In late summer of 2003, we were living with my parents while we were
building this house. My parents
suggested that we get a dog. It would be
good to have a dog for the kids to play with and to bark if any strangers came
into the yard. Since we were going to be
living in the country, a country dog was appropriate. Border Collies are known for their
intelligence and are good with children.
Matt, Bonnie, Will, and I (and technically Luke, too, because I was pregnant)
went to Ball Play, Alabama one Saturday afternoon and bought one from someone
my aunt and uncle knew. Bonnie suggested
the name Hailey, but since we had a cousin with that name, we opted for
Caidleigh instead. She lived in a small pen
in my parents’ backyard while we completed the construction of our house, and
we brought her here when we moved in in December.
Caidleigh was a wild and playful puppy. We kept her pinned up during the day, and in
the evening when we set her free, she ran and ran and ran. We soon learned that she did much better when
she was left out to roam as she pleased.
We got used to her and she got used to us, and she grew and matured into
the most wonderful, loving, protective, obedient dog I have ever known. Every time the children ran down to their
grandparents’ house, she ran down the trail right in front of them. She always went on walks and runs with
me. She barked to announce strangers
approaching. And one time, she saved a
child. I’ll share that story at the end.
On Wednesday, July 29th, we said goodbye to our sweet
girl. On Tuesday morning when I got home
from work, Caidleigh seemed very weak.
We babied her all day. That
evening when I left for work, we couldn’t find her. I feared that she had gone away to die. The children all went searching for her. While they were searching for her, she came back
on her own. That night, they made a
pallet for her in the house. I called
often for updates, and when Matt went to bed, he told me that she could barely
lift her head and he wasn’t sure she would make it through the night. I was anxious as I drove home on Wednesday morning. Before I put my key in the door, I pressed my
face to the window pane to see if Caidleigh was alive. I saw her belly moving up and down, so I unlocked
the door and let myself in. She raised
her head to the noise, and when she saw me, her little tail started thumping
against the floor. I am so glad my baby
waited for me! Everyone in our family
loved Caidleigh, but I can’t imagine anyone loving her more than me.
I laid beside her in the floor for over an hour. Matt had called the vet and made an
appointment for 3:30. I was going to get
some rest so I could wake up in time to go with them. Just
as I was getting up to go to bed, Caidleigh had a seizure. Another seizure followed a few minutes
later. When she was about two years old,
Caidleigh contracted tick paralysis.
Fearing that might be the case again, Matt and I started combing through
her fur with our fingers feeling for ticks.
As we were searching, we discovered several lumps under her skin on her
abdomen that had not been there before. She seized again. My dad’s sister works at the vet’s
office. I called her in tears and asked
if we could bring Caidleigh in right away.
Caidleigh rode in my lap in the back seat of the van. Matt drove, and Bonnie was with us as well. My poor dog had three seizures on the
way. She never even got a normal
breathing pattern back in between seizures.
When we arrived at the vet, they were waiting for us at the door. After a quick assessment and two more
seizures, we asked the vet to put her to sleep.
Bonnie said goodbye and went out to wait in the van, and Matt and I
stayed in the room. It was quick and
painless for her, but it broke my heart into a million pieces.
That feeling of helplessness in a medical situation is unusual for
me. If a human was seizing, I know what
to do. The human term for what she had
is status epilepticus. With humans, we
intubate them and give lots of Ativan and Versed. I don’t even know what they can do for dogs,
but I know I wouldn’t have put my 12 year-old dog through it anyway. The vet said definitively that he did not
think Caidleigh had tick paralysis. In
the end, we think she probably had cancer that spread to her brain and caused
the weakness, and ultimately the seizures.
That morning was horrible, but I’m glad she didn’t suffer long.
We brought her body home and buried her in the side yard. The whole family cried off and on all day
long. My parents came by and brought
some flowers for her grave. It has been
three and a half weeks. We still miss
her fiercely. I would love to be able to
reach down and pat her on the head and say, “Good girl”. Just one last “good girl” as a final
summation of my appreciation for the twelve years of love and companionship and
protection she gave, and I know that a pat on the head and an affirming word is
all she would ever want.
In closing, I will relate a story that everyone I know has
heard. But I don’t know if it is written
down anywhere else, and it needs to be.
Caidleigh was a heroine. This is
the story of how a young sheep dog became a true member of our family.
************ In March of
2004, Bonnie was 3 ½ years old, Will was 17 months old, and Luke was 3 ½ months
old. I had just started a job at Georgia
Highlands College, and Matt worked at Rome Plow. My brother-in-law, Jonathan, was running for
the State House of Representatives. He
had a campaign event at a restaurant in Rockmart on a Thursday evening at
6:00. I dabbled in photography at the
time, and he had asked me to bring my camera to the event and snap some
photos. I hurried home from work, picked
up my kids from my mother-in-law, and came home to change clothes and grab my
camera. Everyone else in the family (who
all lived around us) had already left to go to the restaurant. I told Bonnie and Will to play on the
swingset while I changed clothes. I laid
Luke on the bed, changed my clothes, brushed my teeth, and grabbed my
camera. I picked up Luke and bolted out
the door. Bonnie was standing on the
carport. “Where’s Will?” I
exclaimed. With the most innocent eyes
and slow, southern drawl, she shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know’. My heart fell into my stomach. “Which way did he go?” I got the same casual reply. I ran toward the pond. I didn’t see a ripple. I ran toward the driveway, but there was no
trace of him. I was yelling his name
repeatedly, and I felt like I was going to faint. In complete desperation, I looked down at
Caidleigh and said firmly, “Caidleigh, where’s Will?”
Caidleigh
looked up at me, and I saw understanding in her eyes. She had received her marching orders. It was a true “Lassie” moment. She
started running down our driveway. Having
no better options at that moment and no one to call for help, I threw Luke onto
my shoulder and took off running as fast as I could behind her (He just might
have a touch of shaken baby syndrome from that day). Caidleigh turned onto the trail that led to
my in-laws’ house. Every little bit, she
turned her head to make sure I was still there.
We ran all the way to their back yard, and she made a sharp turn to the
right and ran up a hill. I
followed. Will was standing there beside
the pig pen trying to open the huge can of dried corn. I have never had such a feeling of relief and
gratitude wash over me! I just sat down
and cried. We never made it to the
campaign event. I honestly don’t know what
the outcome of that day would have been without Caidleigh and how I could have
carried on if something terrible had happened to my precious son. I can’t remember exactly how much we paid for
Caidleigh, but she was invaluable to me that day. From that moment forward, she had a permanent
place in my heart. And yes, I told this
story a lot, but such an act of intelligence and bravery deserves to be
recounted often. Bonnie even wrote this
story out and submitted it to an Ol’ Roy Dog Food essay contest, and we won three
free bags of dog food. Our dog was
officially a champion. ************
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| Our Border Collie puppy in the Fall of 2003 |
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| Bonnie and Will are going to the pumpkin patch. Luke and Caidleigh get to stay home. |
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| Bonnie and Caidleigh, Summer 2008 |
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| Rosemary and Caidleigh, January 2012 |
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| She knew every inch of these woods. They were her playground. |
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| Caidleigh had a habit of standing beside people just like this. When you would pat her on the head and acknowledge her, she would go away happy. If not, she just kept standing there! |
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| My sweet baby in her last hours of life. Almost too emotional to even capture on film, but I'm glad I did. |
