Chief died today. It's a rather tragic occurrence, seeing he was only seven years old, but there it is--he's gone.
Chief was my dream dog. We had been buying and breeding Aussies for a couple of years, but I didn't like how the pups were turning out from Dash. Either their hair was too short, or their ears were too big. So, I contacted the foundation kennel for Aussies, Las Rocosa, submitted an application for a puppy and waited a couple of years. I was hoping for a black tri male, but when they told me they had a red tri male, I didn't hesitate. The kennel had named him "Little Red Man" which while not politically correct, described him perfectly.
I'll never forget when we took him out of the crate at the airport. He had a thick sheeplike coat, and his eyes were alert and intelligent. He could learn a command in a day ("kennel" was his best one). He quickly became the alpha male dog, showing everyone else that he was boss with bites across their noses.
Chief was everything an Aussie should be. He had a beautiful coat in both the winter and the summer (versus looking like a cancer-survivor like our other dogs when they blow their coats). He had strawberry "angel wings" on his back when he had his full coat, and he was a handsome dark red in the summer. His almond-shaped eyes would charm the pants off of any dog show judge. And he had a look when he was working in the yard--he knew to watch my arm when I was about to chuck the ball so that he could run in that direction and get to the ball before anyone else had even started running. One of his very best qualities was his running gait with John. John would take him (and only him) out on his runs, and without even a leash, Chiefie would keep a steady gait behind John for the seven arduous miles. Sometimes he didn't want to run so fast and John would tell us that he wouldn't take him again...but he always did. Chief knew who he was. He knew what he liked (ball chasing) and what he didn't (puppies and children).
He could jump any fence, including the 6' high wire fence of our original enclosure.
He would greet anyone he loved with "bootie present, bootie present".
He lived for leftovers.
His pups were amazing. They were everything an Aussie pup should be. Although he was absolutely terrified of them, refusing to even come in the door if one of them stood in the way.
Whenever he laid down on the floor and relaxed, he crossed his paws. Even hours before dying, when his body had nothing left to give, he sat in the corner with his paws crossed.
Johannah loved to take him running. I don't know what the connection was there, but I always felt better knowing that Chief would be there to protect her if she needed it. He was always up for a selfie with Hannie.
December 23, he wasn't acting right when we took him out. Seeing as it was almost Christmas, I thought we should take him in. Looking back on it now, I wish I hadn't.
Seven days and $6,200 later, he just couldn't recover from a ruptured spleen (and the resulting surgery). We literally did everything we could to save him, seeing as he was such a robust and young dog. I figured he could beat the 50% odds. However, he just wasn't strong enough to recover, and he passed away during the night.
The best way to remember our pets is to think of the best of times with them. I will forever love this picture I took of Chiefie one lazy summer afternoon when I was giving him a belly scratch. I like to think of him smiling.
We'll see you again, Buddy. Sorry we didn't get to say goodbye.
Chief was my dream dog. We had been buying and breeding Aussies for a couple of years, but I didn't like how the pups were turning out from Dash. Either their hair was too short, or their ears were too big. So, I contacted the foundation kennel for Aussies, Las Rocosa, submitted an application for a puppy and waited a couple of years. I was hoping for a black tri male, but when they told me they had a red tri male, I didn't hesitate. The kennel had named him "Little Red Man" which while not politically correct, described him perfectly.
I'll never forget when we took him out of the crate at the airport. He had a thick sheeplike coat, and his eyes were alert and intelligent. He could learn a command in a day ("kennel" was his best one). He quickly became the alpha male dog, showing everyone else that he was boss with bites across their noses.
Chief was everything an Aussie should be. He had a beautiful coat in both the winter and the summer (versus looking like a cancer-survivor like our other dogs when they blow their coats). He had strawberry "angel wings" on his back when he had his full coat, and he was a handsome dark red in the summer. His almond-shaped eyes would charm the pants off of any dog show judge. And he had a look when he was working in the yard--he knew to watch my arm when I was about to chuck the ball so that he could run in that direction and get to the ball before anyone else had even started running. One of his very best qualities was his running gait with John. John would take him (and only him) out on his runs, and without even a leash, Chiefie would keep a steady gait behind John for the seven arduous miles. Sometimes he didn't want to run so fast and John would tell us that he wouldn't take him again...but he always did. Chief knew who he was. He knew what he liked (ball chasing) and what he didn't (puppies and children).
He could jump any fence, including the 6' high wire fence of our original enclosure.He would greet anyone he loved with "bootie present, bootie present".
He lived for leftovers.
His pups were amazing. They were everything an Aussie pup should be. Although he was absolutely terrified of them, refusing to even come in the door if one of them stood in the way.
Whenever he laid down on the floor and relaxed, he crossed his paws. Even hours before dying, when his body had nothing left to give, he sat in the corner with his paws crossed.
Johannah loved to take him running. I don't know what the connection was there, but I always felt better knowing that Chief would be there to protect her if she needed it. He was always up for a selfie with Hannie.
December 23, he wasn't acting right when we took him out. Seeing as it was almost Christmas, I thought we should take him in. Looking back on it now, I wish I hadn't.
Seven days and $6,200 later, he just couldn't recover from a ruptured spleen (and the resulting surgery). We literally did everything we could to save him, seeing as he was such a robust and young dog. I figured he could beat the 50% odds. However, he just wasn't strong enough to recover, and he passed away during the night.
The best way to remember our pets is to think of the best of times with them. I will forever love this picture I took of Chiefie one lazy summer afternoon when I was giving him a belly scratch. I like to think of him smiling.
We'll see you again, Buddy. Sorry we didn't get to say goodbye.
Such a beautiful dog inside and out! I can hardly stand to see the last picture. It’s so sad he’s dead!
ReplyDeleteThat last photo is so sweet! Sorry you've lost such an amazing dog.
ReplyDelete