Bo

He was born on August 29, 1995.  He died on Thursday July 17, 2008 not many days shy of his thirteen birthday.  He was the perfect dog.  He had the papers and breeding of an Elkhound, in later years the physic of a sumo wrestler, and always the soul of a saint.  He came into our lives at about the time we played host to a contingent of French visitors from a sister city in Roanoke and was named Beaucoup, thereafter ever to be know at just Bo or Bo Bo.  He was everybody’s dog.  His arrival coincided with the start-up of the winery and there are very few if any guests he did not consider his duty to meet and greet.  His last days of greeting consisted of lying in front of the handicapped accessible sign which he thought had been put up for him and thereby blocking the entrance for anyone.

Bo was always a bit weight challenged and in his younger days his response to being put on a diet was to go get a tender young groundhog or lie under a fruit tree and eat to his heart’s content.  Figs were his favorite but he never tired of apples or cider.  He was never sick or injured, quite a record for a farm dog, and was smart enough to obey all his commands in English or Spanish.

As we recognized age and its toll were inevitable, we wanted to breed him so that we could have some part of him continue with us.  He had no problem “falling in love” but the act of consummation was by artificial insemination.  Of the offspring, we kept the puppy that had the difficult start to life and were rewarded with what could be the closest clone to Bo ever.  We named him Howard Beau Johnson and call him Ho-Jo.

Bo was formerly my companion in riding my horses but to the very end he would go to the tack room while I prepared to ride and patiently wait until my return to make sure that all was right and well and a safe return was assured.  Bo attended the festival here on July 12 to hang with my sister at the guest house.  We worried how he would get back home but before we had a plan he was back at the house. She always brought him Little Caesars porterhouse and he seemed to know when I told him she was coming.  He tolerated well all other dogs but had two special friends Molly, and Sparky who would visit on occasion and would remind him of his younger and stronger days

Death can be good and he deserved and died the good one.  He was fine that morning and early afternoon.  Danny spoke to me and Shannon later and said, “I think Bo is dying”.  We sat with him for a couple of hours, told him it was Ok to leave and kept hands on.  Shannon came by to say a last good-bye.  Bo lifted his head, looked at him, and stopped breathing.

Pierre

Pierre has passed.  He was a miniature poodle, very black until his muzzle turned gray, some years ago but had the statue and mentality of a rockweiler crossed with a grizzly. He has taken many a fierce wild beast away from his domain which was his work station

He went to work at the packing house whenever Vicki showed up and stayed until she closed before coming home.  He preened and enjoyed the affection of adults but little people made him uncomfortable and he woud avoid them at all costs and try to hide from them in his little bed in the office He had been run over at least four times in his life but survived them all, credit for that goes to “Auntie Nell” the best friend and vet any one could have. About a year ago he had an occasional “spell” but would recover nicely.

He really was never our dog.  He belonged to the grandchildren, most especially, Joshua.  When they moved away from the farm, he was not happy and expressed his displeasure by trashing their apartments, running away, and ending in the dog pound more than once.

Upon return to his paradise he lived a grand and glorious life.  He was my constant companion thru the debilitating stages of cancer and chemo.  He lay at my feet in the only chair in which I could be comfortable and he would sleep only with one eye closed so that he could walk me to the restroom or refrigerator which were pretty much my range of motion for months.  He wasn’t an assist dog in the true since of the word but a psychological and spiritual guide for the healing of things broken.  Danny would fix him a special breakfast each morning and at night he would share my plate.  At the last I had to place bits of food on the white tiles because his cataracts were so bad.  Her hearing wasn’t all that good but he listened when he wanted to.

Pierre will go down in infamy as “Pee-Air”for his trick of standing on his front two legs to urinate.  Many guests from Elmo’s have spent much time photographing such an event.

He stayed in the house a lot but never slept with any one but “Aunt Cindy”.  They had a thing about sleepovers and Little Caesars filet mignons.  He could run like the wind until the great god of dogs took down the sails for the last time.