It is with
profound sadness, I share the heartbreaking news that my dear Whiskey Girl
has left this world in a most tragic and unfortunate accident. Whiskey
died very suddenly on the afternoon of June 5th, without warning, and
without me there to comfort her, after she found and consumed a gopher
which had been poisoned with strychnine. A nearby neighbor uses poison in
his field and although his fences are secure and my dogs could not have
gotten into his field, it’s very likely that a bird picked it up and
dropped it somewhere in our field. Dear, sweet, gopher-loving Whiskey
found it and, as usual, ate it. I found her at my back door, already gone.
There is nothing I could have done to save her and from what I understand,
I can only thank God that He spared me the horror of watching her die this
way, but allowed me to find her back at home not wondering forever what
might have happened.
I’m
inconsolable, and I cannot believe she’s gone. Not Whiskey. I beg that
this is only a dream and I’ll wake up to find her all wet and dirty,
smiling and wiggling, outside my front office window. I don’t know which
is worse – thinking I see her every time I turn around, or not seeing her
every time I turn around.
She had a
remarkable little life. She earned her Canadian Championship in style,
going Best of Breed over Specials and over a Best in Show winning dog, and
she did it from the Bred By class. It was my most proud moment with her.
When Judge Thomas Touzel examined her and said “so, you bred her?”, damn
straight I did! She blew me away with her natural herding ability, her
strength, and her power with the stock and easily earned her ASCA started
titles on ducks and sheep with First place
scores the very first time I trialed her. And she kept me laughing and
somewhat humbled while she achieved her Rally Novice Cum Laude. With
titles at both ends of her name, this little red dynamo made me proud
every day of her life. There is nothing she loved more than playing fetch
with that crazy black rubber milk inflater. I could throw it a hundred
times, until my arm was aching, and she’d still drop it at my feet for
more. She never gave up on anything. We were just getting ready to start
and hopefully finish a few more titles as I have her entries sitting on my
desk for obedience and herding trials we were going to attend this summer.
I hope she’ll now be our biggest cheerleader as I do my very best to try
to go on without her, and have the strength to give everything I have in
me to the rest of my amazing Aussie family.
My house is
eerily quiet today. The other dogs sense my grief, and perhaps are feeling
their own. Gracin has plastered himself against me and licks away my
tears. And there’s a lot of tears. There’s no Whiskey whining the loudest
when I reach for the food bowls, in fear she might not get fed. If St.
Peter never cursed before at a whining, screaming dog … I’m sure he will
now. Give ‘em hell, Whiskey.
From the
first few frantic moments of her life until the last moments, she was a
fighter, and I know she likely didn’t give up very easily. She was a most
special girl, with incredible heart and drive, and SUCH a princess. I will
miss her so very, very much. I feel truly blessed and honored for the
incredible but only too brief three years we had together. There will
never be another like My Little Whiskey Girl.
