Dali / Dolly / Dalai

She was our family dog. We spotted her at the shelter in a cage with several other puppies, and she was the cutest and calmest, so we chose her and took her home. It was February, right around Valentine's Day. It turned out that she was sick, not calm, and when she was healthy she had all the typical puppy energy and behavior issues. But she was still the cutest of the litter.

The shelter people (no, not Leon Russell and his friends, the other shelter people) said she was a Dalmatian-Lab mix. Someone throught she might have been part beagle. One self-appointed expert said no, definitely a German shorthaired pointer. Whatever.

Gven and the kids, who were 11 and 13 at the time, bonded with Dali right away. I somehow acquired the naming rights, but it took me a little longer to bond, being the alpha dog in our pack and slightly less enamored of the whole having-a-dog experience, but I came around eventually. I think when I started walking her regularly, getting used to the leash and plastic bag routine, and seeing Dali respond so well to that time together, I started to get with the program.

She was trained. I was trained. You are your own dog.

When I attempted a comeback as a runner several years ago, Dali became my running buddy. Every night we would hit the streets of Methodistville, and both of us got a workout, since her short-legged gait matched my shortened 50-something stride. She was happy as a clam as we got to know the neighborhood. My athletic comeback was short-lived, so our nightly run eventually became a nightly walk. She was okay with that.

Jessi and Zelda grew up, went off to college, came back, got their own places, came back some more, and Dali/Dolly/Dalai was always - ALWAYS - tickled to see them. Of course. She was their dog. They were her humans. They raised her from a pup, and she faithfully protected their home.

In her last years, Dali still eagerly went for walks with Gven, usually with Gven's friend Kate and her dog Sadie. Dali and Sadie enjoyed many play-dates and became close friends and confidantes. Sadie's pack dog-sat for Dali when we were out of town, and we dog-sat for Sadie when her pack was out of town. It's good to have neighbors you like and trust.

Dali developed a hip problem and slowed down quite a bit. She had always run slightly sideways, and at age 14 that odd gait became a pronounced limp. Going up stairs has been difficult for the last year or so, and toward the end she had trouble getting up on the couch. She recently lost the use of her larynx so she couldn't bark. Her energy waned, and she rarely went out in the yard by herself. Toward the end she didn't wag her tail very often and lost the gleam in her eye.

On Friday morning, Gven let her out and Dali lay down in her favorite spot under the redbud tree near the back door. When Gven returned a few minutes later, Dali wasn't breathing. I know she wasn't happy, and I'd like to think she went peacefully, knowing she was loved. We buried Dali that night in the back corner of the yard, next to her buddy Gus, the cat.