The passage of time

I have never had very good time memory.  I know the year of my birth, and the dates that I graduated from high school, college, and law school (actually I only know the first of these but I can add 5 and then 4 to get the latter two).  Unless I can relate an event to one of these things, I really can't tell you when it happened.  (Fortunately, Clay is very much the opposite in this regard.  He can even put dates to events in my life that occurred before we met.)  I am always surprised then to get an email from a former adopter telling me that it has been x number of years since I introduced them to the love of their life. 

Those are the best emails to get, of course, but I'm always amazed when they tell me how long it's been.

This pretty girl is Abby.  She's a beautiful ruby red golden retriever. She is really, really red, like Irish Setter red, the first of her breed I had seen in that color.  I received a email a couple weeks ago saying that it was the fifth anniversary of her second adoption.  I don't remember where she originally came from, but I adopted her out to a couple who lived up around Culpeper as I recall.  She was wonderful, but she was returned when the husband slipped and fell on ice and died of a brain injury.  A horrible tragedy and a reminder to us all to be extremely careful.  The wife didn't think she could handle both the dogs, so Abby came back to me.  I know she wasn't back with me long when I received an application, email, self-supplied references, and photographs from a woman in Delaware.  My Scooby sense told me this was a good adopter and they drove down from Delaware to meet me and Abby in Gainesville one day.  Abby went on to a new life and a new career as a therapy dog.  The picture on the right is a 5' tall poster displayed in the lobby of a hospital cancer center.  Abby is a remarkable dog in an excellent home. 

Stonewall (a/k/a Stoney) is a rottie I took in from a young woman who was divorced, worked long hours, and no longer had time or room in her life for a dog.  Rotties are both laid back and demanding.  To have one is to serve one. They are a big presence in one's life.  They have needs.  They aren't high strung and demanding in the way of a shepherd.  It's almost more of a guilt trip, you just feel terrible if you disappoint them.  The rottie folks will understand. 

Anyway, Stoney's adoption happened almost eight years ago and he is now a 13 year old dog.  That's quite old for a pure bred rottie and although Stoney has been well cared for his entire life, he's having some old dog issues now.  I can't believe it's been that long.  His adopter has become a good friend and she and another friend raised the money for all of Rocky's very extensive and expensive surgeries and medical treatment. 

Stoney was also a certified therapy dog, which is a job rotties are well suited for because they love nothing more than to sit and lean against someone for contact, touch, petting, and attention.  I know he's still done some nursing home visits, but most of his therapy work has been done at home for the past eight years, being a companion second to none.  He has also spread the gospel to many people he has met and encountered over the years-- the good news that rottweilers are good dogs.