Crash
On June 22, 2007, Crash, my first puppy, died. We met Crash when he was
five weeks old. Crash was one in a litter of nine puppies, and the owners
of his mom referred to him as “Fatty Lumpkin” because he was so laid back,
even as a little puppy. For Crash and me, it was love at first sight—he
climbed into my lap and spent the next hour plus just sitting there. By the
time we were ready to leave, he had my heart, and for the next almost 14
years, he gave our family unconditional love.
Crash weighed 18 pounds the day we brought him home, and between
the age of eight weeks and six months of age, he gained 3-4 pounds per week.
By the time Crash was a year old, he weighed 106 pounds. He and I started
obedience training when he was 10 weeks old, and Crash was always one of the
first in his class to learn a new skill. He earned his AKC Canine Good
Citizen certification by the time he was 8 months old.
Crash especially loved being around children—from infants to big
kids, Crash thought he was a mom. He was there to meet and look after all
five of our grandchildren, and each one of them snuggled him, sat on him,
and was licked and loved by him. Even this last year, when slowed by
arthritis and a heart condition, his favorite times were when kids came
over, or the youth group came to swim. Crash would just plant himself in
the midst of the place where the kids were, and wait for the petting that
soon started. Crash looked a lot like the dog in the “Good Dog Carl” books,
and many times in his life little children ran up to him calling him Carl
and hugging his big neck. And he had special talent—Crash was the only one
of our Rottweilers that could fit three tennis balls in his mouth at the
same time.
Experts say that for large breed dogs like Crash, one year is
like 8 years to humans. That means that Crash was 114 when he died, but we
still were not ready to lose him. Words cannot express how much we loved
him, and how much we will miss him.
Ken and Karen W.
