Standing like a stone wall

Stonewall Jackson got his nickname at the first battle of Manassas, when another Confederate general pointed him out to his own men and exclaimed: "There is Jackson standing like a stone wall." The name "Stonewall" stuck and came to be associated with any immovable object or irresistible force. Thus understood, it is an entirely appropriate name for a rottweiler. Rotties use their mass to their advantage. When they want something to move or open, they lower their head into position like a battering ram and apply force to whatever stands in their way until it yields to them. When they don't want to move or do something, they become inert dead weight, defying you to move them. "Stonewall" is the quintessential rottweiler name.


I met Stonewall the rottweiler (or Stoney as he was mostly known) about 8 years ago when he was given up by a tearful young woman who had gone through a divorce and just really couldn't give him the time and attention he needed. I was still fairly new to rescue and rottweilers myself. We had Jack, and had fostered Maggie and her pups (including our Bremo), but I don't think we had placed too many rotties at that point. Stoney came with a pedigree, a full vet history, and a therapy dog certification. This was a well-loved and well-cared for dog. I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but I think someone at the vet's office contacted a client of theirs who had recently lost her last rottie.  We first met at an Animal Connections adoption event outside Harris Teeter in Charlottesville. She had a rottweiler sized hole in her heart, a hole that could only be filled by another rottie.

It was one of the best human/canine matches I've been a part of, where the person's needs and the dog's needs were just a perfect fit with what the other had to offer. Because they were so well matched, they were able to communicate at a deep level. Rotties can always make their wishes known, and Stoney was particularly expressive, using a combination of eye contact, vocalization, and foot stomping that never failed to get his point across. When all else failed and you simply refused to understand, he would apply the old rottweiler standby, passive resistence, and just refuse to budge until you figured it out. Stoney was also very empathetic and could read Mary Jane like a book.

Stoney stayed at our place several times over the eight years since he was adopted, on the rare occasions that Mary Jane had to leave town without him. He seemed to understand that he was visiting and forgave our inability to fix his food just right, knowing that it would just be for a couple days. We brought a female rottie into his life a while back and he was fine with that. She gave him a reason to stay active, which I think is a big part of staying healthy and well in a dog's senior years. Clay and I stopped to visit Stoney, Daphne, and Mary Jane last Sunday. His mobility had been declining and at 13 years of age, we knew that we could be near the end. He greeted us as enthusiastically as ever. Looking at him, I didn't see an old dog in declining health, I saw a happy dog who had lived a good long life. I saw a lucky dog who, although he had come from a damned Amish puppy mill, had been well cared for and well loved in not one, but two homes. I saw a dog who had reformed many people's opinions and prejudices concerning rottweilers over the course of his life. I saw a dog who had no regrets.

After a bad night on Monday night, Stoney was in pain on Tuesday and an xray revealed a tumor on his spleen and internal bleeding. It was time to let him go. He went peacefully, wrapped in the arms of the woman he loved. May we all be so lucky.