It's time... - Page 2

I wrote this a number of years ago, and posted it here. Some of you may still remember it:

Ranger Aragorn

As the man unfastened the heavy chain from the big German Shepherd’s collar, he gave me some parting advice: “If he gives you any trouble, just show him a shovel.”

Too disgusted to respond, I clipped a leash to the dog’s collar, then with a bit of coaxing, enticed him into the dog crate for the long trip to his new home.

His journey had started several weeks earlier when I told my birth mom my 14 year old Shepherd, Tasha, was failing rapidly, and didn’t have much longer to live.

“What are you going to do when the time comes?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know, but I know I can’t get a pup, because there will be no one home to help housebreak it now that Roger’s gone.”

“Well, if you want the most gorgeous 3 year old German Shepherd, you’d better speak now, because the owner says he’s going to shoot it!”

”WHAT?? Why? Is the dog vicious?”

“No, he’s quite friendly. The owner got him as watch dog, but he’s not happy with him, so he says he’s going to shoot him if no one else wants him. He doesn’t believe in keeping a dog just as a pet.”

I told my mom I was definitely interested, and made arrangements to meet the dog. Several weeks later, Ranger was on his way to his new home.

Three weeks later, Ranger got to see that shovel, as I used it to dig Tasha’s grave. She had passed quietly in her sleep. He stood beside me and watched as I dug the hole. When I stopped to rest, he crawled into my lap and licked the tears and sweat off my face.

“I’m so glad I’ve got you, buddy,” I whispered. Tasha’s death was just the most recent in a string of losses. Between May of 2004 and March of 2005, I’d lost both of my adoptive parents to old age, and my husband, Roger, had succumbed to cancer. Now it was Tasha’s turn, the mischievous stray who’d wandered into my life shortly before my marriage to Roger. She’d been my link with the past, the reminder that I’d been single before, and could do it again.

Living alone was not easy for me. I have a severe hearing loss: 70% in the left ear, and 90% in the right, and when I take my hearing aids out for the night, I don’t hear much of anything. I had talked to the Lions Club about a Hearing Ear dog, but their rules said I’d have to get rid of my pet. Needless to say, that was not an option, especially with a dog as elderly as Tasha!

Then, shortly after Tasha’s death, through the magic of the internet, I met a lady named Anne, who’d trained her own service dog. I asked her for more information, and she directed me to some training resources. Soon I was teaching Ranger to be my ears. He caught on very quickly, and in no time, was alerting me to the smoke alarm, alarm clock, door, and kitchen timer!

I also began giving him public access training, using the guidelines set down by Assistance Dogs International.

In March, we put his training to the test, when we attended our first large public event together, a writer’s conference (Ad Astra) in Toronto. Friday evening was party night, and, Ranger, dressed in his orange service vest, wandered from room to room with me, taking the crowds and noise in stride, and completely ignoring the tempting displays of food.

Around midnight, I decided to turn in, but first Ranger needed a walk. The streets were totally deserted, and it was very icy underfoot. Ranger showed no interest in doing his business, so when we came to a small woods, I decided to take him off among the trees, hoping he’d lift his leg to one of them.

I took one step off the sidewalk, and my left leg plunged into an empty fence post hole. When I’d recovered from the shock of the fall, I realized I was in deep trouble. My left leg was buried well past the knee, my right leg was doubled underneath me, and I was up to my elbows in soft snow. There was nothing I could grab to pull myself out of the hole! The temperature was below freezing, and there was no traffic on the road at this late hour. How was I ever going to get out of this? I could be dead from hypothermia by morning!

When I fell, Ranger scampered off a short distance, not sure what to make of my flailing arms. Now, hearing the distressed noises I was making, he came and plastered his big body against mine. I quickly realized I could use him as a support to pull myself upright and get my leg out of the hole. Carefully, I began to lean on his back. He braced himself, and held steady as a rock as I gradually pushed myself upright.

Once I was out of the hole, I hugged him tightly to me. “Thanks, buddy,” I said. “I rescued you, now I guess you decided it was time to return the favour!”

It was not the first time this incredible dog had displayed his intelligence. While training him for his hearing ear tasks, I’d enlisted the help of a professional trainer to teach him to alert to the door. As he’d been an outside dog, he had no idea what a knock on the door, or the sound of a doorbell meant. The other tasks I’d been able to train myself, but this one required a second person to actually knock on the door, and ring the bell.

Ranger caught on very fast, and after just 15 minutes, he was responding reliably to both the bell, and a knock. The trainer then said, “Well, you’ve paid me for a full hour. What else do you want to work on? How about the kitchen timer?”

She picked up the timer, and set it for 15 seconds, while I hid a treat in my hand. When the timer went off, with a little encouragement, Ranger came and nudged my hand, and was rewarded with the treat. “Good boy!” I told him.

