Life With Big Dog Bentley
2/3/96 - 10/30/07

Some little girls grow up wanting the fairy tale wedding and a houseful of children. I was not that child. Instead, as if I had been born to Noah himself, I wished for animals. The more the better. In addition to the family dogs, stray cats, abandoned baby squirrels we fed with medicine droppers, one extremely tolerant pony and frequently multiplying pet rabbits that populated our back yard, each year I asked Santa for some new type of exotic critter to adore. Since Mr. Clause never really came through with the monkey or the pet raccoon (my parents are still thankful), on my 30th birthday, I gave myself the gift of a baby panda bear. (OK, he was actually an Old English Sheepdog puppy, but from a distance, one could be easily confused.)

I had to be interviewed and selected from a group of other prospective parents for this adorable bundle of fur. No kidding! Me and 10 other people were lined up like cattle in hopes of earning the affections and trust of a shaggy puppy and his breeders. You see, this dog was unique from the start. He came from a championship litter of 13 pups. William Shattner (yes - I do mean Captain Kirk....or Denny Crane if you are a Boston Legal fan) took all 12 of his brothers and sisters to a farm in Tennessee. Turns out some people actually have sheepdogs for herding!

The breeders kept this one puppy as a show dog and quickly became attached to him, but a small hernia dashed their hopes for his ranks of canine championships. It became too much for them to keep a 3 month old pet and a 6 month old child at the same time, in the same house. Since there are very specific laws about child abandonment, the puppy drew the short straw. They ran an ad and decided to interview for the perfect home for the dog.

Two weeks later, all of us hopeful adoptive parents gathered in the breeders' back yard to compete for one little puppy. Lucky for me, dogs can sense sucker from a mile away. That puppy took less than 10 seconds to sniff out the competition before he charged at me in full speed. He suddenly jumped up, putting all four of his muddy little feet on my new white sweater, knocking me flat on my back. (I didn't really like that sweater any way....) That was good enough for the breeders. They said if I could handle a sudden fall due to a little sheepdog excitement and a some unexpected dirt now and then, I was perfect for the job.

It was love at first site for both of us.

For 11 years, 4 months and 29 days, my Old English Sheepdog never left my side (or my lap) if it was an option. I called him Bentley because even at three months, it looked like he might grow to be as large as a english luxury car. (So I named him after one.) Once he hit 85 pounds, I upgraded him to 'Big Dog Bentley'. He seemed to like it. And it fit him for sure. He could eat food off of the table while I was not looking without straining to lift his neck and when he thought it was time for me to get out of bed and take him for a walk in the mornings, he could easily put his massive head and wet nose right on my pillow, in my face, while standing on the floor beside the bed. (As if the barking was not enough of an alarm.)

He was my very best friend for many years. I know that sounds odd because how can humans and canines really be friends, right? Well, the truth is that he knew me better than most for quite some time. And we usually understood how to communicate with each other. Somehow, he knew the difference between the words 'walk' and 'ride'. (These were both VERY popular words in our house!) He knew that I was not kidding when I said it was 'still bedtime' before sunrise on the weekends, and that when I told him to go to his room (yes - he actually had his own room), it was not a topic for negotiation. Although I took him with me on most all vacation and weekend trips, he knew that the black suitcase on wheels meant he did not get to go. If you don't think dogs know how to pout, you are wrong.

Since we travelled so well together, I became an expert in pet-friendly accommodations. (I usually drove and he took great pleasure in greeting neighboring cars at stop lights and filling the entire back seat of the convertible with nose paint and happy dog drool.) I think the Westin Hotels were his favorite because of their Heavenly Dog Beds and many outdoor fountains. We both loved sunsets at the end of the dock. I'm not sure how he knew which days it was OK to swim and which days he needed to sit right beside me to help shake off the stress of the day. (There is nothing like a pair of big brown sheepdogs eyes and a titled head to help you put life in perspective.)

About those eyes and that shaggy head. I once considered making him a little sign that he could wear when we walked that said: 'Yes, I am just like the dog in the Shaggy DA..........Yes, I do have eyes...........No, I can't really see, so please don't get right in my face and scare me'. But, he had already volunteered to wear picket signs during my first election campaign, so I thought that was plenty of signage for one dog. (I think he was probably the real reason that I won!)

Since I didn't have any sheep for him to herd, Bentley was very happy to go with me to work and to visit clients as often as possible. He gladly agreed to co-star in a TV commercial with a miniature grey hound puppy and he took tremendous pride in his ability to guard my office door from intruders by making visitors literally step over him to get in to see me.

Seven weeks ago, we made yet another visit to the vet. (We'd been there many times before for ear infections from too much lake water and swimming on sunny afternoons.) I thought the sudden limp and small knot on his leg were due to a fall. He had grown to be quite clumsy in his old age. I expected we might come home in a cast and another big white collar.

Instead, we heard words like compromised bone integrity, aggressive cancer and we learned of a tumor which could not be removed. Osteosarcoma has no cure. It is an extremely mean and painful cancer and it left us with very little time. So, over the past 49 days, we tried to adjust to a new life which we were told was numbered in just 3-10 weeks.

Although the cancer and the tumor, which grew in size almost daily, rapidly caused him severe pain and loss of mobility, Bentley tried his very best to be the same great protector, confident and friend. And I grew to adore and spoil him even more than before. Somehow, even through the haze of pain pills and a leg which as too painful to use, he still loved completely and intently and asked only for my affections in return.

Yesterday, Big Dog and I had ice cream for breakfast. That was his very favorite food. It was also our last our last meal together. We then made our final visit to see Dr. Donna Warren and the very kind folks at LakeCross Veterinary Hospital.

If all dogs do go to heaven, today is good day for him. Maybe not so good for the sheep and squirrels there, but a really good day for a Big Dog named Bentley.

Sue Medlin