Annie Joy

We said goodbye to Annie on Tuesday. It was her time. Her kidneys had failed her and she was in near constant pain. Pain that we were treating with Tramadol and Gabapentin. Annie never complained and was never without a smile, or the fervent desire to chase a stick or a ball – although in the last couple of years she left most of the leg work to Marlon.

I first met Annie when Carol invited me over for drinks and Q&A early in our courting. We (Annie and I) hit it off immediately and wound up wrestling on the floor like a couple of mutts at the park. I wrote Carol the next day and told her I was in love with her dog.

Annie’s full name was Annie Joy, for all the joy that she brought everyone she met. Just what kind of dog was she?

• Tireless – she’d chase kiteboarders up and down the banks of the Columbia River for hours, either to their amusement or annoyance depending on how well they knew her.
• Protective – Annie got on with everyone, except for those she didn’t. If Annie didn’t like you she’d turn on you like Cujo. Hiking solo deep in the woods, Carol relied completely on Annie’s judgement with strangers and there was never a better camp watchdog. Alert and attentive to every sound in the night forest she made sure that everyone, especially the kids, were safe.
• Food oriented – Half Labrador, half Golden Retriever, Annie ate everything put in front of her. Curiously it took her seven or eight years to discover that our fig tree would drop loads of ripe, sugary, laxative bombs every year in mid-August. When she could, she’d stand on her hind legs and pull the delicious low hanging fruit off the branches. Suffice it to say she spent a great deal of late summer out of doors.
• Adventurous – there wasn’t any form of water Annie didn’t love or indulge in. Rivers were her playground, oceans terrifically awesome (especially drinking all that salt water – so good for purging). Snow was both delirious and silly fun. Impervious to the cold, she learned early on that breaking trail in deep snow was hard work. Much better to follow the daft humans with their oversized shoes as closely as possible.

Annie rolled with things. She loved attention, but, like so many of us, was also willing to share as long as there was an upside. When Banjo, our dearly departed Aussie/Border Collie, came to stay, they got on so well it was as if they’d been litter mates. When Marlon arrived, Annie and Banjo let him get on with being a puppy and ignored most of his antics, only occasionally straightening the little guy out. After Banjo passed away and Annie began slowing down, Marlon gave up most of his territorial ambitions in favor of supporting his much older den buddy. For the past nine months Tai and Travis (her flatmate) have been taking wonderful care of Annie and Marlon, with much happiness all round.

Later in life, Annie preferred her meds slathered in peanut butter. Shortly her pain would abate and the puppy in her would reappear. For 20 minutes she’d frolic and demand attention until Morpheus called her to sleep. She loved her walks, but without her painkillers she’d only manage a half mile before her hips complained, then her shoulders would grumble, and with her sadly atrophied hind quarters she’d two-step homewards, seeking the comforts of a cool spot dug deep in the garden’s soil. Once wriggled into the dirt she’d lay with a smile that said she knew the damaged plants could always be replaced.

Our Epic Road Trip was as much about spending time with Annie as anything else. Doing all the things she loved, as far as she was able. Camping, hiking, swimming, standing watch, and wolfing down ice cream. And then it was her time. Too soon, too soon, all too soon…