We did a second trial, then I said, “You know what? I use that timer maybe once every six months. Let’s make sure he’s proofed on the important stuff, like the smoke alarm and the alarm clock!” The trainer agreed, and we put the timer away.

Several months later, I was sitting in my study, with the timer beside me, as I timed some fish that was in the oven. The instant it went off, Ranger came over and nudged my elbow. I stared at him in amazement.

“I never trained you to do this!” I exclaimed. I’d totally forgotten about that one brief training session with the timer, and assumed he must be generalizing from the other things he’d been trained to alert to. Several days went by before the memory of that training session floated to the surface. It’s a good thing his memory was better than mine!

He also surprised me when I was training him to respond to the alarm clock. Now, this task wasn’t 100% necessary, as I have a bed shaker alarm clock that vibrates the mattress to wake me up., but still, it was a good idea to train him in case I was away from home, and had to use a regular alarm clock. It was one of the first tasks I trained him for, and I had no idea as to whether he fully understood what he was supposed to do, since I usually turned off the alarm before he could respond to it.

This particular morning, he put his feet up on the bed, and nudged me awake. I opened my eyes, and saw it was morning, but thought to myself, “The alarm hasn’t gone off yet. I’ll grab another couple of winks.”

I drifted back to sleep, only to be awakened a second time by Ranger nudging me. “I guess he really has to go outside,” I thought, and rolled over. I went to shut off the alarm, only to find it was already going off, and had been going off for quite some time! The bed-shaker device had stopped working! Ranger had, of course, been alerting to the audible alarm, which I couldn’t hear. I really had to hurry to keep from being late for work!

What a nice tribute to a true hero...One that saved you...and YES you saved him but don't they always save us too...
I just lost my boy that was 12 years 2 months old..."Quatsch vom Kirchberghof"...Now I've had many dogs and still have quite a few but Quatsch was probably the best all around dog that I've ever had...I LOVED that dog so much that just writing this is bring tears to my eyes...
I wish they would last forever but they don't and I have been so blessed to have had not only Quatsch but others that have blessed my life...I have been so lucky to have had their company...It hurts SO much when it's time for them to move on but the hurt is worth the price of having had them grace my life...I am a better person for having had them...
I LOVE you Quatsch...and miss you everyday...Even though I know you're around me all the time and always will...

~Bob~

Ah Sunsilver, My heart dropped for you when I saw those dreaded words It's time... Yet as dreaded as they are they are words of great beauty because they speak of courage to keep a hard tough commitment for the benefit of another being and they speak of the awesome love between you that made that commitment.

Thank you for his story. I had missed it the first time you posted. What a special boy and special journey the two of you together have had. He was not only handsome but also a beautiful soul.

We weep with you for the passing of such greatness. These are the dogs that are the heart and soul of our breed. You were very blessed to have him in your life. But you and I know that does not make it any easier to go on, in fact sometimes it is harder. But we honor them by going on, thanking them for what they brought to us.

On my post about Nemo, I shared a Patricia McConnell that quite undid me and still does but speaks eloquently to what is in our hearts.

'There's a stone I had made for Luke at the top of the hill road, where the pasture opens wide and the setting sun highlights the words carved into its face. "That'll do, Luke, that'll do." The words are said to working dogs all over the world when the chores are done and the flock is settled: "That'll do dog, come home now, your work is done." Luke's work is done too. He took my heart and ran with it, and he's running still, fast and strong, a piece of my heart bound up with his, forever.            Patricia McConnell, For the Love of a Dog"

 

That'll do, Ranger, that'll do.

Sunsilver, I am so sorry. Your tribute was beautiful. Hugs to you. RIP Ranger. 

Sunsilver, your post made me cry as I have been there too many times. My current German Shepherd is 4 years old and she is my 6th. You have my deepest sympathy. RIP Ranger. I'm so glad you rescued him and made his life wonderful.

Tig, that's a beautiful quote. Thanks for sharing.

The vet clinic called to say I left my reading glasses there. My first thought when I heard the message was, "Did you also find the piece of my heart I left behind?" :(

In life with our dogs we should attend to their needs and offer them respect, love and dignity .. and also in death.

My condolences to you SS. Reading your words about Ranger helped me to understand how important he was to you, and also how you gave him purpose, something every GSD needs. It was a wonderful relationship you shared, thanks for sharing that with us.

Dogs like Ranger are one of the reasons I get so mad at people who think a dog is worthless if it doesn't have a pedigree, or come from a certain line. A good dog is a good dog.

A friend of mine who'd rescued a very nice male shepherd, a police academy reject, was asked about the dog's papers.

"Papers?" Chris replied. "They're right here." And he patted his chest, over his heart.

So sorry, Sun, but it´s up to us humans to make them go in dignity.
You took responsibility, and he deserved it.
You gave him a wonderful home, and he gave you his heart - you´ll never forget this boy, and that´s what makes them special.