Kelsey

2/6/92 to 1/5/09

A Love Story...

(With a heartfelt thank you to Tanya)

A newly wed couple, at a chain pet store in Lakewood, CO purchased Kelsey, a black and white Dal. Her nose leather was “heart” shaped. Lots of black spots all over and a tail that almost always was wagging. She had a way of carrying herself that radiated charm. She was a very beautiful girl. The pet store owner knew she was deaf, but didn’t tell them.  When her “master” learned she had been born deaf, he forced her mistress to get rid of her. I learned this when I met some of her former “pack” after Kelsey came to live with my “Pack”.

Kelsey was 7 months old when she was “rescued” by Dalmatian Rescue Of Colorado and came to live with “The Pack”--Specks, a liver (brown) and white Dalmatian, Ms. Blue, a blue Doberman, Andi, a silver gray Wiemaeraner, and me, the human member. She “molded” into the pack, no muss, no fuss, just as if she had always been there.

What follows is a collection of memories, not necessarily in any kind of chronological order.

…Sleeping positions (on the bed) were rearranged that very first night. Kelsey at the foot of the bed, (that’s where she slept for her entire life, keeping my feet warm) Specks by my right leg, Ms. Blue on the right side of my chest, and Andi on the left side of my chest. If it sounds like it was crowded, oh yes it was. I would wake up some mornings; everybody’s legs and my arms intertwined, and was real glad nobody had yelled “FIRE”. There would have been multiple broken limbs.

…I learned not to pet Kelsey after she had gone to bed for the night, she would curl her lip and growl at me. If I persisted, she would nip me! Put my cold feet on her, fine. Pet her, no way. I could pet her, on the bed, in the mornings and get lots of “thumpy butt”. Sometimes even a smile. I decided she just wasn’t a “night dog”.

… I also learned not to leave any kind of chocolate, even cocoa, where she could get to it. She would steal it. She also quickly earned the nickname “Killer”. If you think your dog gets gas….. There was many a time that I was glad I had quit smoking before I got her. The night she let loose, under the covers, into Specks face, I learned that a dog could actually gasp for air. Specks refused to get back in bed the rest of the night.

…Kelsey was fascinated by my shaving, would sit on the toilet seat and watch. She would also put her “scent” over mine every time I pee’ed outside. She knew whose human I was; she just wanted the rest of the world to know it.

…Kelsey had been living with the pack about a week, when I was wakened at about 1 A.M. by the sound of running water. Since I was the only “human” living in the house, I was naturally concerned. I swung my feet out of bed; into 2 inch’s of water. Kelsey was in the overflowing bathtub, having herself a grand time. When I flipped the lever to open the drain, she promptly used her nose to flip it shut again. And when I shut the water off, she used her mouth, on the knobs, to turn it on again. AND She growled at me! She would join, uninvited; anyone, and I mean ANYONE, in the bathtub or shower. I was often asked why there was a keyed lock on the bathroom door.  I had a lady friend that found out the hard way, to always lock the bathroom door. There was the time she joined a man in the bathhouse in the R.V. Park at White City, NM. He should have locked the door since he “didn’t want any help”. Kelsey was just trying to be sociable. Keeping Kelsey out of water proved to be a problem her entire life. I often wondered if she had gills.

…I would often take the pack up into the CO High Country (South Park) where another pack and their humans, that were friends, owned some property. I would turn them loose to run, to get some exercise. I figured the wild life had better look out for itself. On one such trip, when the 4 of them came running by, Kelsey was bleeding profusely from the tip of her left ear. I loaded 3 of them into the camper shell, and put Kelsey into the cab with me, and drove like a maniac for Denver. Shifting a 5 speed transmission, steering, and trying to keep pressure on the vein of her ear was no fun. Just west of Bailey, (I was showing 90 on the Speedo) a state patrol cop came up behind me, CHRISTMAS TIME!!  When he came up to window, I held two bloody hands out and said, “I need escort to Littleton Animal Hospital, and can you call and alert them?” “Sure thing” he said. Thank god for an animal lover. We pulled Crow Hill at a hundred. Long story short, after some stitch’s, 2 blood transfusions, a $200.00 bill to clean the interior of the p/up, a $1200.00 bill from the vet, and two months later, everything was back to normal. Well… As normal as it got at my house.

