A good dog never dies
she always stays
she walks beside you
on crisp autumn days
when frost is on the fields
and winter's drawing near
her head is within our hand
in her old way.
-- Mary Carolyn Davies
Donations have been made to
Airedale Rescue in memory of . . .
. . . ANGIE, who crossed The Rainbow Bridge on July 23, 2007.
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On August 31, Maureen Scott writes:
And then there were three . . .
On July 23, day six of our summer travels, our Angie crossed the Rainbow Bridge. We believe she suffered a devastating heart attack. We were camped at Summit Lake in Stone Mountain Park, a part of the northern Rocky Mountains. Angie was outside with me in the pale sunshine and lovely mountain vegetation. She lay down, rested her head on my knee and, with a sigh, left me behind and alone . . . . |
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The next day, we drove 500 miles to Whitehorse where we could have Angie's remains cremated. Somehow, leaving her by herself in the cold mountains was more than we could stand to do . . . .
Angie had her share of burdens to carry during the past year. Already hypothyroid, she was diagnosed during the fall with very painful Spondylosis which we worked long and hard to control. Just as we believed we were making her life bearable again, in March, we discovered she had Cushing's Disease. I would never have wished these evil conditions on any dog, never mind my gentle Angie.
What can I say about our Angie?
Angie was my little bright eyes, our first Airedale, Jim's fishing buddy -- the snippy little Airedale who marched into our home and offered to take charge. She clapped a leg over Gennie, our elderly and very ill fifteen-year-old Chow, and suggested she was now CEO. Gennie turned her head, gave Angie a piercing glare and barked sharply. Angie dropped her paw instantly, abandoned her attempt to become the alpha dog, and the two grew to be best of friends.
Next Angie proposed to lunch on Pifflesqueak the Toy Poodle and was sternly discouraged by the Alpha Male. She spent the remainder of her life hauling the rascally Poodle out of predicaments, usually of Squeak's own making.
Finally, Angie thought it might be fun to torment Round Tuit, the c*t. Tiny Tuit had other ideas. She expanded until she was the size of a giant raccoon and whistled like a tea kettle. The fascinated Angie promptly fell flat on her face in love with kitty and, in fact, was the one who came to tell us when Tuit suffered a stroke. In great distress, Angie hovered over Tuit until the end came. She was that kind of girl -- loyalty, once given, was there forever.
Four-year-old Angie was a very difficult girl when she came to us. She stole our food, devoured our belongings and unraveled my knitting, ate the needles and buried the yarn in the garden. She was seriously dog-aggressive, too.
Eventually, though, Angie's good qualities overcame the less desirable ones and she grew to be our heart dog -- the "good" Airedale who looked after Pifflesqueak, mothered Murphy the Wonder Dog (whom she adored) and endured the Littlest Lunatic's antics. She was kind to poor, anxious Ms Pix and fussed over the sad little rescues who visited our household.
When we became involved in Airedale rRescue, we quickly learned to trust Angie's judgment. If Angie liked applicants, then they were approved for a rescued Airedale. When she ignored an applicant, we discovered that placing a rescue in that household would be perilous.
Daughter RosyBud Gotthardt & Mother Angie Scott
Angie loved the grandbabies and was fiercely (but politely) protective of them both. She always stood quietly between the babies and anyone who stopped to chat with us when we were out walking. Once she very helpfully dragged the elder baby's stroller up a steep hill to our home during an unexpected cloudburst when I pointed out the (mythical) c*t at twelve o'clock just ahead!
Angie doted on toys that squeaked and chattered and mooed and barked. She appreciated good food and a nice run along the river. She became a very well-behaved obedience dog and was "bullet-proof" in her dealings with other chance-met animals. She worshipped her Wiggly Giggly ball that got me into so many difficulties at the public library!
She was a pretty, pretty girl with melting chocolate eyes and a lovely face.
Shortly, I will repost the definitive Angie story -- it is called "Angie and the Hot Dog". Angie's great sense of humor and opportunistic traits shine in this little anecdote. I hope you enjoy reading about our Angie once last time . . . .
Angie: 1995-2007
ANGIE AND THE HOT DOG
Last summer, we spent our holiday in the Yukon in our truck and camper, wandering aimlessly. One day, we arrived at a campsite near a lovely lake. It had been a long drive so we let Angie A. and Pifflesqueak out to stretch their legs as we set up camp.
