Loyalty To The End

~ Joanne Eckerson Creel

To those runners whose training partner and mentor is of a four-legged breed, you will understand the pain of saying goodbye to your best friend. The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never leaves his side, the one that never proves ungrateful, is his dog.

On 4/22/02, a week after running the Boston Marathon, we brought our 10 year old chocolate lab to the vet for an exam. Until that day, there was no indication there was anything wrong with Duchess, the alpha dog and oldest of 3 generations of labs in our home. Duchess was no average dog. She had been born in Brewster on August 19, 1991, one of 10 pups on the day of Hurricane Bob. If she could survive being born in such horrific weather conditions, she could survive just about anything.

It was serendipitous that she entered the home of a Bob , a.k.a. “Eck”. But this was no average master. This was the home of an Ironman Triathlete, Harley owner, and Western States 100 mile Endurance Runner. Duchess, however, being no ordinary dog, was up to the task of being a well conditioned canine. If Eck had had a side-car on his Harley, she would have been in her glory. There were days when she would run 7 miles, from our home in Yarmouthport to Eck’s business in Harwich. She would swim in Long Pond alongside her owner after being shop dog all day, loving the attention and treats that she received from the customers. For 10 1/2 years, she was by his side 24/7.

Duchess had always been a real trooper, and never would complain about anything, as long as she was the first dog out the door and the only one to retrieve the morning paper. That was her job and her job only, as she would be rewarded with a cookie afterwards. So, it was no surprise that Duchess waited for us to finish the marathon before she let us know that she was sick. She knew as only a dog can that we would never have been able to run with a heavy heart.

We assumed that her tiredness and slowing down were merely aging. We were not prepared on 4/22 to hear the shocking and sad news that she had lymphocytic leukemia, and she had perhaps 1-2 weeks to live. We were heartbroken that we would be given only 1-2 days. Chemotherapy was not advised due to her advanced age. By Tuesday, the next day, she was laboring to walk outside, and would have to be carried into the house. She could no longer climb upstairs, so we slept with her in the living room in front of the fire.

Duchess was never one to quit. On Wednesday, with all the energy in her body, she was determined to make it over the finish line one last time, as she valiantly retrieved her last paper only hours before we had to put her down. She made it halfway up the driveway before she had to be carried, still clinging to the paper in her mouth.

I believe that our dog arranged a sunny day for the burial, knowing that she would not want her owner digging in the rain. The day following her death, it rained … just when you think you have no more tears, they come again … and again. No matter how deep her sleep, Duchess will hear us, and not all the power of death can keep her spirit from wagging a grateful tail. Here lies one who loved us and whom we loved. She was a loyal friend to the very end.