Let me take a minute to tell you about the greatest dog in the history of dogs. Renegade Hatton. 7.14.97-3.22.10
Coming off the hard decision to quit after investing a ton of time, energy and money in Toby, a street dog we adopted with a big heart and a bigger mean streak that couldn't be broken, we took our time researching breeds, looking for the best fit for a young family with an energetic 1 1/2 year old girl who was clearly in charge. We settled on a Golden Retriever and started the search for a breeder. I have always owned pound dogs and was torn between doing what's right by saving an abandoned dog and doing what is right by bringing a dog with a great pedigree and high tolerance for hair pulling, climbing over and otherwise messing with into a house with an infant child. A few frightening moments with Toby protecting his food from a curious child made the decision easier than expected.
Our research led us to a breeder in Graymont, IL with a litter available just in time for Haley's birthday. So we hopped in the Pathfinder and headed south, having no idea what road lay ahead. An hour and 1/2 and a few wrong turns later (this is before GPS kids), we find the Roeschley farm, excited as kids on Christmas Eve. The Roeschley family meets us at the car, but not before Haley has wobbled over to the barn and found the litter of beautiful Golden puppies. It wasn't long before Haley made it clear which puppy was going home with us. The unnamed pup was drawn to Haley and danced around her, darting in and out with quick kisses on a giggling face. We had our girl and who could have known the journey we would take together the next 13 years.
Our friend Kim most accurately described Renegade when we first learned of her cancer 2 months ago, "Quietly loyal" he called her. Exactly.
Renegade had a maturity about her that was obvious as early as obedience training in some random Church hall in Riverside. Through 8 weeks of classes, Renegade was the star, mastering every command with little effort while patiently waiting for the other dogs to catch up. On graduation day, however, Renegade reminded us that she was indeed a puppy by going awol during the final off leash test, running all over the hall, surprising everyone, including a stunned instructor. The memory of that night lives in my head and to this day, making me laugh and wonder why she was messing with us that night.
Renegade's loyalty showed itself in many ways such as the subtle act of moving from my side of the bed to Teresa's each morning when I left for work, nestling at our feet under the desk when working on the computer and the fact that in all of her years, in 4 different houses, many different road trips, countless baseball, softball and soccer games and the natural instinct of the breed, she's only wandered off once to explore.
With a calm, easy going demeanor, Renegade also played the role of protector of the family. One might never see this, but her instinct to protect was intense. She carefully watched over wrestling matches with the kids, getting on to me if I got to rough, managed the playful interactions between Sedona (her best friend), Logan (a Lab pup) and Elvis (her little Cockapoo brother) to make sure nobody got hurt and every single time crazy Elvis went nuts, barking at whatever was going on outside the house, Renegade would get up, check out the situation and let us know whether or not there was anything to be alarmed by. My favorite story of Renegade, the protector, happened one summer, camping in the Michigan Dunes with my brother and his family. Late Friday night, the campsite was pitch black except for the flicker of the fire. Renegade lay at my feet. Sean and JD grab a flashlight and head to the nearby truck to get their DS games. Without hesitation, Renegade sits up and moves to the side of my chair, sits and watches the boys to the truck and back, returning to my feet upon their return. Subtle, but obvious. Likewise, on Sunday, as the adults broke camp, the kids headed off for one last romp in the dunes. As the kids go down the road, Renegade moves to the corner of the camp site and sits, watching the kids disappear around the bend. For 45 minutes, Renegade sits and watches the road, ignoring passing cars, people and other dogs. She sits and watches, waiting for her kids to come home. Once they turn the corner, Renegade takes off to greet them and escort them back to the site. It was at this moment I realized how special she was.
As Reney aged, we could see her hips starting to bother her (typical for a Golden) and it began to take a little more effort to get up after a long night sleep and she stood at the bottom of the stairs a little longer before making the slow journey upstairs. It makes to smile to think of Renegade's sad eyes looking up at me for help into the car or onto the couch, yet when we weren't around, she had no trouble hopping up on her green chair and curling up for an afternoon nap. So sly.
A pet is a companion and protector. Renegade was far more. She was magnetic and everyone was drawn to her. She gladly obliged all who wanted to meet her and worked her way into the hearts of many. (She was so loved that we got a sympathy card from the Vet's office (a busy office in a Petsmart) with personal notes about Reney from the entire staff and learned that she was listed as the Most Desired dog to groom at the groomers)
We discovered the growth in her mouth about 2 months ago and were thrilled to learn that the cancer had not spread. Unfortunately, the melanoma could not be removed without significant pain and suffering and instead of extending her life, the oncologist suggested the surgery would actually make her quality of life worse for the 6-12 months she had left with us. After the initial shock and pain of the end coming into view, we looked forward to a great summer of fun with our girl. We were told what to look for to insure we didn't selfishly ignore the signs that the pain was becoming a burden to her, pain we know she would hide from us at all cost. Almost instantly, we saw a change. Renegade had always been a very affectionate girl, but there was a different sense of urgency in her need for love. She followed us from room to room and howled at times for attention. The tumor grew rapidly and before long, she was skipping a meal a day, the pain in her mouth too much to bear, but the Dr. said 6-12 months, not 2 weeks, she must just be nervous. During the weekend of 3/19, I noticed a deep sense of sadness in her eyes and for the first time, she would turn her face away when touching the affected cheek. A call from her other mom, Meg, and a visit to the city to play with her best friend Sedona was in order and surely a cure for this sadness.
Driving to the city early that Monday morning, Reney lay on the floorboard with her head on the console between driver and passenger seats, watching me the whole ride in as I stroked her soft head, something she had never done before. When Teresa called at noon to tell me that the tumor was bleeding, my heart sank. In denial, I asked T to call the vet and see what we needed to do and as feared, the vet wanted to see her as soon as possible. It was time and as hard as this was to face, it was reality. She spent her last day doing what she loved, playing in the dog park with Sedona, Meg and Bidy. Her spirit as positive as ever. After a tearful goodbye in the city, Renegade rode home shotgun with her face resting in the dashboard, taking it all in. She knew.
The last moments were beautiful. Renegade as calm and loving as ever, head in Teresa's lap as her eyes closed for the last time. The Vet and nurse could not have been more gentle and compassionate. She was at peace.
While it was no easy task to make the decision to ease Renegade's pain, it's a decision I will never regret. She gave us too much love and too many memories to ask her to endure pain and sadness so we can selfishly avoid the pain and sadness of losing her.
Today, I still call out her name and look for her beside my bed in the morning. I miss her wagging tail greeting me when I get home each night and the gentle nudge of her cold nose on my hand, begging for me to pet her. Elvis is depressed and lies by the back door, looking for his sister all day, eating not a priority. The kids haven't known life without Renegade until now. While hard on them, I'm sure it won't be too long before they're asking for a new puppy. Reney can't be replaced, so we can only hope we get as lucky this time.
Thanks for listening to my rambling. Those who knew Renegade understand why it's hard to put into words what she meant to me and her family. She was one of a kind and enriched our lives beyond our greatest expectations. She will be missed.
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