We only came to know Casey in the last year of her life.
Casey was total alpha, always in the lead, always protective. She was so alpha that she wasn’t much for lovey-dovey nonsense, but she loved her human with all her heart and tried to live much longer than she should have because of her devotion to him.
Nothing excited Casey more than a walk. No matter that her joints were bone-on-bone, no matter than the muscles in her back legs were atrophied and had trouble supporting her – the walk was THE thing, and the years and some of her infirmities would fall away from her as soon as she knew she was going to get a walk. She loved to dash out of her gated area and just run headlong right into the street. Although the street was relatively traffic-free, how she was never hit was just one of the miracles of her noble life. And she knew, if she played her cards right, and no other dogs were out, that she would be taken off of her leash when it was time to head home, and she relished those moments, we think, most of all.
Casey was determined. If you wanted to go one way, and she wanted to another, we all went Casey’s way. It was that or stand in the street indefinitely. She knew we were putty in her hands and would have let her walk to the moon and back had she been able. To watch her leave her penned area and run to greet all the sniffs of the day was not just a joy but a privilege.
Her spirit is majestic, lives on, and we feel blessed and honored to have known her in this life.
“A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.”
—Josh Billings (1818 – 1885)