[Jim.Skehill]

It's coming up to 5 months since I had to put Lizzie, my dog of 16 years, down. It hit me very hard at the time, but now I'm recovering and in the mood to write a memorial to her and what a wonderful dog she was, so here goes.

We met Lizzie in the Toronto Humane Society in January of 1995. She was a three months old and had been picked up as a stray – we always figured that she was an unwanted Christmas gift and the receiver, wittingly or unwittingly, let her get away. She was a mutt – a black lab cross with a terrier’s personality and ears that managed to stand up in defiance of all know laws of physics.
Neither my wife, Michele, or I had ever owned a dog before so the first year was difficult as we got use to one another. We were concerned about her reeking havoc in the house when we were out so we got a crate to keep her in when we went out. Unfortunately she eventually "learned the combination" and one time we got home to find her roaming around the house - worse still she got into my wife’s stash of British candies and ate most of them. Michele was very upset and saved some of the torn up wrappers as evidence of the shocking incident. We got a lock for the crate after that. For her first year Lizzie also spent nights in the crate and I recall, when being sent to her crate for the night she used to grab a mouthful of food from her bowl before entering the crate. We used to refer to her "grabbing a midnight snack".

Although she was just a mutt, when it came to the gene pool lottery Lizzie was a winner experiencing robust health for most of her life. When Michele was taking night courses I use to go down to pick her up after class. One evening I decide to walk down with Lizzie thinking the 7 mile walk would tire her out, but when I got down there and Michele emerged from the building Lizzie went crazy with joy just to see her - so much for tiring her out.
I started "Walks From Hell", walks that took at least 1 hour, when she was a puppy. Initially it was once a month but it eventually became once a week. The point was to exhaust her but it never seemed to work.

We had Lizzie 4 years when we decided to get Scamp, a Sheltie. Michele was complaining that Lizzie had become my dog and she wanted her own dog – Scamp. But actual Scamp seemed to belong to Lizzie. I think Scamp thought Lizzie was his mother – despite a complete lack of resemblance between them. Once when out walking both dogs with Michele in the park across the street a woman told me to watch out for my little Sheltie because there was a threatening-looking black dog around. She was referring to Lizzie. When it became apparent to her that that 'evil' black dog also belonged to us I’m sure she just felt like crawling away.

I’ve mentioned her terrier personality. She used to chase squirrels endlessly. In fact just saying "Squirrels" would cause her you come to attention and look around as if to say "Where? Where?" One time she actually caught and killed a squirrel. I was doing yard work out back and Lizzie and Scamp were gathered around an object in the middle of the back yard, I saw that it was a dead squirrel and I believe Lizzie had a look of remorse in her eye. I put the remains in a plastic bag and put it in the garbage can and, knowing she’d be upset, did not tell Michele about the incident for at least 5 years.

But, of course, she had endearing qualities as well. One evening I wasn't feeling well and went to bed at around 7:00 PM. Lizzie decided to have her dinner and keep me company at the same time. So she'd grab a mouthful and food from her bowl in the kitchen. Run upstairs to the bedroom where I was, crunch away on the mouthful of food until it was gone, then run back downstairs to the kitchen and repeat the process until there was no food left in her bowl.

She use to doze at my feet when I was working on my computer. I’d set up my machine to make a “bonk” sound when I shut it down, And, like Pavlov’s dog, at the sound of that “bonk” Lizzie would awake from her slumbers and trot out of the room.

I’m sure most people reading this are familiar with how attached we get to our dogs and I’m sure a lot of you know what a sad time it can be when they have to leave us (I’ve described that in a previous posting called “Lizzie’s Last Days”). But they do leave their paw prints on our hearts and we are much the better for it even long after they are gone. So thank you Lizzie for the lessons you have taught me and I look forward to seeing you again.

Jim.