She's gone....
Yesterday, in the early morning, Amber passed away peacefully in her sleep. Amber was the friend I've had the longest (not counting my sister), as I got her right before I turned nine. She was always my dog, and our bond was insanely tight. She would do anything, and I mean anything I asked her to, even if she was unsure about it.
We got her from the Animal Shelter in Kodiak. She had been running feral in Larsen Bay (a small, remote village on the Island - only accessible by sea and air) with a pack of other dogs. The dogs were caught, and the ones that were potentially adoptable were sent to the shelter. Amber was the second to last to be adopted, but I'm glad no one else took her. She was incredibly shy at the time, for she was fearful around the other dogs, and she had no self confidence to speak of.
We ended up picking her for the reason others passed her by. My mom had been scared of dogs as a child, and still wasn't a big fan of them, whereas my dad and I were (Amelia liked cats more). Seeing as Amber was the only dog not jumping up and down at the fence, we asked if we could see her. They brought her in and we instantly loved her. (another plus - she didn't like to bark! In the entire time she was part of our lives, we heard her bark less than 20 times, but when she did, it was really impressive! She would then look kinda guilty like "I'm sorry, it was just SOOO exciting!"
She was timid, yes, but very sweet. She was the perfect first dog - having a submissive dog the first time around, while the owners are still learning, is a really good thing. Unfortunately, we discovered that she was so submissive because she had been abused. She had been hit with newspapers, was timid around most men, and was terrified of the bathroom!
Through much love, and lots of obedience training (to build her confidence, she was already naturally well behaved), her true self was able to shine. And she was such a clown.
Amber would put a smile on anyone's face! We figured she was largely Chesapeake bay retriever, and not just because of her looks, but because she would do "the Chesy smile" and "the Chesy wiggle". Whenever she was happy (like we came home or something) she would show her front teeth, crinkling her nose. We always had to explin that she wasn't growling, that was a smile, to all our guests; they would all quickly get over it, for she was sooo sweet and loving - not to mention, she was wiggling her body so much from side to side, her tail going nuts, that it was obvious she was happy.
Over the lifetime, we both learned what the other wanted and needed. I could pick up on the most subtle clues from her, and she from me. She knew about 70 different tricks - most on voice and hand commands, and some on whistles. She knew everything from the basics - sit and come - to much more complex tricks - such as sneezing on command (very cute!) and "limping" on three legs.
A few years ago, she passed both the Therapy Dogs International test, and the American Kennel Club Canine Good Citizen test. Sadly, due to a really stupid paperwork reason, she wasn't accepted as a therapy dog. But you know what? I was OK with that, for she had come so, so far from what she was like when we got her.
I miss her terribly. I think I've absolutely run out of tears. My mom came to the college yesterday, after my classes, and told me. I would have fallen to the ground if she hadn't caught me. I basically cried non-stop for five hours, and then began again when I saw Amber's body.
Sunday morning, she had been happily playing with other dogs at the sitter's (my mom and dad came over to visit Amelia and I at college for a weekend.) However, later on she seemed tired, so they deiced to walk her home, for my parents would be home not long after that. She was tired, but still greeted my mom and dad at the door in her usual way - all smiles and wiggles.
By that night, she didn't want to stand. She actually fell over in the yard and my dad carried her inside. She didn't seem to be in any kind of pain at all - no obvious injuries, her abdomen was soft - but my parents knew what must be happening. They let the dogs sleep in their room that night, which they never get to do. They wrapped Amber in one of my blankets (which I'm glad they did) and stayed up with her. At one point, my mom put a heat pack on her tummy to help keep her warm, for her limbs were already loosing heat; she thumped her tail once at that. Around midnight or so, she fell asleep and started to dream (she made very characteristic sounds when dreaming, and very cute ones too.) However, they couldn't wake her after that. After a couple hours, they moved her out the living room, so that they could possibly get a couple hours of sleep, as they knew they needed to tell me the next day. When they got up early Monday morning, she was gone.
