Quacker's Story- Goodbye Old Friend

Well, we had to say goodbye to a member of our family tonight. Quacker, a Labrador Retriever, left us at around 7:30 pm.

Quacker was born 10/16/1997. He was bought as a birthday present for my step dad as a duck hunting companion, since our Golden Retriever was none too interested in the job. Quacker was drug around, played with until he was exhausted. At just over 4 years old, I was the youngest. My 2 step brothers were 9 and 12. As you can imagine, we kids put him through all sorts of things. But he never once growled or tried to bite, and he never chew our possessions, etc.

Our old Golden Retriever, Farley, used to take him into the woods behind our house (this was back when we lived in Ohio). I remember one of the first times he did it, he was gone for about half an hour then we saw Farley coming barreling back to the house, looking very pleased with himself. Farley had taken the 6 month old puppy up into the woods and ditched him. We went up into the woods about a quarter of a mile where we found Quacker sitting there, howling so pitifully.

At 9 months old he was hit by a car. The driver drove off and left him for dead. My parents found him in the ditch on the side of the road with a broken hip. My parents rushed him to the nearest vet clinic, where they were told it would be extremely expensive to fix his hip, and he would be lucky to walk, and would never run again. The vet argued what kind of life would that be for a 9 month old puppy, so she strongly suggested that we put him down, and was on the verge of refusing to operate. My mother, whom was going to college to be a veterinarian at the time, took him home and put him in the bathtub, where he spent the next 10-12 weeks. He didn't like it; he was fed and watered in there, and went to the bathroom in there as well. We found it handy because we could simply turn the water on and wash it all down the drain (we took him out of course). 12 weeks later Quacker was up and running and playing fetch with us.

When he was a year old, making me 5-6, I remember how I would use him as a step stool to reach things in the cupboards. I would even call him over to where I wanted him and ask him to lay down, and he would lay there without protest as I stood on him to reach things glasses and things in the cupboards

Quacker grew up around our riding stable that we owned and operated in Ohio. He would go out on tours with us and 20 people on horse back. One day he went out on a tour with an employee of ours. The employee came back, got everyone safely off of the horses, got the horses back in the barn, etc. It was about an hour before anyone realized that Quacker was nowhere to be seen. The tour guide remembered him going out, but couldn't remember him coming back with them, but couldn't say for certain where the last saw him. We searched frantically for him, and never could find him. After a couple of weeks, we eventually gave up hope.

It was about 6 weeks later, I don't remember a lot of it, but I remember I got in the car with my parents, an we drove to the house of a woman who lived just like 2 miles down the road. My parents went up and knocked. She opened the door and started talking to them (I was still in the car), and trying to get around her legs to see who the people were, was a very familiar looking dog. My parents told me what happened. They somehow found out that this woman had stolen our dog, and went and asked her to please give it back, to which the woman replied "But my kids really love him!" My mom replied "And my kids really miss him." The woman told my parents to get off of her property, and my step dad said "Gladly. Give me my dog back." Several minutes later, my parents came back to the truck and loaded Quacker up and we took him home.

When I was 7 we moved to Ennis Montana, and when I was 8 we moved to our current home. Quacker has always been a constant around the property. Quacker started deteriorating here in the last year, and within the last couple of months it has gotten a lot worse. Quacker has been strong enough through the whole thing to get up and down on his own, sparing him the indignity of me having to pick him up and put him on his feet. I think only once have I had to lift him, and now that I think about it, I think he was just being stubborn and trying to avoid a bath. Of course, for the last couple of months I've been feeding him half and half wet, canned dog food and a puppy kibble.

Today I went out and Quacker was laying in the grass of his pen. His eyes were half closed, and I could tell that the flame was flickering in them. I gently shook him but he did not stir. I lifted him into a sitting position, and he flopped against my chest. At that moment I knew Quackers time on earth was growing short. I carried him inside, and put him in our hallway on a bed of fluffy blankets. The myself and my parents all got to say goodbye to him. I then had to go out in feed. I came in halfway from feeding and saw that his breathing was ragged. I petted him a couple of times, and when I came in half an hour later, Quacker and passed.

We buried him behind our greenhouse in some of the softest, richest green grass we have here; a place I'm sure he would have loved to lie and scratch his belly on the grass.

Quacker- gone, but never forgotten.
Lacey and the mournful crew