In the adjoining clearing were a husband and wife, seated at a picnic table, enjoying dinner. Quantities of bushes directly behind the man partially obscured our camp from theirs. The picnic table was located near the shrubbery and the man was seated on that side of the table with the greenery fairly tickling his shoulders. In his hand, he clutched an uneaten hot dog, steaming fragrantly in the clear air. His wife sat facing him.
Evidently a bit of a blow-hard, the husband was pontificating about something or other to his poor, long-suffering wife who was clearly bored to tears. He waved the hot dog about to emphasize what he was saying.
Suddenly, the wife's eyes bulged. Out of the shrubbery behind her husband majestically arose the head of an Airedale, nose a-twitch, eyes glittering.
Unaware of the action behind him, the husband made an especially broad gesture with his hot dog.
SNAP! half the treat disappeared in the jaws of death. The head vanished. The wife choked, and fought back howls of laughter.
Belatedly, the man recalled his uneaten dinner. His hand approached his mouth, only to pause in front of his eyes. "Where," he demanded plaintively, "did half my hot dog go?"
"I believe you had already taken a bite, dear," blandly replied his companion between gasps and snorts, "I expect you've just forgotten."
Angie A. was hastily bundled into the camper where she happily consumed her treat. We ate inside that night . . . and left early the next morning!
Angie can also be seen on these pages:
MISHA (@RB). APRIL (@RB), CARI & RICO'S FRIENDS, CANINE & CYBER, S
HOWLIDAY CARDS 2005 - Page 6
ELIZABETH BERRY & THE BERRYDALES:
We will look for Miss Angie's star tonight.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am a thousand winds that blow,
When you awaken in the morning's hush
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
-- Attributed to Mary Frye
SUE HEINZ:
It's so hard to lose a precious friend. I still have the pics of the four that you sent me so long ago, I smile every time I look at The Circus. I pray that this difficult time passes ever so quickly and you are enveloped with wonderful memories of your little girl.
With deepest sympathies
CHERYL SILVER:
Oh, dear............what a lovely and loving tribute........although she crossed the bridge some time back---tonight--here in austin, tx---we will light many candles for Angie.
KATHI & SIMON:
I sit here reading this post, crying then laughing and still, crying. I'm so very saddened to hear of Angie's passing, but happy to know it was a peaceful, with the person she loved most.
I have my candle burning, in memory of such a great and faithful friend.
MARE MOORE & THE MOORESIDE GANG:
I can well imagine your shock! How fitting though that your beloved Angie Adorable should quietly and peacefully take her leave whilst surrounded within your loving arms and in such a beautiful setting . . . . I can't think of a gentler way, nor lovelier place, to do so.
Please know that our thoughts are with you both, and The Circus as well.
SANDY GOTTHARDT:
As many of you may know, Angie was my Rosybud's Mum. I am heartbroken that she has left us, but also so grateful to her for giving me my sweet girl and two of my best friends.
I have only been involved in showing/raising Airedales for about seven years. One day, I was told about someone who posted stories about Angie on an email list. Wasn't Rosybud's dam named Angie?
What were the chances?
An address was passed along, e-mails exchanged and a meeting arranged. The rest is history -- the beginning of a treasured friendship and my introduction to Angie.
When we first re-introduced Angie & her daughter, Maureen & I were concerned they might be a bit aloof with each other. But Angie & Rosybud politely touched noses and then proceeded to snuggle together.
Watching them was like seeing double. Angie was beautiful, with the most unbelievable eyes. And Rosybud is very much her mother's daughter, right down to the same way of twitching her nose and the wicked sense of humor. So often when we visited one another, Maureen and I spent much of the time getting Angie & Rosybud mixed up.
I will miss you, Angie. But thank you for giving me two wonderful friends and your beautiful daughter. She is our little piece of you.
Sandy & the Portland Pack
[REPRINTED WITH THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION]
JACKIE McGUINNESS & THE WILD BUNCH:
I'm really sorry to hear the sad news about Angie; the only good thing is that it was quick and she didn't suffer. I'm thinking of all of you.
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AIREDALES IN MEMORIAM, PAGE 20