…About 7 P.M., two weeks after Kelsey moved in, about someone beat on the front door. I opened it, a woman pushed me out of the way, came in, announced “I’m Kelsey’s Grandmother and I’m here to make sure she has a good home this time.” She wanted to see where Kelsey slept, had to be showed that Kelsey got to eat out of a pan, that Kelsey had toys to play with, and had to be reassured, many times, that Kelsey was now a “inside dog”. Grandma told me what she thought of her son-in-law and left. Later that summer, I got to meet Kelsey’s Aunt and Uncle. They didn’t seem to like Kelsey’s former “Daddy” either.

…On another trip to South Park, I stopped along the Tarryall River, renowned for excellent Fly Fishing, and let the Pack out. Kelsey and water? I should have known better. Three of the four went wading (Ms. Blue would not, willingly, get into water) Silted up the river real good. Just as a ”committee” of Fishermen appeared  “requesting” me to “Get those ----ing dogs out of the water”, Kelsey jammed her head under water, and came up with a 10” Brookie. One of the fishermen was very impressed, wanted to buy Kelsey. Told me to “Name your price.” Kelsey wouldn’t let go of the fish till we got into the car. She knew that fisherman would steal it from her. I drove about a mile, and tossed it out the window (fish bones not being good for dogs). Kelsey pouted for the better part of a week. A can of tuna cheered her back up.

…I would leave the back door open, in warm weather, so the dogs could come and “Go” as they needed. That is, until Kelsey brought the running Rainbird sprinkler into the kitchen. After 2 more such incidents, the door was shut if I was watering the back yard. All the neighbors would come out to watch Kelsey play in the sprinkler. Pull up their lawn chairs, watch the show. You should have seen them run for it when Kelsey would grab the sprinkler and head their way. I think I could have charged admission, and, gotten it.

…The next-door neighbor’s wife, Monica, announced over the fence one spring that she was going to plant a garden. I told her that since I liked corn she could plant that next to the fence so I wouldn’t have to climb over the fence to pick it. She asked, suspiciously, what veggie I didn’t like, I told her ”Beans.” As spring progressed into summer I noticed that the beans were growing through the fence and setting on lots of pods. They were ripe for picking, when I heard Monica yelling for me. I went out, into the back yard, and there was Kelsey, eating green beans right off the vine. Monica refused to believe that I hadn’t taught Kelsey to do it.

…In the spring of 1997 the human member of the pack decided to sell the house, buy a R.V. trailer and travel (and work) hither and yon (The early 1960’s TV show “Route 66” had a deep and long lasting effect on me). If you, in the spring and summer of that year saw a purple 1958 Edsel pulling a “Chalet” fold-up trailer, that was us. Our first stop was Tulsa, OK. where Kelsey swam in the Arkansas River. Our next stop was Memphis, TN, where Kelsey, on a leash, waded in the Mississippi River. She also thought she should swim with the Peabody ducks. I still maintain that it wouldn’t have hurt the ducks to share their pond.

...We next went to League City, TX., for a national meet of the Lincoln Continental Owners Club, where everybody, and everything, swam in the parking lot. I have never, in my life, seen so much rain at one time. We went on down to Galveston Island so we could all swim in the Gulf of Mexico. We went next to Big Bend National Park, TX, where Kelsey waded the Rio Grande over to Mexico. Refused to come back, till I loaded everybody else and started to drive away. I know that dogs can’t walk on water, but Kelsey did a d--ned good impression of running on it.

…We went on to El Paso, TX; Phoenix, AZ; Kingman, AZ; and then to L.A. Kelsey and everybody swam in the Pacific Ocean, at Ventura Beach. Kelsey was NOT impressed with the weight lifters; refused to have anything to do with them.

...Seventeen years of memories. Kelsey digging, and I mean digging, for clams on Chesapeake Bay and a church youth group trying to catch them in the air. Kelsey getting to swim in the Atlantic Ocean at Norfolk Va. She OOZED affection on the Navy men, made a fool of herself. Kelsey convincing more than one dog hater that a Dalmatian would be a nice dog to have. Of Kelsey, the chocolate freak, leaning so far out of the car, sniffing the air, in Hershey PA, that she fell out. (The car was stopped.) The checkout clerk, at King Soopers, that refused to believe that I brought Mr. Bubbles for my dog. Got real stuffy about it in fact. The time she chewed open the new bottle of Mr. Bubbles. The Vet refused to believe that she had willingly drank bubble bath. That is, until she farted a soap bubble in his face. The time, at the checkpoint between El Paso, TX and Carlsbad, NM that she “kissed” a Border Patrol Agent on the nose. The look on his face was priceless. The many times she “fell” into the goldfish pond. Yeah; I didn’t believe it either. The water lilies didn’t stand a chance.

