So many animals to favor, and yet it is the wholeness, the interconnectedness, of *all* animals that I favor most. So, instead, I’ll respond to this prompt as a sort of playful panegyric to our canine companions, past, present, and future. For while I do not favor dogs above all of the animals, no small part of my joy and comfort each day is shaped by canine companions.
Susan and I have been fortunate to count three labrador retrievers as members of our family over the last 22-1/2 years that we’ve been together. And because all three of these smart, loyal, athletic, affectionate, adventurous, and perennially hungry canine companions spent part of their lives at Rosslyn I will focus on them (though both of us shared our lives with dogs before we conjoined our lives, including another labrador retriever named Griffin!)
Carley
Let’s start with Carley Corona, our pandemic puppy.
I have explained in the post linked in the previous sentence how/when Carley joined our family, so I will avoid repeating myself. But, well worth repeating, Carley has the kindest temperament of all three of these labs. That’s notable, in part, because they were all gentle, friendly with people, friendly with dogs, and oh-so easy to love.
But Carley’s demeanor stands out. She is singularly playful, and even the fiercest dogs fail to intimidate her. She counters an angry charge or aggressive bark with a cocked head and patience. Not easily intimidated, nor provoked to become aggressive herself, her eyes twinkle, as if to say, “Oh, come on. You’re not that fierce. Let’s just be friends. Let’s go play!” And most of the time, it works.
Approaching her fourth birthday, Carley is still 100% puppy. She’s never been a chewer, and for all practical purposes she has been well-behaved since that first spring. But she remains incredibly energetic and ever-eager to chase a ball, exhibit her zoomies speed and dexterity, charge up a snowy mountain, or plunge into Lake Champlain. And short, she’s been the perfect dog at the perfect time in our life.
Griffin
Before Carley there was Griffin. Named for my first labrador retriever, he was a soulful, handsome dog who chose us. I don’t recall whether I’ve written about this before, but I’ll recap briefly.
I believe that it was the summer of 2008, after we had lost Tasha, that Susan had scheduled a visit with a breeder in Stowe, Vermont. I believe that she already paid a deposit, but we were not committed to the current litter or a subsequent letter. Frankly, I was not ready for a new dog yet. And we were about to head off to a wedding in the Pacific Northwest, so it was pretty clear to me that we should wait for a subsequent litter. But Susan convinced me that it was a good idea to visit the breeder’s lab puppies, since he had agreed to hold onto a pup until we returned if we decided we’d found a match. I asked Susan’s mother and stepfather to join us to help ensure that we didn’t talk ourselves into a puppy prematurely.
We set off on the scenic drive to the dairy farm in Stowe, Vermont. There must’ve been a dozen adorable, yellow lab puppies playing on the lawn. As soon as we approached, one of them, bigger than the others waddled over to me. His disposition struck me as a little bit sleepy, less rambunctious than all of the others. I leaned down to him, and he lifted his eyes up at me. Two almond shaped eyes. Wise and soulful. A little Buddha puppy. He instantly reminded me of Griffin, the lab that I’d owned in my 20s. I lifted him from the green grass into my arms and looked into those gentle eyes, knowing instantly that this was our dog. Susan and her mother were playing with the other puppies, but they were watching me. My resolve had evaporated. They knew. I knew. Our new little Griffin knew.
The first few months with Griffin were a little challenging. We were just beginning to finish up all of the trim work throughout Rosslyn. With the discipline of an attentive protégé, Griffin shadowed our finish carpenters and painters, chewing up the most delicate moldings and trims as soon as they finished. It was soon clear that he had another challenge. Slow to potty train and anxious, Griffin was diagnosed with Addison’s disease, lifelong condition resulting from his adrenal glands underproducing the hormone cortisol.
Fortunately, his symptoms were milder than they could have been, and we all soon learned to love and support Griffin.
Although Griffin’s condition contributed to his being the highest maintenance of our dogs, he was also incredibly smart, eminently trainable, tall and strong, indefatigable, and for all practical purposes an absolutely exceptional canine companion.
Susan often says that Carley is a “daddy’s boy“ and Griffin was a “mama’s boy”. Perhaps. Though it’s never really struck me that way. Griffin and I spent so much time together cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and gardening. Memories of working in my office are inseparable from Griffin. He’s at my feet, usually dreaming of adventure, legs galloping, muffled yips,… I miss him deeply each time something reminds me of him. So trusting. So soulful.
Tasha
When Susan and I first began to fall for one another in the summer of 2001, Tasha, her downy snow white lab was a beguiling part of the equation. Beautiful woman; beautiful dog. Passionate woman; passionate dog. Adventurous woman; adventurous dog. I was smitten!
As I recall, Tasha was 6-1/2 or 7 when our little threesome braided our dreams into one. Fortunately half of Tasha’s years were still ahead of her. She was a joy filled soul as peripatetic as we were. Whether racing up and down mountains, snowshoeing through knee-deep snow, swimming after frisbees flung from the swim platform of a boat, or road tripping day after day, Tasha embraced adventures big and small with the same enthusiasm.
Although a New York City girl adept at hustling doormen for treats and navigating elevators, escalators, and sidewalk grates, Tasha was exuberant in the countryside. To witness her in Lake Champlain or the Adirondacks you’d think she had grown up in the North Country.
She was chief inspector (and lunchtime beggar) through much of Rosslyn’s rehabilitation. She won the hearts of most everyone that worked on the project, and she spent the last couple of years of her life, certain that all of these contractors had been gathered together to pamper her.
In closing, Tasha, Griffin, and Carley have been the consummate canine companions for Susan for me. They’ve enriched our lives, re-grounded us in important earthly pleasures when we get up in our heads, and they’ve guided us through some of the most trying challenges over the last couple of decades. All three have been, and will continue to be, part of our chosen family. We are forever grateful for the opportunity to share our journey with them.
What do you think?