Dewey came to me on a hot August day as a puppy from Minnesota, a gift from my brother. My brother said he would fix the damage he did to my car or buy me any kind of dog I wanted—so I chose the dog – and wanted a Border collie. When the breeder described the litter she said, “The first born is a black and white male, with a full blaze. He is the biggest of the pups, was the first to eat and the first to open his eyes”. Before she could describe the second pup, I interrupted her and said “I think I fell in love with the first” and so chose River Ridge Dewey. Little did I know how all of those descriptors would eventually play out.

Dewey came to Seattle when he was 8 ½ weeks old and was potty trained the first day. He chewed up almost everything in my house, consumed my time, pushed my limits to the max and fully captured my heart. He was razor smart, powerful, dominant, independent and as I was later told by those more experienced – a handful for any handler. Not having a clue what I was doing “we” began to train together to work sheep and attended clinics where more of his mind could be engaged and his skills could be developed. Being a city boy, we tried to “work” as much as possible. Swimming came late – at almost 5 years of age – but developed into a great passion. I would take him to Whidbey Island where he could swim and I would run him up and down cliffs just to see if I could wear him out. He loved new adventures and new places to explore and always hated riding in the car. He often would invent games along with specific rules. He would catch a Frisbee or chase a ball and then do an about face and hide it in a bush and insist that I go look for it. His “go find” command would fall on deaf ears and he would poke around aimlessly until I got so exasperated and began to pack up our stuff to leave that he would dart to the exact spot where he hid his toy and come bounding up to me, drop it at my feet and want to do it again.

I have dozens of stories that I will always remember of his athletic prowess, soccer skills and some Frisbee catches that were pure poetry.

I am realizing that it is these memories that I will hold. Dew didn’t seem to age for a long, long time and when he did begin to age it seemed to happen rapidly. Slowly over about a year or two he began cutting back his interests as his physical abilities decreased. His appetite never decreased or his love of walks. After almost 15 ½ years of a kind of companionship that I struggle to define and for which I am profoundly grateful I had to give Dewey back. On Christmas Eve 2009 we had to put him down and once again, our lives would not be the same. He was my dog. I was his person. Goodbye sweet boy. I love you.

Thanks to the Queen Anne Animal Hospital and their donation to WSU on behalf of Dewey.

Wendy

Wendy F.