For Buddy

In Memory of Shannon

January 25, 2002

Missed and lovingly remembered
by Herb O'Brien

I lost my best friend and closest companion on Friday, January 25.

Shannon was the reason I would get up in the morning and come home at night. She adored me. She was always at my side. I have had Shelties all my life and she was the most gorgeous. She knew it, too. I remember one day in the supermarket parking lot, I was walking to the car and Shannon was inside waiting for me. I yelled out, "Hey, Gorgeous!" She popped her head up and at the same time an irate middle-aged woman turned around and gave me the dirtiest look. I yelled out I meant the dog, not you. People would always comment on how beautiful her eyes were. They were very dark brown, intelligent, caring and sensitive. If eyes are the mirrors of the soul, I know that there is such a thing.

Shannon was only 8 weeks old when I brought her home. Immediately she had a profound affect on my life. The next week, we left for a vacation in New Hampshire. I packed Shannon's crate and loaded her into the car along with Jesse, my 16-year-old Blue Merle Sheltie who was on his last legs. Shannon was great for a baby, she handled the trip so well. I already started obedience training her at 8 weeks and she took to it like a champ. The people in New Hampshire were amazed to see this little ball of fur heeling and sitting at such a young age.

Shannon and I were sitting on a dock and I was fishing. I caught a trout and took it off my line and it jumped around on the dock. Shannon was so fascinated with it and played and barked as the fish jumped. When the trout died, she looked so sad. I picked her up and hugged her and I realized I could no longer fish. That is the last time I touched a fishing pole. She taught me to have a greater respect for all living creatures. Til this day, every time I see any animal, I make a connection with that scene and this beautiful little puppy. I have been a vegetarian now for five years.

On our way home from this trip I was troubled with Jesse, getting very sick and having a nerve-wracking visit to a country vet who turned out to be one of the most dynamic people I have ever met. I rushed to get back to New Jersey, to get Jesse to my regular vet. As fate would have it, I had car trouble in Connecticut. Here I was, on the road with a sick senior Sheltie and a rambunctious pup. We were dropped off, by a very nice AAA tow truck driver, at a motel on the highway. Problem was, they didn't allow pets. The truck driver watched the dogs as I went to check in. I came back and took the pup and older dog upstairs in the back elevator. It was late, so I figured I could get away with it. Everything was cool until I turned the room lights on and Shannon saw herself in a floor-length mirror. She started barking like crazy, and before I knew it, I had two Shelties raising hell in a no pets allowed hotel. Of course, I got a knock on the door. They agreed to let us stay if I could quiet them down.

Shannon grew into a beautiful dog with a lush coat. She handled dog school with ease and became my best friend. She loved to bite my ankles playfully (typical of many Shelties) when I walked. She hated modern machinery and would bark at the phone when it rang. She particularly hated the answering machine and I could never hear my messages through the barking when I played them back. She was a great watch dog, she thought she owned half the property on my entire street.

Shannon was my shadow, she particularly loved to run up the steps when I would be walking up. She would wait at the top for me and bark. Then she would run and dive into my bed. She would find a spot to fit next to me like a puzzle. She would wake me at 4 a.m. every morning like clockwork. She would jump on my chest and lick my face until I would get out of bed. She would watch as I ate breakfast, and wait to finish off any milk that was left in the bowl. She liked to grab my socks as I tried to put them on. She would follow me to the door every time I left the house and stare at me to make me feel guilty. She was always waiting for me to come home. If I didn't enter the house fast enough, she would throw her body into the door to try to open it herself.

Last year, she came down with epilepsy. I tried every form of alternative medicine I could and finally gave in to putting her on medication. Her seizures came every 2 weeks or so. This made us even closer. I found myself watching her like a hawk. I could tell when the seizures were coming and afterwards she would let me wash her hair, comb her and then she would curl up and sleep in my arms for the rest of the night.

Shannon was full of life, playful and happy. I am not sure what happened. She liked to go to work with me and loved the attention she got there. She would spend a few days a month in my office. Last Wednesday at work, I noticed her not begging for food and realized there was something wrong. We went to the vet the next morning and he said she had a stomach ailment but would be fine. He asked to keep her overnight and I put up a fight. He convinced me to leave her stay and he put her on an IV to calm her stomach and make sure she didn't dehydrate. I spoke to him at 4 p.m. and he said she was doing great. He checked her at 9 p.m. and she was still doing very well. I was to pick her up in the morning.

I woke late since I didn't have my alarm clock, went out for a 6-mile run and came home. I was anxious to get to the vet's office to pick her up. I was just ready to leave when I noticed my answering machine flashing. It was the vet, he said Shannon slipped away during the night.

I was devastated. I picked her up and brought her home because I told her to "wait" when I left her. She knew that meant I would be back for her. I buried her in my back yard with the toy that I bought her on the way home from the kennel the day I bought her.

All she ever wanted was my attention and love. She lived for me. She gave me a lifetime of affection in five short years. There is an emptiness in my home and in my heart that no other living creature will ever fill. I hope she knows wherever she is, how much I loved her. I know someday, I'll be able to hold her and brush her again. If it is true that you can judge a man by his dog, I do not deserve it.

I hope you all are as lucky as I was to have a dog, friend, soul mate like Shannon.

I will miss her.