Breeze by Tammie Rogers

Breeze

by Tammie Rogers.........................................

My Dearest Breeze,

I want you to know how much you meant to me. I waited a long time to have my first litter of puppies. I wanted to make certain that I could do it right. Your father was the most incredible dog and the entire reason that I bred your litter was in hopes of getting you, his beautiful son. You were the singular reason. You were that special to me.

The day you and your sisters and brother were born, I knew instantly that you were the one I would keep from the litter. How? I don't know, really. But, I knew. I allowed myself the opportunity to "look around" as you and your incredibly cute siblings grew up, but I always knew it would be you. Do you know that you were so smart that I taught you to come and sit in front of me for a treat when you were just four weeks old? You got your nickname at that time, you were such a solid chunk of a pup. I actually think that I was calling you by "Chunk" before I had fully settled on your official name, Breeze. I adored you as a puppy. You were so attentive to me. You were so confident. You strutted around the kitchen like you owned the place. You were so special.

Well, as you grew up you became somewhat of a challenge. Our first times on livestock were not easy. You were a control freak at five months old. I remember that at seven months old (having only "worked" on stock once or twice before -- just "to see" what you might do), you took on a ram -- a large, robust Barbados ram with a full rack of horns. The ram thought he'd ditch out away from the little flock we were working. As if you had been doing so for years, you turned back, got around him, flipped your body in the air, took hold of his nose, and shut him down. My jaw dropped. You were fearless. But, you were also quite adamant about how you would get a job done, and, well, frankly, it wasn't always the way I wanted it done. We struggled quite a bit in the beginning. It was always about your need to take charge and my need to control you in your attempt. One day, I simply chose to accept that you were not your father, you were not your mother, and I learned to see your weaknesses as your incredible strengths.

You never let me down. You never lost your sheep. You could put sheep where ever they didn't want to go. You could break a group of wild lambs in 20 minutes without a command from me. You had an incredible talent for reading livestock, applying pressure, taking it off again, and getting the job done. It wasn't always easy to stand by and let you work, since, really, if I can be so bold as to tell you, I was really supposed to be the one in charge. But, we came to an understanding, and we got the mission accomplished.

You never let me hug you, but I knew that was just who you were. As I held you in my arms today, stroking my check against your own and burying my face in your thick, soft fur, I hugged you like I had never done before. You were not about the reward, you were about the job. I remember when you were young you would jump up on the bed when I got under the covers -- and you'd lay right there on Robert's side of the bed, next to me. Then, without any request, you would hop off as he entered the room. We would not have minded if you shared a soft spot on the bed. But, that's not who you were. But, in more recent years you would stay up on the bed and Robert would give you a massage. As you aged you not only learned to love your evening massage but, well, demand it, in the most subtle of ways. We would smile at your understated method of getting what you needed without ever being too pushy about it. Oh, Breeze, I adored you.

Today we let you go. It was the most peaceful of passings. You were ready and I am glad we made the right decision for you. It was as if you knew, when I took your big head into my arms, it was our gift to you. When you slipped away so quickly it became obvious how much you had used all the energy you had just to hang on -- as if to stay with us even though it took so much effort and energy from you. You were my darling boy. I will miss you so much.

We have laid you to rest under the willow tree that over looks the pond -- next to your sweet, sweet mother, Ellie. It is the most perfect of places on the farm, really. As Robert gently laid your body down the geese flew overhead, like they do each evening, floating on their great wingspans, then gliding down to gently break the surface of the water and come to a soft landing. Each evening I visit the pond, when I see the geese perform that daily ritual, I promise to remember you and what a good boy you were. I love you, Breeze.

In your very fond memory, I wrote this poem for you.

My Precious Breeze

Your father was the most supreme of dogs

Your mother's heart was twice her size

I planned your existence, I wanted you that much

My precious one with the coal black eyes

As a working dog your command was clear

At seven months old you turned back a burly ram

Then, you stepped into your father's magnificent paws

When you proved you could also work little lambs

More than my working partner, you were my friend

And, my friend, I am simply not very good at goodbyes