A Tribute To Rosey in Honor of her Birthday, January 12th: RIP Sweet Girl

reflections on motherhood, fifteen years in the making
by Jessica Vandett

it was a chilly january morning in greenville, south carolina. the night before i watched as an anxious and increasingly uncomfortable abbey alternated between pacing and panting, the enormity of her swollen belly making it all but impossible to walk. few things are as baffling as a pregnant basset hound, which both defies physics and amuses with its aesthetic absurdity. but she was beautiful. tawny brown fur the color of honey, ears like the softest velvet. her long, broad body somehow balanced on squat, turned-out legs. belly taught against the contractions of labor. i tried in vain to stay awake with her for the birth, but in the end she chose to retreat to a warm corner of our small, straw-filled barn, where i left her to labor in the wee hours of the morning, just as a soft snow began to fall.

and then there were eight. eight squirmy bundles of furry cuteness in a warm pile around their beaming mother (yes, dogs can beam, i assure you, i have seen it). i stood with tears in my eyes and gushing praises to abbey as i took in the scene. she had chosen her corner of the barn for the birth and had delivered without help through the wee hours of the morning while i slept. as my attention shifted from abbey to the mountain of puppies, my heart skipped a beat and in an instant my life changed forever.

atop the wiggling mound of brown lay, or rather, sprawled what could have passed for a tiny cow. mostly black and white with just a little brown, she looked holstein over basset-beagle. clearly a force to be reckoned with - she was very obviously the born leader, making certain the others in the litter knew who was boss. yipping already in that tiny puppy voice, she made her way across her brothers and sisters to nurse, disregarding everything and everyone in her path. while i had no plans to keep any of the puppies from the litter, something about "the little cow" stole my heart and there was no going back.

and so there was rosey.

that chilly, snow-covered morning was fifteen years ago today. when i think back over the journey rosey and i made together, i smile, i laugh, i cry. they say people who do not have dogs cannot understand the incredible and impenetrable bond formed between pet and owner. i agree, because for me it is just as that between mother and child. i can think of no one and no thing i have loved more deeply and completely in my life. rosey was the relationship I had the longest, who I cared for the deepest, who I loved the most. she is not my pet, she is my CHILD, she is part of ME. we're a package deal, and always have been.

when she was still a newborn puppy, i loved to lay back on the couch and let her sleep on my chest. she lay just as a newborn infant does, nestled against the beating of my heart, the warm rhythm of my breaths. from day one we were simply inseparable. something in our personalities clicked as though we were old friends. i firmly believe she has been in my life before, somehow, somewhere.

she was an endless source of amusement - the bossiest, sassiest puppy you have ever seen! she ruled her siblings with an iron fist. i remember having a large feeding bowl that had a water reservoir in the bottom with a small bowl for drinking, and was topped by a regular kibble bowl. as the puppies were weaning, they would scramble to eat and rosey would climb up and over them and then lay across the kibble! this was definitely an omen of things to come - she has never been known to skip a meal! she was the funniest little thing ever - such a personality, from the minute she was born. stubborn, demanding, bossy, and overbearing, yet sweet and cuddly and loving. she turned me into jello in an instant with a look from those big brown eyes. we just melted into each other.

as she got older, her personality grew even stronger and more defined. i'll admit she came by it honestly, but that dog was never able to march to the beat of the status quo, never followed the well-worn path. she blazes her own trail, makes her own music, and lets no one stand in her way. fearful of nothing, she was an endless explorer, losing all other senses when her nose got to working. unceasingly curious, she listened to you talk, sing, or read, watched tv and movies, and seemed to fret for the ability to put into words the thoughts that fill that precious head that smelled like maple-roasted peanuts when she slept.

i can remember being sick or injured and watching her brow furrow with concern as she curled up beside me, careful not to disturb, but insistent upon comforting. dogs have a sixth sense like that - be it physical or emotional pain, they are bothered and quick to want to make it better. there were times when i was at what i felt like was my absolute emotional bottom, when she laid her head on my knee and let out a small, soft sigh, looking up with those same big brown eyes, love shining as deep and true as is possible. crying into the ruff of a dog's neck is some of the best, if not THE best, therapy available.

