~ Ailea's Angels at Rainbow Bridge ~
~ The Rainbow Bridge ~ Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing: they each miss someone very special, someone who was left behind.
They
all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks
into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; his eager body begins to quiver.
Suddenly he breaks from the group, flying over the green grass, faster and
faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally
meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy
kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you
look once more into those trusting eyes, so long gone from your life, but never
absent from your heart. Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together... |
Willows Shadow Dresed In Blu
"Rookie"
October 31, 1991 - August 15, 2006
A
Sheltie Good Morning
By Amy Butcher, Ailea's Place, 1996
(written in honor of our Rookie,
Willows Shadow Dresed In Blu)
When I awake
each morning she is there
Her warm tongue, satiny smooth,
strokes my cheek in daybreak greeting,
the happiest 'hello' I will ever receive.
Her paws rest
upon my chest in quiet patience,
her eyes already a-gleam with mischief,
her tail twitching like a cat's.
The moment I
stir she bounds from the bed and dances,
laughing wildly at my morning cobwebs,
and she chases me through the house and to the door,
a madcap race.
The door I open
for her happy body
and she bounds through the gap,
racing down the steps to pause and glance back.
She speaks to
me once,
an invitation to join her in her frolic on the wet grass,
and then she is gone in a dash,
exploring the secrets of the early morning garden.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There are no words sufficient to describe exactly what Rookie meant to us throughout the years she graced our lives. Barely four years old when she came to Ailea to stay, everything that is Ailea today comes directly from Rookie. Not just our foundation, Rookie was also the best watch-sheltie, the best comforter, the best puppy nanny, heck, the best SHELTIE anyone could have possibly hoped to find. One of those once-in-a-lifetime gifts...
A beautiful and elegant bi-blue daughter of Ch Shadow Hill's Silver Breeze, Rookie measured 14" when she arrived, but in later years shrank to about 13.5". If, however, Rookie could have been measured in terms of attitude, she would have easily towered above all other shelties who have ever come to pass. She possessed an outstanding well-preserved and passed-on temperament which held her at the top of the doggie food chain at Ailea's Place her entire life. Not only ruler of all other dogs that passed through our doors, Rookie also eventually came to rule the human members of her pack as well. Sometimes with disdain, sometimes with quiet mirth, Rookie kept us all in our places.
Born October 31, 1991, Rookie lived with us nearly twelve
glorious years. During the time
she was with us, she raised two litters of puppies of her own, and then nannied
every other puppy we ever had. In late December 1997, when Rookie's 'best bud' Taylor whelped a litter of nine, Rookie was there, helping all the way. As Taylor labored with delivering the
whelps Rookie kept vigil and assisted in clean-up and stimulation as each new
puppy arrived. Though I have hundreds of photographs of Rookie, one of my
favorites, shown at left, is of her sitting on the sofa in my living room beside my friend,
Nancy, ears forward, on high alert. Nancy had a tiny girl who was struggling to
survive that 9-puppy litter, tucked down in her sweat shirt, helping keep her
warm against her own body. Rookie was so concerned about the puppy she would not
leave Nancy's side until she saw the puppy safely returned to the whelping box.
Though slowing down as her fifteenth birthday approached, Rookie was still an active and happy girl. The last puppy she helped us raise was Quinn, U-Ch Ailea Emeralds Reign, who was born shortly after Rookie celebrated her twelfth birthday. With three very active puppies in the house at that time, Rookie tolerated the antics and exuberant play of all three, ever the expert Nanny.
When I brought home my latest litter just a few weeks before she passed to the Bridge, when the litter was six weeks old, I was concerned about how Rookie would respond to them, growing older as she had. I needn't have concerned myself, as she was right there to check on each of the puppies as they were placed on my living room floor. At nearly fifteen years she no longer actively engaged in puppy play, but she would still lie quietly on the floor as the puppies climbed all around and over her, and never once seemed to mind the puppy activities all around her.
For most of the two weeks while the puppies grew from six to eight weeks, Rookie was back to racing with Onyx and the puppies to the back door when it opened, or to investigate unfamiliar disturbances or noises. Rookie did not actually hear the door or noises herself - she was completely deaf by the time she was thirteen - but she sure responded to the others' reactions as they raced to investigate!
When
her time to go arrived it was mostly unexpected, although we did have four or
five days' warning of the fact her time was at hand. She suffered a stroke which
left her completely blind and with difficulty moving around or even standing.
She no longer recognized us, the hands who had loved her all these many years.
How easy, as mere mortals, to think things would get better(!), it had never occurred to me - ignorant as I am - she might suffer some sort of life-altering "event" to trigger the need for sending her on, as all this time as she grew older I had thought one day I would simply come home to find her lying comfortably in "her" chair (an old, worn-out recliner into which she could still climb), having passed peacefully in her sleep.
Losing her so completely before the life ever left her body was difficult. No welcoming snuffles of her nose in my hand seeking head rubs. She would let me pet her but was no longer at all interested. That we had become perfect strangers was disconcerting. I kept thinking, "How can I comfort this beautiful girl if she no longer remembers who I am?" Though obviously irrevocably changed, she continued to drink her water, eat kibble, and was pottying in the yard as she had done all her life. It was impossible for me to see she was taking her first faltering steps toward the Bridge when she was yet doing all those things to sustain her life.
Finally,
it was time.
After getting up on Tuesday I sat with her on the floor and held her in my arms, running a
brush through her coat one last time. She barely tolerated grooming, poor girl,
but she did always enjoy the body scratch that came with a gentle brushing of
her coat. I clipped a bit of the soft hair from near her face, and carefully
tucked it into a plastic bag for safekeeping. I left her lying on the floor in
the kitchen, resting as comfortably as possible, while I went out into the yard
at the edge of the woods to dig her grave in the shade of the oaks and maples
where Cash, Tara and Sheba lay. One of the hardest things I have ever had to do, it was
in a different way one of the best things at the time, since the physical labor of moving
the earth one shovel at a time helped put my mind and heart in the space wherein I
needed to be.
Once
I was done and had rested a bit I gathered her into my arms and carried her to
the truck. All snuggled into a big blanket I had put on the back seat for her I
drove her out of our driveway for the last time. She lay in my arms and gently
lay her head to rest with one final sigh of relief early in the afternoon of
that fateful Tuesday. No
longer confused, no longer blind, no longer deaf, Rookie is in her heaven with
worlds of puppies to nanny, and we are left to wonder, how will we get through
these next days, weeks, years, without her?
When we choose to share our lives with a dog we know full well we will likely outlive that dog by years. It is one of those far off into the future things that crosses our mind from time to time, but is never one of those things we actually, actively think about or prepare ourselves for. As I sat there for a few moments, unwilling to stand up to leave and take her home to lay her to rest, I remember thinking how much I *hate* the circle of Life. I hated it when my mother died and I hate it yet, having to say my farewells to one of the most beautiful souls I have ever been blessed and privileged to know in my life.
We know life is not easy, that we are going to struggle often and regularly with the different lessons as they pass our way over the years. Knowing this makes it no easier to accept, and the process of grief begins its empty journey through my heart.
Rest well, dear Rook. I will always miss you.
Mama Amy
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ Yes, there are more ~
Please feel free to e-mail Amy with any questions or comments
