Last Dog Standing

I never thought that Ernie, my black lab, would be the Last Dog Standing. Ernie (a girl, but named for Ernie Els) is not a dog that likes to be alone. Ever since she was a pup she had her sister, Gyro, to hang with, look out for her and keep her in line. The few times they had to go to a kennel, they shared a cage. We paid for two cages, but insisted they stay together. Ernie is a lab that never “took off” like labs are known to do. She stayed by our side simply because that was what Gyro taught her to do. German Shepherds are like that I guess. Ernie was her sheep to herd when we brought her home as a puppy.

So this morning I set out to write a blog obituary for my German Shepherd, Gyro, who died this past week. Instead, I decided to blog about Ernie, the Last Dog Standing. For in telling Ernie’s story, Gyro will be remembered. Isn’t that what obituaries are for afterall?

Ernie, short for Ernestine although no one calls her that since we all know she is Ernie Els in canine form, was one year younger than Gyro. My husband bought her for me as a birthday gift but she really isn’t my dog because like Gyro, she gravitated toward one master, he who feeds, walks and waters. In a way my husband was her master first, Gyro her master second. She will be 11 in the fall and for 11 years she has been living in the shadow of her sister, Gryo. Don’t get me wrong, she has a personality that is quite her own. Spend a day in our house and you’d realize that right away. But when your big sister is trained by nature to herd you and keep you in line, well you live in her shadow a lot.

But keeping Ernie in line when she was being trained as a puppy was not always easy, even for a smart dog like Gyro. Ernie REFUSED to be crate trained. REFUSED. No matter how small we made the crate, she’d mess the crate and herself. Then we had the ‘brilliant’ idea that we put Gyro in the crate with her when we went out. We soon learned that we would come home to two dogs covered in poop or pee and an even bigger mess to clean up.

So we tried the “block her in the kitchen” thing. Pushed the fridge in front of one entrance to the kitchen and got a huge piece of plywood and boarded up the other entrance with a 6 ft tall wall of wood. First day we did that we put both dogs in the kitchen. We came home to find Ernie still in the kitchen and Gryo hanging out in the living room. Gyro had scaled the plywood barrier and left Ernie inside. Afterall, her other job was to guard the house and I guess she decided that wasn’t going to work being locked in the kitchen. Just like when we crate trained Gyro, there wasn’t a crate she couldn’t escape. We tried bungie cords. We tried rope. And then we had to padlock her in the crate and lay the key on the floor so that if there was a fire or emergency someone could unlock all the padlocks and let her out. So perhaps in some dogspeak Gryo told Ernie to be a dog that refused to be crated. I think so.

Both dogs were raised for the majority of their lives on a golf course. In fact, they both were trained to never walk on the greens or the apron of the green. They knew their place was in the fairway to run and the rough to poop or pee. Ernie, like most labs, was naturally drawn to water. She loved to swim in the golf course ponds. Most summer nights we would take the golf cart and the dogs would follow us out to the ponds to catch a frisbee and swim.

Now with our two very different dogs (we’re talking intelligence here), frisbee throwing was always amusing. On land, Gyro was the frisbee champ. There wasn’t a frisbee she couldn’t catch. She’d jump as high as she had to and run faster in order to get it before Ernie. And Ernie was too short and too lazy to try and beat her to it. But in the pond, Ernie was reigning queen of frisbee. She kind of looked like an otter, just her head above the water skimming the surface, gliding to the frisbee. Gyro was the living definition of the “doggy paddle,” head high out of the water, splashing very unladylike as she could get it. But Ernie always got the frisbee in the water. Ernie ruled the pond. And in a way she taught Gyro how to swim because German Shepherds are not water dogs, they don’t take to water naturally like labs.

While most dogs these days are raised knowing how to walk on a leash, ours never grasped that concept. Gyro, with her territorial nature and constant need to run, hated the leash with a passion. When we lived in our apartment (and my Dad was the landlord) she would scare the neighbors simply by being present in the yard. We had a small side yard there and after work and in the evenings we’d throw the frisbee or a tennis ball for her. If she came within an inch of the neighbors yard the cops would be called. Some people just don’t get German Shepherds. All she wanted was her frisbee, not to attack anyone! So Gyro and the cops got to know each other pretty well. Luckily, the cop that usually showed up was a neighbor of my parents and Officer Chambers loved her, thought Gyro was the most beautiful specimen of the breed. And she was. In mind, body and spirit.