for years i sang to her as she lay with me - to the tune of "you are my sunshine," i sang "you are my rosey," and despite the fact i am not exactly known for my beautiful singing voice, those big brown eyes would go soft and quiet, much like an infant hearing a mother's lullaby. i have sung this through tears and smiles, when she was sleeping, when she was sick. for the rest of my life i will not be able to hear that melody without thinking of her.

other reminders of her will remain long after she has gone. i don't think anyone who has known rosey will be able to look at a piece of sliced cheese without thinking of her. no matter how dead asleep she could be, she has supersonic, highly-tuned in radar ears for the sound of a kraft single being unwrapped. no matter where she was when you first reached for the cheese, you can be assured she will be at your feet by the time you've opened it. cheese seems to be like crack for her - you can't say the word without her princess lea ears popping out; she even knows the word for cheese in multiple languages and can spell it!

of course cheese is just her favorite of her many culinary likings - basically a lover of all things food. some of her likes and dislikes were somewhat odd - for example, she was a BIG fan of strawberries and strawberry-flavored foods. for many years she enjoyed strawberry cake of some kind for her birthday. few things are as cute as a hound dog with whipped cream or cake frosting on her snout!

ever the professional couch-potato, she has never been known for her activity level. but surprisingly, she has had some pretty spry moments. for example, when we were living in connecticut, i was a member of a hiking club and took her along for most of my trips. the other members of the club quickly took a liking to her and jokingly referred to her as the "nepalese climbing goat" because of her uncanny ability to climb. the dog defied many laws of physics just to get around, but can cling to the side of a mountain like nobody's business!

she enjoyed hiking and backpacking throughout new england and the southeast. she also wandered the beaches of many shores from cape cod and the connecticut shore to the southeast atlantic and gulf coasts. she is an accomplished first mate and while she does NOT enjoy swimming or anything involving water (more on that later), she enjoys sailing as much as her mother - and looking rather stylish in her west marine doggie vest, if i do say so myself.

she has been a dinosaur, a policedog, a puppy-parrothead, and numerous other halloween characters. sometimes tolerating my dressing her up just for kicks and giggles, but you can be assured i ALWAYS got "the look." rosey doesn't mess around! she traveled miles and miles and miles on seemingly endless roadtrips, gradually giving her the most amazing set of dog "car legs" i have ever seen! swerve around a corner or do donuts in a parking lot, she didn't miss a beat. but if it was raining, forget about it - the princess would exercise super-canine abilities to hold her pee just to avoid getting her precious paws wet.

she spoke only when spoken to, but only after the sneezes 33,000 times in an attempt to avoid barking. she loved eating her feet - the only thing she enjoyed snacking on more than cheese. she could smell RANK when having gone too long without a bath. she didn’t like hyper dogs. she was BOSSY! she loved to walk with my grandfather from his house up to get the paper – he used to cll her rosey o’grady.

she never forgave me for leaving her for the summer i had to be at yale. she always knew when I was coming home and was always waiting anxiously at the door. she snored. as she's got older, she's got gassy. she loved running at mcrae meadows. she bounced like a tightly-wound slinky for grandpa ed. she peed on your bed if you upset her, glaring smugly at you if you caught her.

she drank from a water bottle, a talent bestowed by granny pete. she is a registered american kennel club canine good citizen. she has scared me on more than one occasion when she was sick. she has cared for me on every occasion when i have been sick or sad. she was more than i could ever say in this blog, even if i let myself keep typing and typing and typing - and believe me, i could.

she is my greatest accomplishment, my greatest love. a huge part of who i am, my ever-faithful sidekick, trotting alongside me no matter what this strange journey has brought us and where it has taken us.

she is rosey. she is my daughter. and today is her birthday. number 15. And my very first one without her. rosey took her leave this past november, a lady until the final curtain.