…Seventeen years!!

…Trimming Kelsey’s nails from day one, was, shall I say, a challenge. The first 8 years I would corner her in the bedroom, pick her up, put her on the bed, and because we had done this before, throw myself on top of her, reach under the two of us, and pull a foot out, and trim nails. And so on, until I had got all 4 feet. Yelling, cussing, biting, growling, bleeding, and perspiration accompanied all of this. And then there were the bad days too. After I became disabled, I would take her to the vet for her pedicures. This required 2 vet techs to hold her body, me to hold her head, and of course, the Vet to trim the nails. On one occasion, the Vet I liked was busy, so the other Vet in the office said that he would “do the pedicure”. When he came in the exam room, alone, I advised him that he would need help. “BULLS**T” he said. “When I need help trimming a dogs toenails, I’ll retire” When Kelsey and I left, one Vet was stitching up the other Vet’s fingers. I had to go back the next day to get Kelsey the pedicure. Giving Kelsey a nail trim was NOT a decision made lightly.

…I remember watching Kelsey catch crawfish (and eat them) on the Republican River in Neb. You should have smelled “Killer” after that. Kelsey jumping in the Missouri River at Atchison, Kansas and getting swept downstream. I thought I’d lost her that time. Kelsey (and Specks) getting to ride in an antique fire truck, in the 4th of July parade, in Alpine, TX.  Kelsey, and the rest of the pack, riding innertubes down the South Platte River at Julesburg, CO. Kelsey swimming in the Harlan County Reservoir at Alma, NE. Kelsey climbing into a rain barrel in Essex, Iowa. (It was the largest body of water available and, it was hot weather.) Kelsey joining a herd of Javalina’s outside of Ft. Davis, TX at the Crows Nest R.V. Park. That was another time I thought she was gone for good; you don’t mess with Javalina’s. That was the same place a wild turkey joined the pack. I think he was just lonely. We were usually the only campers there, but there was the time some other campers dog went after the turkey. The dog was surprised by the number of “animals” that went to the protection of the turkey.

…Kelsey was always up for a game of “chase flashlight beam”. There was the night at the Rio Grande Village, in Big Bend National Park, that a man, on his way to the bathroom, unwillingly became a player in the game. “Turn out the light!” I yelled, across the park. “Hell no!” he yelled back, “I want to see if it’s going to bite me.” All of this yelling at 2 A.M. did not exactly endear me and my dog to the other campers.

…She was 15 the time she awoke, and seeing a mouse, a TINY, TINY, mouse running across the floor towards her, leapt up in the air, lit running and JUMPED on top of my head and shoulders. (I was sitting in a chair.) I felt so protected.  She couldn’t jump into the p/up or onto the bed, had to have help, but sure could make it to the top of my head when she felt the necessity.

…She was 16 and asleep on the right seat, when I stopped at a red light in downtown El Paso. A man jerked the right door open, Kelsey, rudely awakened, roared at him, he took off running, she chased him two blocks south. If he had given me time, I could have told him that it would be the height of stupidity to interrupt her nap; not even I could get away with that. I had learned to “let sleeping dogs lie.”

…She was 2 months shy of 17 when a stray black Labrador showed up on the doorstep. When he tried to stop her from joining him at the food dish, she turned on him so fast that he fell over backwards. Pee'd on himself too. She put her front feet on his chest and “read to him from the book”. She then commenced to eat; when he started to get up, she “read” him another page. He stayed on his back till she was done eating; he decided it was safer that way.

…The large number of people that were astounded that I had taken the time to teach a deaf dog sign language. I had to have some way of scolding her. Not that it ever did much good.

… I never, not once, regretted giving her a home. She taught me to love again after a very painful divorce. She was there for me when it was time to let Ms. Blue, then Andi, and then Specks, go. The way she comforted me, ME! when it was time to let her go. I wanted to carry her in, like I had the other three, but she insisted on walking. I tried so hard to be brave, so she wouldn’t be scared. I picked her up, put her on the exam table, and leaned over her, put my arms around her, kissed her, she licked the tears off my face. I KNOW she KNEW why we were there, but, to paraphrase the old saying, “she used her dieing breath to kiss the face of her murderer”. She was a damn good dog, that that IDIOT didn’t want because she was deaf.

…I don’t know how I’m going to keep my feet warm.

Rick Addenbrooke