Rose came to us in the year 1997. At that time, we had Daisy. Daisy had been named after a character in a British comedy (Keeping Up Appearances) and in keeping with this theme, we named our new acquistion Rose - the leggy sister to Daisy. Rose came to us from Dr. Gray’s vetinary offices. Someone had dropped her off; the neighbour of a family who had asked her to look after the dog while they went away. They never came back and so the neighbour took her to Dr. Gray’s. Fortuitous for us since we had asked him to look out for a dog for us; someone to be a companion to Daisy. I cannot believe now, that anyone would have tried to dump her. Little did they know what an absolute treasure they had lost.
It was the summer when we acquired her and she and Daisy spent that summer romping like a couple of frisky kids. Frequently you could look out of any window and see a tumble of legs and black fur - for they were both black - rolling around having the times of their lives. Every morning, they would leap out of the front door and do a perimeter check of the property, taking the same route every day checking in on things. I don’t remember too many clashes; they seemed pretty happy in each other’s company. While it meant for a lot of big dog bodies to try to move around in our little house, we made it work. Dog hair seemed to be everywhere and I was convinced that 2 year-old Sam would cough up a fur ball at some point.
Time wore on and the girls blended seamlessly into the family routine. We had decided to put an electric fence around the property in order to dissuade the dogs from roaming and getting too close to the road. Unfortunately, during the winter of 98/99 a lot of snow fell, causing the underground wire to lose it’s ability to function effectively. Daisy, figuring this out quite quickly, became a little bolder each day and edged nearer and nearer to the road - Rose decided to hang back being a little happier to stick close to the house. Daisy didn’t stand much of a chance when the snowmobile hit her that wintry day. Hearing the machine coming, she poked her nose around the snow pile at the end of the driveway (the snow pile having obscured the snowmobile’s view of the dog) and ended up straight in it’s path. She landed 200 feet away on the opposite side of the road and died shortly thereafter. Rose was devastated. In one brief moment she went from being the happiest dog in the world, to one in mourning. Our friend Gary popped by shortly after Daisy’s demise and the first thing he said was “poor old Rose, she’s depressed”. He was right. I don’t think she ever completely got over it. She didn’t romp, she stopped her morning perimeter check, she rarely wanted to be outside and was generally subdued. We didn’t need to fix the electric fence. Rose never went near the road unless accompanying us on a walk, and other than the odd trot into the back field, rarely strayed unaccompanied.
This may have shaped the dog that we ended up with. She took on her role as house dog quite seriously. Having no desire to leave the property she made sure that the small area that she did reside in (the main room in the house) and the meagre area she patrolled, were most definitely hers. She hung out with us in the main room as another family member and looked most offended if she were banished to the entranceway when visitors were here - her body was so big that she couldn’t always be a part of the action! She sat out front of the house and barked at anything out of the ordinary, and greeted the UPS and Purolator drivers with great affection. She saved her deepest love and friendship for Gary - she totally adored him, and he her.
As the years wore on, age started to take it’s toll on her. Last summer, while taking the babies for a walk down the road, Rose almost collapsed. Granted it was a hot day, but she seemed unsteady and short of breath. Tests didn’t find much other than that she didn’t have any major illness. Dr. Gray found her to have an irregular heartbeat and told us to keep her quiet. We found this quite amusing since Rose was happiest when doing anything but moving - any more quiet, we chuckled, and she’d be dead! Still, much to her chagrin, when walk time came, we had to leave her behind and she was crushed. True she loved to be at home, but she really loved to be where we were, and if that meant following us down the road then that’s where she wanted to be. Summer turned into fall, and with it came an infected toe that couldn’t be cured by antibiotics. The toe had to come off and we panicked that her heart wouldn’t cope with the stress of it. She came through with flying colours and was like a new dog. Just before Christmas, we had the opportunity to bring into the home, a new addition. While we hadn’t planned to look for a new dog until the spring, Cassie just seemed too perfect to let go. Rose was unconvinced that this was a good idea. She was less than enthusiastic about our new acquisition and didn’t make any time to be overly friendly. While not aggressive, she certainly gave the impression that she could care less whether Cassie was there or not. Cassie, being a young puppy tried to endear herself to Rose, but toleration was about as much as Rose could muster. I don’t know whether it was Cassie’s arrival, or the fact that the twins could now get around but sometime around February, Rose looked like she was just too weary to put up with so much activity and noise. She took to sleeping under the table in the hopes that she would not be found by probing little hands or a bouncy pup. Her left hip started to give her some trouble and I think it must have been painful as she began to growl at the twins if they touched her and was short tempered with Cassie. We, however, still had the great love we’d been accustomed too despite now surrounding her with so much to dislike 
On a recent Friday this May, after watching her hobble around uncomfortably for a week or so, Greg took her to Dr. Gray’s for what would be her last visit. She loved going to visit the vet’s office. Goodness only knows why since it always involved some element of discomfort. She had her favourite people though, and I secretly think that she was thankful to them for looking after her until they nudged her into our lives. Dr. Gray reckoned that she had arthritis and perhaps hip dysplasia setting in and decided that giving her a shot of steroids into her hip, would give her a little more comfort. I don’t know whether it was the excitement of getting out, the activity, the shot itself or a combination of those things, but on the way home, Greg noticed that she didn’t seem right. When she got home, I could see that she was decidedly out of sorts especially when she opted to sleep on the other dog bed instead of her usual spot under the table. As the evening wore on, she began to pant heavily and, after looking up about side effects of steroid use in dogs, realised that this was to be expected in the short term. Some time after this started though, she began to get restless. She moved over to her other favourite spot - in front of the couch - and fidgeted the whole time she was there. We didn’t pay too much attention to it, figuring that by morning she’d be feeling more like herself. I could kick myself now. I headed off to bed but wished I had stayed with her. About 45 minutes later Greg woke me up to say she was dying. I was stunned. I came running downstairs to find her going through the last throes of death. Her heart was still beating, her breathing was slow and her eyes were distant. I hope she heard me when I held her and told her how much I loved her. I really do. Five minutes after I arrived, she was definitely gone - in body leastways.
We buried her with the help of her other love, Gary. He wrote a touching poem to her that we’ll treasure for always. It was a tough day.
Now we’re on the search for a yellow rose bush to plant over her burial spot. She’s resting pretty close to where she would sit on pleasant evenings, watching the world go by. It’s also on the route that she would travel when chasing the infamous squirrels that she protected us from. Chipmunks were ok, but squirrels were definitely evil!
I have wonderful memories of our great beast. Her love for all of us, her gentleness despite her grand size, her love of pig ears that she could only enjoy if she consumed them outside, the dance we did anytime the vacuum appeared, her pathetic bark that signaled that she’d had enough of outside and wanted in, her ability to keep track of who was who during our busy season, her affinity (and later, discomfort) for ingesting goose poop, her stinky breath, her wonderful ability at making you feel like shit when she had to be left outside if we were out for the day - she could out-perform Eeyore any day, her long loping strides when we went for a walk in the field, her constant year-round shedding, her look out post on the corner of the house when it was late and the wood stove needed filling, the way she figured that the rug was just a giant dog bed for her, her genuine excitement when she heard Gary’s voice (and to a lesser extent because he didn’t see her as much, Julian’s), and the wonderful reception we would get when we came home after being away - she bounding from around the corner of the house, tail alternately wagging and turning in circles, mouth open, eyes bright and with such a look of love and devotion and happiness you couldn’t help but smile. We shall all miss her fiercely.
Goodbye Rose. We’re so glad we had you to love.
