I am thinking today about Ellie, our first golden retriever, who came into our lives back in 2003 – was an irreplaceable part of our home for 15 years – and then left us on August 23, 2018 … one year ago today.

In some ways, it is a sad anniversary – because it’s the anniversary of a day that brought Kathy and me a great deal of sorrow.   And yet, it’s also a happy anniversary because it gives us reason to stop and remember someone who gave us so much joy.   I’m reminded of a poignant song sung by the great Jane Oliver titled “Beautiful Sadness” that talked about the beautiful sadness one feels when remembering a cherished loved one who is no longer around.  That says it so well.  Yes, it’s sadness – but it’s also so beautiful because of all of the sweetness and joy that are wrapped up in our memories of her.

Kathy has slightly earlier memories of Ellie than I do,  because it was Kathy who traveled to rural Sparta, WI with her best friend, Kate Potter Barrow – Kathy to pick up Ellie and Kate to pick up Ellie’s brother Pete.   I wasn’t there,  but I vividly remember the moment when Kathy called me to say that they were on their way home after many tears shed by her, Kate, and the breeder, Mary Olsen,  who was saying goodbye to her first set of puppies. 

<breeder Mary Olsen with Ellie>

<Kathy with Ellie the day she picked her up to bring her to her new home>

<This is Jackson Potter Barrow with Ellie and Pete the day that they were picked up from the Olsens and brought home.>

All puppies are sweet … but Ellie was sweet upon sweet- and my heart completely melted the first time I laid eyes on her, and melted it remained.

We will always think of Ellie as a gentle soul – which she was- but that’s not the whole picture.   Ellie came from hunting stock,  and she demonstrated that on multiple occasions when she would locate a new rabbit den on our property and come to us with a ‘prize’ proudly gripped in her mouth, ready to deposit it at our ‘grateful’ feet.  Those were some of the hardest moments with Ellie- because she had done absolutely nothing wrong, according to all that she knew.  She was simply being true to her breeding as a hunting dog- and it was something we had to accept.  (But we learned to be more careful by simply being much more observant.  Every time we found a rabbit den in the yard,  we would place an upturned laundry basket over it whenever we put Ellie outside.  A lot of bunny lives were saved that way.)

Back in 2003, we were already the happy owners of a beautiful cocker spaniel named Luther, who gave us all kinds of joy –  but we knew in our hearts that Luther would be so much happier if he could have the company of another dog.  Of course,  a new and rambunctious puppy turned our happy home on its ear- but Luther demonstrated amazing patience and tolerance, and before too long the two of them were inseparable best friends. And if anything,  the presence of a lively puppy in the house gave Luther (already more than ten years old at the time) a new lease on life.

One of my dearest memories of Ellie dates back to the night when Luther’s energy suddenly began to deteriorate right before our eyes and we just knew in our hearts that it was time for us to let him go.   We placed a thick pillow in the middle of the family room floor so we could make him as comfortable as possible for his last night  – and we just laid close to him.  And Ellie was right there with us, so quiet and gentle, as though she sensed Luther’s fragility but wanted to be close to her friend.

It was a few months after Luther’s death that we were blessed with a second golden retriever named Bobbi – and suddenly Ellie was playing a very different role … the elder statesman putting up with a lively newcomer.  It could not have been easy for Ellie, because Bobbi had a much more brash, confident personality than Ellie ever had (Bobbi came from show dog stock, and you could just see it in the way she carried herself) … but Ellie managed to put up with this energetic newcomer, and they eventually settled into a very happy co-existence.   And just as Ellie had reinvigorated Luther simply by being there,  Bobbi did that for Ellie.

And have to confess that when we would walk Ellie and Bobbie in our neighborhood or at Petrifying Springs,  we felt like the luckiest people in the world,  walking the two most beautiful dogs in the world.  (And I wish I had a quarter for every time that somebody would stop to talk to us, to ask us about our two wonderful dogs, wondering if they were siblings, etc.)

We never expected to lose Bobbi before Ellie, but we did ….  and Bobbi’s last day was very much like Luther’s last day,  with Bobbi sinking into the grass and unable to so much as stand, let alone walk.  (She had been diagnosed a couple of months earlier with an enlarged heart, and we knew that it was only a matter of time before her health would begin to crash.   We were just grateful that it happened without  any apparent pain or discomfort.)  And just as she had with Luther,  Ellie stayed close to Bobbi on that last day, as though she knew that these would be the last moments they would have together.

By that afternoon,  Bobbi was gone ….  and the next few weeks were hard for all of us,  and I think especially for Ellie.  Nothing was more poignant than when we would feed her-  but instead of eating side-by-side with Bobbi,  she was on her own.  Life was easier for her, and for all of us,  and yet it felt peculiar and empty.

And then came Mabel,  from the same wonderful breeders who gave us Ellie.   By this point in time, Ellie was an elderly dog and more than a little fragile – and we almost shuddered at the thought of rattling her quiet existence with yet another puppy.   But Mabel seemed to know that she had to be really careful and cautious with Ellie,  and she never tried to play with her the way she would play with her siblings.  And as though she appreciated Mabel’s gentleness,  Ellie was amazingly tolerant in return – and I will always cherish the memories we have of these two beautiful dogs.

In our last year with Ellie,  she was almost completely deaf- and more hesitant than ever.  Many was the time that we would wonder where she had gone, only to discover that she was ‘trapped’ in the bathroom,  unwilling to nudge the door in order to leave.  So she was perfectly content just standing in the doorway, waiting for one of us to come along and rescue her.

I also remember a poignant day towards the end when I found Ellie “stranded” in the foyer behind the dog gate …. completely oblivious to the fact that the door of the gate was standing wide open.   It was a moment when I realized how hard it was getting for Ellie to navigate through the world – which made us love her all the more.

Early last summer,  the Olsens hosted one of their famous golden retriever reunions – and I found myself mightily tempted to bring Ellie back, since she was the last remaining dog in the Olsen’s first group of puppies.   Kathy eventually persuaded me that there was just no way we could put through Ellie the rigors of such a long trip- so while she and Kate traveled there,  I remained home with Ellie.   But during the reunion,  we surprised Mary Olsen with a face time call so she could get a good look at our dear, sweet Ellie.   It was not quite the same as being there,  but still a very fun surprise for Mary and her husband.   And Ellie was spared what surely would have been a tough and taxing trip.

<this is a screen shot from my phone of that face time chat- which is how Mary Olsen, the breeder, got to see Ellie>

It was one year ago today,  while I was in Decorah, IA visiting my sister Randi and her family,  that Kathy called to say that Ellie essentially could not/would not get up, no matter what Kathy did to cajole her.  It had never dawned on me that Ellie would begin to slip away from us while I was away,  and I felt so badly that Kathy had to deal with this without me.   But fortunately,  Kathy was not alone.   Her best friend Kate, who had bade farewell to her beloved Pete (one of Ellie’s brothers) not too long before that,  came over to be with Kathy and ultimately to help her with all that had to happen in those last hours of Ellie’s life.  It was fitting, in way,  in that the two of them were together when Ellie came into our lives …. and they were together as Ellie left us.

Sitting on our corner table in the living room is a beautiful photo of Ellie and Pete – brother and sister – encased in a pretty frame emblazoned with one simple word:  LOVE.   That word pretty much says it all.   And a full year after she left us,  we still love her.   And we will always be grateful for the light and grace that she brought into our lives.