If we pay close attention, our animals never stop teaching us things - even after they've passed on to the Rainbow Bridge. So it was with Diamond.
One of the best lessons this gentle giant taught me was how to play well in the sandbox. And, what better place to see this played out than at a dog obedience class/?
Day one of every dog class can be viewed as controlled chaos. The dogs themselves are excited to be in the company of other dogs - and - as the owners range from complete novice ("I've never had a dog before!") to seasoned, experienced owners - the mingling around on the floor before class starts has an element of unpredictability to it.
The fact that there are no major mishaps in that first class is testimony to the professionalism of the trainers (you hope) and, sometimes, to the quick thinking of the more experienced dog owners.
Diamond's rather dubious entrance (up on his hind legs as the trainer-in-charge) led him into the facility, was the only time when he looked more fierce than he was. He was quite accepting of the dogs and their owners and never displayed anything other than a willingness to enter into the spirit of whatever we were doing.
Once he and I had learned the basics of obedience, he was perfectly happy to abide by the rules of engagement, unless you were a mounted policeman or a Chow. We were never sure where Diamond's noticeable animosity towards these two subjects came from - Hard-wired into this dog's DNA was a profound dislike for both.
Other than that, he was a true gentleman and model canine citizen.
He was an honest dog, loyal to his humans, unfailingly kind to children and gracious with strangers. He was a polite and undemanding guest when we took him with us to stay with my in-laws up in Maine, loving nothing more than soaking up the sun, laying in the grass or sticking his nose into enticing smells in the woods just beyond the perimeters of their yard.
No matter to Diamond if he was left at home. In his younger days, he'd wait until he knew we'd left the house before making himself at home in the middle of our bed. He was quick to get off of it so he could meet us at the front door when we returned.
As he got older, he wasn't as eager to leave the comfort of our bed. He'd open one eye and check us out as we stood in the doorway before settling himself back for his nap.
He was a great cross-country ski companion. My husband devised a rope pulley that he'd tie around his waist and then attach to Diamond's collar/harness. The two of them would dash off and fly over flat trails in some of the nearby parks.
Ultimately, Diamond made us be better because of who he was. It would be years before I fully grasped the significance of all that he'd taught us. Twenty years later, he's still teaching me.
Beautiful story, beautifully told, Kathy. Thank you so much for sharing Diamond with us :)
Posted by: Barbara | 07/30/2010 at 01:24 PM
Now, I'm going to go cry...
Posted by: Kathy | 07/30/2010 at 02:21 PM