by Mark Bernard
Dear friends,
Our Sheltie, Murphy, passed away this last Saturday after a brief illness. While it has been difficult to adjust to the sudden loss of an integral part of our family, we can't help but be thankful we had and enjoyed Murphy as long as we did. Rather than dwell on her unfortunate death, we'd rather share some of what made her so special to us.
Murphy's personality just lent itself to having a good time no matter where she was. She loved being the center of attention and qualified as a real live party animal. We got her as a puppy near Kenyon in September of '91. When we went to pick her up, we were warned by Dave Hjermstad, a friend and Sheltie breeder, that she might get carsick. We hit a deer on the way home and had to tie the hood of the car down but Murphy rode like a trooper in Jo's lap right off the bat, sleeping most of the way. Murphy was named after the Murphy Brown character on the TV show. The name fit: both were funny, independent females. While the potty training wasn't always pleasant, she caught on quickly to the phrase "Wanna go outside, Murphy?" and rarely, unless we'd left her too long, was there ever an accident in the house. '91 was also the year of the Halloween blizzard. Our power was off for about 3 days so we listened to 'CCO on a little transistor radio, melted snow and ice for the sheep's water and played with Murphy. She definitely kept us from going stark raving mad and provided hours of laughter an entertainment. The little puppy would play like crazy for nearly an hour, beating up on old socks, squeaking her toys and nipping, growling and pouncing on anything that moved under the blanket. Then, like a clock winding down, she'd crash for an hour, wake up and it would start all over again. She learned how to work her appearance to it's fullest advantage early on, perfecting her ability to beg morsels and could make big softies of big, tough guys like Dan Boettger at the New Year's Eve parties we used to throw. Murphy began going into work at Mark's office in the winter months but wasn't always friendly to everyone. However, Murph could be bought as David Swenson soon discovered. At first she wasn't friendly towards him but after she determined he had treats, she was his best buddy. When he'd come in and sit down, it wasn't unusal for her to jump up on the couch and stick her nose in his jacket pocket to see if David had brought her treats. Midge Boettger gave her some obedience lessons which kept her from being totally out of control but she learned how to use selective hearing when she didn't want to come in when called. As mad as it would make the one who was calling her to come inside after going potty at night, it was hard for the other to keep from laughing as you watched Murph dawdling her way to the house, sniffing the breeze, checking the bushes for kitties, or heard her barking loudly enough to wake the dead at the moon or passing traffic, generally seeing how long she could string her outside time along. As cute as she was, you couldn't stay mad at her long. Murphy travelled with us to many of the national sheep shows we attended over the past decade. There was no better companion in the pickup. Once she knew we were underway, immediately she'd plop her head on your lap and sleep there until the next stop. Murph was glad to see everyone and made friends all over the country. The motel management people would fuss over her and many gave Murphy treats over the years. It was never a problem to find someone to take her for a walk as we were readying sheep for a show. Fellow shepherd's kids were always off with her on an adventure somewhere. We taught Murphy several tricks. She could catch dog biscuits off her nose, "smile" (bare her teeth) on command, "sing" (howl), look out the window & roll over. Her knowledge of the English language was better than some people we know. If you wanted to get Murph fired up, all you had to do was say "Kitty?" and immediately she'd begin to growl & tear around frantically looking for one to chase as she disliked cats with a passion. I suspect the feeling was mutual. Other words & phrases she knew included "crumbs", "treat", "bug", "brush", "milk & egg", "kisses" "c'mon up" and "Where's Jo?". She was fun to tease. All one had to do was blow on her and she'd show her teeth then try to get as far away as possible. Ringing the doorbell, as our late friend Ron O'brien loved to do, would send her into an instant barking frenzy and he'd laugh hysterically. She'd also bark when she heard a doorbell on TV, something we didn't figure out at first but once we did, found great humor in it. And, as a watchdog, nothing got by her. If you walked by on the road, rode a bike, had a loud motorcycle or car, drove too slowly, honked the horn a mile away, or if the neighbors were target practicing (or sneezed) she would bark. And sometimes, she would just bark for the sheer joy of hearing herself bark. Am sure the neighbors below the hill who always go to bed early won't miss that part but know we sure will.
Even though Murphy wasn't a perfect show type Sheltie, she was very photogenic and would seemingly mug for the camera on any chance she got, transferring her almost whimsical face & personality onto paper. Taking the Christmas pictures was always an adventure: Murphy hated the little costumes we dreamt up for her to wear and would try her best to get them off or wear them cockeyed but when the camera came out, she became a ham, posing as if it were all in another days work. Fortunately, we were lucky that Murphy went through a real photo shoot last October at a local photgrapher's studio. Along with the Christmas pictures & those taken by friends & relatives over the years, we have many excellent pictures from that session including the one included here below the text. Special thank you to Denny Prescher for scanning it in: Murphy would've been proud! :-)
Could go on and on with more "Murphy Stories" about skunks, her nicknames, nearly giving Roger Williams a 2nd heart attack, etc., but will stop here. The barking and carrying on when one of us leaves has ended & the house is strangely quiet at night. No longer is seen the little head popping up in the screen door to greet us upon arriving home and along with it, the ensuing happy little dog singing has ceased to be heard. There have been many tears shed and memories shared these past several days. These tears too shall cease, but the memories of this small but fine dog will live on in our hearts and minds for the rest of our days. She is in God's care now as we all hope to be someday.
Mark & Jo Bernard
Murphy
August 1, 1991 - June 30, 2001