For you dog lovers out there, did you ever have that one dog in your family that was just an amazing dog? A 0ne-of- a-kind who seemed to possess super-doggy powers?

When I was a kid, we had a dog named Duchess who was just that dog.  I think she was a Collie and German Shepherd mix, but she definitely favored a German Shepherd much more in appearance.  This dog loved us kids.  When we would swim in the swimming hole or the lake, she would swim in circles around us the entire time to protect us.  If we got tired while swimming, all we had to do was grab her tail and she’d take us right to shore.  

The funniest “protective” action she did was to chase thunder.   Every time a thunderstorm rolled through, she’d run as fast as she could up the hill barking as loud and fast as possible when it thundered.  As the rumbles died away, she would victoriously prance back a happy girl.  Then, the lightening would strike, the thunder rolled and off she would run again.  It was an endless cycle of vicousness and glee that was quite entertaining and endearing to watch.

(I know Dad has plenty more stories about Duchess and I do not remember them all – feel free to post those stories in the comments, Dad!)

Once I was a happily married woman living in the vibrant South and learning to say “bless her heart” with the best of ‘em, we had the opportunity to adopt a five-year-old Golden Retriever named Goldie.  From the moment we got her, we walked a path of medical mysteries, lost and found adventures, and utter sweetness.  She was our Duchess.  She died several weeks ago here at home and left us broken-hearted yet full and happy with memories.

She was the only dog I knew who thoroughly enjoyed visiting the veterinarians office.  She’d hop out of the car, tongue lolling with a goofy grin, and pull me right into the building.  I would have to restrain her from bolting through the inner door until the office staff could open that door and let her run in.  She always knew where to go – right around the corner to lay under the counter at their feet.  She was spoiled everywhere she went.  How could anyone not love her?  

Goldie

That vet’s office knew her well, and what an amazing office at that.  I remain thoroughly convinced we funded several staff vacations on Goldie’s bills alone.  That dog was one medical mystery after another…from clotting issues after her spay surgery to the bladder mystery that plagued her the last year of her life.   If she hadn’t have had the bladder issue, though, we would not have found the hip displacia.  Even after her death, that office was phenomenal in how they handled everything with such respect.

She never had symptoms of her hip problems until her last months.  Oh, she moved slower, sure, but the instant a lizard or squirrel crossed her path, Goldie instantly regressed nine years to a spry puppy and moved like the wind.  The rest of the time she grunted like the old woman she was.   This Jekyll-and-Hyde side of her always made us laugh.  Never underestimate the thrill of a chase, I guess.

Goldie also knew about respect and privacy.   If we spontaneously erupted into an, ahem, amorous moment, she’d quietly get up from her spot beside my side of the bed and step out of the room.  Once bedtime rolled around, and I was nearly asleep, I’d hear the jingle-jangle of her collar as she sauntered back to her comfy pillow.  

Then along came the kids.  She stepped into saint status in my book at this point.  During my struggle with postpartum depression, she was a sweet, calming companion for me and felt much as I did when my son was crying and I didn’t know what to do – we both would want to leave the room.  She adjusted so well to the new baby, but having the new sounds in her “room” was a bit much for her at first and I think she got mad at me.  She’d leave everytime my son cried.  Bless her heart.  (See?  So Southern…)

With both of my high-energy children and any visiting kids, she was a-m-a-z-i-n-g.  No amount of hair-pulling, climbing, ear-pulling or rough-housing would make her snap or bark.  Even in her later months when the pain in her hips was more apparent, she’d simply get up and move if she was bothered.    When either one of us would have to check on the kids in the middle of the night, we usually would find her curled up outside my son’s door or in between their doors.  That always made me feel good.   It was clear she loved those kids, too.

Golly, did she know how to get lost!  Lightening, thunder, fireworks, power outages, flashlights, beeping sounds or anything remotely related sent her into spasms of anxiety.  If we were not careful and she was outside during such occurences, she’d dig out under the fence until she found a kind soul to love on her.  Fortunately, we live near amazing dog-lovers and we always got her back.  It was our routine to stay home for New Years Eve and Fourth of July because we would need to be here to administer prescribed “doggy-downers” (as I lovingly dubbed her anti-anxiety meds) and keep her calm during the inevitable sound and light nightmare, as she perceived it.  Even now, I hear thunder and I glance around waiting to see her walk up to my side, shaking, hearing the tinkle of her collar tags.

As I clean the house, I miss my Goldie3000 the most – the most powerful vacuum besides my beloved Dyson.  There is nothing like having your floor spit-cleaned by your dog’s tongue after your kids’ every meal and snack.  I think it was her favorite time of day, too.  I miss my doorbell and bodyguard.  Her ears would perk up and I would know someone was at my door or in my driveway.  When I would have to be home alone with a repairman, she was my bodyguard – albeit a friendly-let-me-lick-you-all-over-I’m-no-bodyguard kind of bodyguard, but she made me feel better nonetheless.  

What an amazing dog.  She had a zillion lives when it came to being lost then found, but only one unique soul.  As I read my Bible, I come across Scriptures here and there that convince me more and more that I am going to see this precious girl, and my Duchess, in Heaven.  If God in Heaven knows the very stars by name and the hairs on my head and has His eye on the sparrow, then He knows my Goldie and my Duchess and loves them both.  

When I was a child, I had my Duchess.  My kids have their Goldie.   And we will see them again.  

Did you ever have that one amazing pet in your life?    A pet that seemed to be more than “just” a pet?