Sadie Allard 1/22/1998 - 3/11/2009

Eleven years ago, after moving into our first house, my husband announced that he wanted a dog. I had always been a cat owner and I had no intention of ever owning a dog. Dogs barked too much. Dogs drooled and licked your face. Dogs were hyper and ran around the house, knocking things off shelves and onto the floor. Dogs jumped up on you and put paw prints on your nice clean clothing. Dogs left steaming gifts for you in the backyard that you had to pick up.

No thank you, sir.

No dog for me.

My husband is no fool. He put together a pretty convincing argument. He reminded me that he spent about 3 months a year alone in the woods, hours from the nearest human, doing field work; a dog would be good company and would alert him of any impending danger. A dog could watch the house for us when we were at work, protecting our few possessions. A dog would be good company for me during my 5:00 am walks. Finally, I agreed to go to the pound and see what they had to offer, but I did so under duress.

As we stood in the yard of the Laramie, Wyoming, Humane Society, I watched my husband trying out several dogs. They behaved in just the manner I suspected they would. They barked, they jumped and yes, some of them even pooped. This was not going to be fun. Then I looked to my left and noticed that a timid black dog with brown markings above her eyes had sidled up next to me. As I turned to look down, she glanced up and her eyes met mine. I could tell that she had experienced more hardships in her life than anyone (human or dog) should. As our eyes met, she leaned over and tenderly licked me. My cat-loving, stone-cold-heart melted. I called to Steve and told him that I had found our dog.

Undernourished, afraid of her own shadow, but eager to please, Sadie came to live with us. I've never looked back. Sadie broke all my preconceived notions of dogdom and shattered all my stereotypical assumptions about dog behavior. She was gentle. She never jumped up on me (except to steal a kiss). She had a stub of a tail so she never knocked anything off the shelf. In the eleven years she lived with us, I only heard her bark 5 or 6 times and each time she did so to alert us of potential danger. She was great with kids, even to the point where she allowed Katie to dress her up in various outfits, and to ride her like a horse. She did leave steaming presents for me in the back yard, but hey, no dog is perfect.

One year ago today our wonderful dog Sadie passed away. That morning, I left for work in the same manner that I do every morning. I scratched her between the ears, told her to be good, and assured her that she was the “best dog ever”. I had no idea when I left that it would be the last time I would see her alive. When the vet did the autopsy, she found several cancer spots on her liver. She doesn't think that Sadie was in pain, because Sadie hadn't given any symptoms of distress. I am grateful that Steve was home with her when she died. I am grateful that she was not in pain and that I did not have to choose to put her to sleep. Mostly I am grateful to have been blessed with ten years as her person.

Sadie, you were an amazing dog. Rest in Peace.