In Memoriam of Talisker

I write today with a heavy heart. I wanted to write yesterday but could not find the words. I received a message from one of my best friends that their boy Talisker had passed on.

Talisker was a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog...all 140 pounds of him. And loud and proud.

There is something special about our first dog. They are, for some of us, our training wheels; a test to see if we are ready for the greatest responsibility...bringing children into our world. They also teach the ultimate lesson for our children, a lesson of death.

Talisker was their first. He was wonderful, he was loud and he was family. Hope and I even looked after him when he was just a young pup. He played and romped with Gibson after he finished letting Gibs know who ruled the house.

His registered AKC name was Rock the Casbah. Every time I hear that Clash song, I have always thought of Talisker. The last time I heard the song was my most recent trip to Rapid City while I was sitting in the ref room for a Rush game. For that brief moment, I was thinking of Talisker.

Here's to you T, we all love you, we all already miss you. Make sure you let everyone know who is in charge of the wonderful puppy play land you now reside in.

Emiko in the morning

Emiko called out when she woke up around 6:30 this morning, saying "Daddy...Daddy."

Hope suggested that I respond and I trundled out of bed and went into Emi's room. She was lying in her bed, surrounded by her blankets and her stuffed animals. Quite quiet and very calm.

As always, she told me "I woke up."

And I responded, "Yes, you did. Do you want to go cuddle in my bed?"

"No, I want to go downstairs.I want to check on Molly."

"But Mommy is in the bathroom. Do you want to go see her in the bathroom?"

"No, I want to go downstairs. I want to check on MOLLY and Izzy!"

"Ohhhh...they aren't her right now."

A sad face.

"We can ask them to have a sleepover next time they are here. That way they could be here in the morning."

A happy face.

"Yes, I want to go downstairs to check on Molly!"

******

My lovely daughter in the morning.

In Remembrance of Darrell

Not all of you have had the opportunity to have met Darrell. But all of you will have a chance to know him just a little bit through this blog.

Darrell was a wonderful Yellow Lab who lived with Pat and Ed. Hope and I have spent some wonderful time with him. He has traveled with Gibson in the back of the Land Rover. We have gone hiking, spent time playing at the Lewis' cabin and simply watched his antics as he played with a young puppy named Gibson. In fact, Darrell was the one who taught Gibson the lab crawl.

The lab crawl? When Darrell was in a down stay, he would often, while he thought no one was watching, inch closer to whatever was of interest. The family, the dining room table, the kitchen or the food which was recently dropped on the floor. To his credit, this was incredibly endearing. And Gibson picked up on it. Knowing our monster, he will continue to practice his lab crawl for years to come.

Darrell and Gibson made for fast friends. Their romps around the house and in the backyard terrorizing the cat and racing about kept us on the edge of our seats as we sat and watched. Darrell's antics with Gibson usually culminated in him trying to mount Gibson. They had a very unique relationship and both were far more patient with each other than the rest of us ever expected them to be.

Pat and Ed raised Darrell from a puppy for a specific purpose. When he was old enough, he was sent off to become a seeing eye dog. He did amazingly well. Pat and Ed both thought they would never get a chance to see him again. But on the last day of instruction...his final test...he failed out. He was too focused and too compassionate to become a full fledged guide dog. And much to Pat and Ed's surprise, he showed up back at their doorstep, ready for a life of leisure with them.

Not that he got it. As Pat is an instructor for vision and mobility impaired students, Darrell often served as a guide dog for her students. And he performed his job impeccably whenever he was called upon to serve in his guide harness. To the best of my knowledge, he even passed muster and boarded an airline with his passenger in tow.

Darrell, truly, was a phenomenal dog. It is with many fond memories and a great deal of tears in my eyes that I try to recount just a small part of his life with the Lewis' today.

Darrell, your kind eyes, your youthful energy and your wise, wise looks will live on with us forever. And to Pat and Ed, Emi, Hope, Gibson and I mourn with you. We will all miss him.

From A puppy named Gibson

In remembrance of Sasha

It tears me up when dogs pass away. But it makes me realize how special our time with Gibson is.

This showed up this morning from our good friend Pete and our heart goes out to him. Sasha is a wonderful dog and will live on in our memories.


Sasha 12/27/03 - 5/10/08

If you're receiving this e-mail it's because you, among countless others, touched the life of of an extraordinary dog named Sasha.

Sasha lost her four and half year battle with cancer early this afternoon. As most of your know, Sasha lived the majority of her joyful life with a common disease among Golden Retrievers associated with mass cell tumors.

When I look back at the time that I was privileged to have spent with Sasha, I will always remember what a kind, intelligent and loving dog she was that wanted nothing more from life than another treat and an enduring sense of wanting to appease the ones around her. I will remember her gentle nature and her innate ability to put a smile on the faces of all those who were fortunate to have known her. I will remember her kind face and happy smile. I will remember our long walks/runs along the greenbelt where she loved to terrorize the local rabbit population. Deep down inside, I think she knew that she would never have the satisfaction of catching one, but for her it was all about the chase. I will remember taking her with me everywhere I went, whether it was on a quick trip to the grocery store, an afternoon of running errands, an evening barbeque, a day on the slopes at Winter Park, a weekend camping trip to Winding River Campground, a Christmas party at the Boettcher's/Schoech's or on a long road trip to Evanston, she was always by my side. Sasha was always happiest when she was around the ones she loved and the ones that loved her. Sasha and I were fortunate enough to be able to spend every afternoon and evening with each other over the past year and a half while I was at work, as she accompanied me to the rink on a daily basis. I truly believe that this time that we were able to spend together gave her the strength and desire to fight off her cancer as long as she did. Sasha was a part of my family and I can honestly say that I am a better person for having had her in my life. She will always occupy a very special place in my heart and I can not begin to express with words alone how much I will miss her.

I love you Sasha.......and with that I say goodbye to you for now.

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