Now Ernie has never had the cops called on her. She’s just not that kind of dog. So in that sense, The Last Dog Standing did not follow Gyro. She stayed in the air conditioning and slept and ate. She didn’t scare people. She didn’t run. She knew her job–to be cute, eat a lot, bark a lot at nothing, swim and sleep. Gyro was clearly more intelligent. It only took one run in with a skunk on the golf course for her to recognize the smell of a skunk and get out of dodge. Ernie? Not so smart. She’d get sprayed. Even after we left the golf course, if we were driving in the car and someone had run over a skunk and that skunky smell was still in the air? Gyro’s ears would go back and she’d look for cover. She was just that smart.

Gyro was my safety net. Before I had children and my husband would travel, I never felt scared. I always felt protected. She alerted me to every sound outside and inside our house. She entered every room before me to make sure it was safe. The few times she was on a leash for a walk she was never a dog that would walk by my side. She always had to be out in the front, making sure the way we were going was “all clear.”

And when we had children, she became their safety net as well. She slept under their cribs. She guarded them like they were her pups. Ernie, however, is a different story. If someone broke into our house right now she’d probably not even get out from under the coffee table (her space these days) and if she did she’d wag her tail expecting a biscuit. She never had to guard or protect. Like me and the boys, Gyro did that for her, too. Gyro only showed her teeth or growled at other dogs if they came near Ernie. If we had Gyro alone, meeting other dogs was never an issue. But if we had them together, look out. Gyro wouldn’t let any dog near Ernie. That was her job.

When Gyro died last Wednesday we took Ernie with us to say goodbye to her. Most people who aren’t dog lovers or don’t appreciate the relationship these two dogs had with each other, would think this is insane. But it wasn’t. Just as we needed to say goodbye and the boys needed to tell her to say “hi” to Buc our cat who is also up in heaven, Ernie needed to say goodbye, too. So after we said our goodbyes and sent her on her way with greetings for Buc and all the goldfish we’ve sent up to heaven, I took the boys home, and Ernie and my husband stayed with Gyro until the end. Because that’s just what Gyro needed and just what Ernie needed.

Gyro & Buc

Now that Gyro has been gone several days I notice things haven’t really changed with Ernie. I think she notices the loss. But she’s getting old, too. Gyro’s chair next to our bed, the one she slept in ever since she was a pup, is still there. And as she got arthritic and couldn’t get up on the chair we put dog beds down for her. Those beds are still there, too. And Ernie hasn’t tried to sleep on either. It’s almost as if she is paying her respects to Gyro by NOT infringing on Gyro’s territory.

The house is more quiet. Since Ernie doesn’t get out from under the coffee table very much she’s not looking out the window barking at anything. Gyro’s spot was towards the end of the couch with her head resting on the arm of the couch so she could relax and still see out the front window and see the path to the door. Always on guard. Always keeping me warm in the winter when I couched it with a good book in front of the fire.

So here we are in a new chapter of dog life. Last week we had two dogs. Now we have one. Less noise–less toenails clicking on the hallway floor at night, less barking. One dog dish. One leash. Just one dog. It isn’t a chapter we want to write or live out, but most chapters in life aren’t always what we want, are they?

The Last Dog Standing is holding her own for now. She went for a swim in the pond yesterday. But there was no frisbee throwing. I don’t think she even swam very much. Afterall, her best friend wasn’t there to swim with her. I’m sure that if Ernie could speak she’d tell me she thought of Gyro in that pond yesterday, that she remembered the frisbee swimming days and the excitement they shared racing behind the golf cart, headed to their pond for a swim.

Grief has a power of its own, even for dogs.

The Last Dog Standing will teach us a lot I have a feeling…

Animals are such agreeable friends – they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms. ~George Eliot

An animal’s eyes have the power to speak a great language. ~Martin Buber

Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet. ~Colette

While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die. ~Leonardo Da Vinci

We understand death for the first time when he puts his hand upon one whom we love. ~Madame de Stael

After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. ~J.K. Rowling