They did exactly what I would have done myself, for which I'm grateful. She wasn't in any pain at all, she just ran out of energy. She was 12 1/2.
We got her from the Animal Shelter in Kodiak. She had been running feral in Larsen Bay (a small, remote village on the Island - only accessible by sea and air) with a pack of other dogs. The dogs were caught, and the ones that were potentially adoptable were sent to the shelter. Amber was the second to last to be adopted, but I'm glad no one else took her. She was incredibly shy at the time, for she was fearful around the other dogs, and she had no self confidence to speak of.
We ended up picking her for the reason others passed her by. My mom had been scared of dogs as a child, and still wasn't a big fan of them, whereas my dad and I were (Amelia liked cats more). Seeing as Amber was the only dog not jumping up and down at the fence, we asked if we could see her. They brought her in and we instantly loved her. (another plus - she didn't like to bark! In the entire time she was part of our lives, we heard her bark less than 20 times, but when she did, it was really impressive! She would then look kinda guilty like "I'm sorry, it was just SOOO exciting!"
She was timid, yes, but very sweet. She was the perfect first dog - having a submissive dog the first time around, while the owners are still learning, is a really good thing. Unfortunately, we discovered that she was so submissive because she had been abused. She had been hit with newspapers, was timid around most men, and was terrified of the bathroom!
Through much love, and lots of obedience training (to build her confidence, she was already naturally well behaved), her true self was able to shine. And she was such a clown.
Amber would put a smile on anyone's face! We figured she was largely Chesapeake bay retriever, and not just because of her looks, but because she would do "the Chesy smile" and "the Chesy wiggle". Whenever she was happy (like we came home or something) she would show her front teeth, crinkling her nose. We always had to explin that she wasn't growling, that was a smile, to all our guests; they would all quickly get over it, for she was sooo sweet and loving - not to mention, she was wiggling her body so much from side to side, her tail going nuts, that it was obvious she was happy.
Over the lifetime, we both learned what the other wanted and needed. I could pick up on the most subtle clues from her, and she from me. She knew about 70 different tricks - most on voice and hand commands, and some on whistles. She knew everything from the basics - sit and come - to much more complex tricks - such as sneezing on command (very cute!) and "limping" on three legs.
A few years ago, she passed both the Therapy Dogs International test, and the American Kennel Club Canine Good Citizen test. Sadly, due to a really stupid paperwork reason, she wasn't accepted as a therapy dog. But you know what? I was OK with that, for she had come so, so far from what she was like when we got her.
I miss her terribly. I think I've absolutely run out of tears. My mom came to the college yesterday, after my classes, and told me. I would have fallen to the ground if she hadn't caught me. I basically cried non-stop for five hours, and then began again when I saw Amber's body.
Sunday morning, she had been happily playing with other dogs at the sitter's (my mom and dad came over to visit Amelia and I at college for a weekend.) However, later on she seemed tired, so they deiced to walk her home, for my parents would be home not long after that. She was tired, but still greeted my mom and dad at the door in her usual way - all smiles and wiggles.
By that night, she didn't want to stand. She actually fell over in the yard and my dad carried her inside. She didn't seem to be in any kind of pain at all - no obvious injuries, her abdomen was soft - but my parents knew what must be happening. They let the dogs sleep in their room that night, which they never get to do. They wrapped Amber in one of my blankets (which I'm glad they did) and stayed up with her. At one point, my mom put a heat pack on her tummy to help keep her warm, for her limbs were already loosing heat; she thumped her tail once at that. Around midnight or so, she fell asleep and started to dream (she made very characteristic sounds when dreaming, and very cute ones too.) However, they couldn't wake her after that. After a couple hours, they moved her out the living room, so that they could possibly get a couple hours of sleep, as they knew they needed to tell me the next day. When they got up early Monday morning, she was gone.
They did exactly what I would have done myself, for which I'm grateful. She wasn't in any pain at all, she just ran out of energy. She was 12 1/2.