We who would choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary
than our own, live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached.
Unable to accept it's awful gaps, we still would live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only certain immortality,
never fully understanding the necessary plan.
"The Once Again Prince" by Irving Townsend
My name is Willow, and my husband, Manuel, and I have shared our home with dogs for the past 30+ years. We live in the country, and have had a variety of four-footed friends, some of which have been what I refer to as "throw-aways", dogs that people have abandoned and/or abused. They have all lived to at least the age of ten. We currently are the friends and family of "Bernie" (Border Collie, 5 yrs and a little brain damaged by former owner ), "Murphy" (Gol. Ret., approximately 14 yrs. and a "throw-away" by his owners 2 years ago, which is another story in itself), and "Jackson", (Gol. Ret., 11 weeks old). Jackson is not a replacement in our family, but an addition, to help fill the void left by our beloved Nokie. Here is Nokie's story:
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In early July of '88 I volunteered to be a puppy raiser for Canine Companions for Independence. I had my pick of puppies to choose from, and an overly large, gangling legged Golden Retriever puppy rushed me, pushing ahead of the others. I was told his name was Pinocchio, because his head hadn't seemed to catch up with his nose yet. I figured he had picked me out, so off we went to my home. |
| We went to classes every Thursday night and I followed the training manual, trying very hard to not bond with this puppy that suddenly began growing larger by leaps and bounds, in both body and love. We did puppy demos at schools, churches, shopping malls-- anyplace we could go to demonstrate a Canine Companion in training. Pinoke, as I called him at the time, was even a star in a stage play at the local theater, and was also "interviewed" on television several times. Alas, the time came to turn him back in to Canine Companions, for extensive training. By the time I had driven the 8 miles to the workshop to give him up, my car windows were fogged up from my sobbing. I prayed and asked God to give Nokie to the person who needed him, and would love him the most. |  |
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Pinoke went into advanced training, but unfortunately, he was released from the program two weeks before he was to graduate. Because I had been his foster mom, I was given the first choice of having him as my own dog. The bond that I had tried so hard not to make with him while he was in training will last forever. He became my Nokie, my constant companion. I figure that he nudged my elbow at least 10,000 times. Even now, while I sit here typing this, I expect at any moment for him to walk up to me, and lift my elbow with that big head so I will either rest my hand on him, let him outside or say.. "Oh, okay, it's time for bed". |
| When Nokie was about 7, he went back to "work" as a "Social/Therapy" dog for the Assistance Dog Institute, and we were a team that took part in a pilot program at a hospital, for effects of animals on mentally depressed people. He was also licensed to visit convalescent hospitals and acute care hospitals. He was always rambunctious when I picked up his working cape and leash, but when he knew it was time to work, he settled right down being a gentleman. |  |
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Nokie was with me through many of life's trials, ever there, watching me, nudging my elbow, or lying on the floor at my feet, always ready to look to me if I spoke or moved. He turned out to be a big fella, hitting the scales between 98 and 102 pounds. He was never a fighter, always obeying my command to "don't touch", even when he was attacked by another large dog. He was big and gentle, and would run up the stairs, and then back down after all the other dogs had entered the yard, to give a big golden "growl" and pull on the old leash to slam the gate shut. If I dropped something, I would only say, "Nokie..." and he would go pick it up and bring it to me. |
| Yesterday, we went to the beach, taking Nokie and one of our other dogs. They swam and played in the wildflowers, following exciting smells that only they were aware of. When we got back home, the dogs ran out into the field the way they always did. We turned to look at them, and Nokie was lying down, the way he usually did after he had rolled in the grass to scratch his back. I called and he didn't raise his head the way he would do immediately when he heard my voice. We ran to him calling his name, and as I dropped down to cradle him, my husband said, with incredulous wonder, "He's dead"...... |  |
I have never experienced such heart pain as I did at that moment. That big wonderful friend was gone. My husband and I sat in the middle of the field and held him and cried, feeling a loss that is not comprehensible to anyone who has never had a faithful friend who gave such unconditional love. My husband let me hold Nokie until I finally said it was time to put him next to our Ruby girl
I have always felt that Nokie was my special gift from God, sent to me at a time in my life when I needed a special friend, and friend he was.... He has crossed over the Rainbow Bridge now, and I thank God that he did not have to suffer the ravages of aches and pains that plague the aged. He was in Prime of life and spent a wonderful and happy last day with his loved ones, but oh, how we shall miss him....
| I didn't like to call you
"just" a dog. You were my friend. We went to the beach one day. I watched while you swam in the water, and then, when you were resting in a bed of bright-yellow wildflowers, I thought, "How beautiful you are." When we returned home, you ran out into the field, to lie down in the golden grassland. You didn't raise your head when I called your name. I ran to you, your eyes were opened, but not watching for me ever again. You were still beautiful, even in death. |
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http://golden-rescue.org/allabout/memorials/nokie/nokie.htm
Email: willow@senior.com
Return to Norcal GRR Memorial Page
Sunday, February 25, 2001