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He was just a brown dog…but one who had that special ability to bring joy to the hearts of all whose path he crossed. For those who judge a dog by their titles, he had earned a few in his time: Bench Champion. A month after arriving in California I sent him off (I had just had a total knee replacement the week before) to his first west coast shows, the three Summerfest shows in Ventura, with handler Peter Gaeta (now an AKC field rep), where he went BW all three days to finish. When Peter brought him home that Sunday night he said, “I bring you back a Champion”. Thank you Peter.
Master Hunter. When I met Carol Kachelmeyer and ran him for her to evaluate, her comment was that “this dog deserves to be a Master Hunter”. Later, she would tell me that he was too special to be put out in the kennels with the other dogs and that she and her husband had made him a part of their household while he was with them. Thank you Carol and Jerry.
Ranger awarded the ACC's Chesapine Bench and Field
Trophy Working Dog Qualified. He was my constant hunting companion be it upland game or waterfowl. On so many mornings we went to the lake during duck season where he would not only bring back my birds but, on several occasions, was asked by other hunters to retrieve their birds after their own dogs were unable or unwilling to find them. After we found out that he had cancer Mary Ellen Mazzola brought some ducks up to Prado and Carol set up some marks for “her friend” so he could do some retrieves – the one activity that he truly lived for. He was so happy on that afternoon. Thank you all for that special memory. Flyball Dog Champion. Ranger loved his “off-season” sport. He was never a good “practice” dog but he was a “game day” player – most of the time! He would try everyone’s patience at times but then he would go out and carry the team on his shoulders when they needed him most. At the height of his “part-time” career he was the number three flyball Chesapeake in North America.
Canine Good Citizen. Joella often referred to him as “Switzerland”, never giving or taking offense. He was always there at Thursday night play to make an uncertain newcomer feel comfortable. He would traverse the yard, usually carrying two or three tennis balls in his mouth, and visit all of the other owners – never allowing them to remove a ball from his mouth, that was for me alone to do. Registered Therapy Dog. He had a special understanding of people. He could “read” a person’s needs and adapted to them instantly. On one therapy visit we entered a room and the woman inside immediately turned her wheelchair away from us and went to her bed. He walked over and placed himself alongside her wheelchair and laid his head upon her bed, his tail wagging ever so slowly. A few minutes passed and we watched as the woman placed her hand upon his head and gently began petting him. The facility director told me that she had not responded to any other person or animal in all of years she had been there. More recently, a friend of ours suffered a stroke and we went to visit him at the convalescent facility. Upon entering the room he walked over to Skip and determined which arm was not working. He then placed his head under that arm and made him use that hand to pet him. He had a joy of life that was unbounded. He would go into the yard and toss a ball, Kong or other toy into the air and then leap into the air after it, turning this way and that, on two legs and four, simply enjoying the moment and bringing a smile to the faces of all who watched him. Joella named it the “Ranger Ballet”. When we played and he was about to do something that would bring a smile to my face, he had a way of turning his head over his shoulder and a special gleam would appear in his eyes. In the evenings he would lie next to me on the sofa, his head in my lap and, occasionally, would give me a nudge to get up and make some popcorn – his favorite human treat! At night, he would lay next to me in bed, never moving, until I awoke in the morning. I will miss our special times together playing, walking the fields looking for pheasant, sitting in a blind on a perfect morning, or sharing a donut on the tailgate following a hunt. I’ve had dogs since I was seven, almost 46 years, and have never known another like him – nor, I suspect, will I ever again. This world was a better place with him in it and my life was immeasurably enriched because of his being here. In trying to find the appropriate words to convey his exceptional nature to those who never had the good fortune to be touched by his spirit, I remembered a scene from the second Star Trek movie, The Wrath of Kahn, where, in delivering his eulogy for Spock, Kirk said, “Of my friend I can only say this…Of all the souls that I have encountered in my travels, his was the most...human”. Now you can romp in the Elysium Fields without pain or infirmity, chasing pheasant and ducks to your heart’s content. Thank you for sharing your life with me. Until we are reunited at the Bridge...Rest in Peace my dear friend. Yes, he was just a brown dog…but he was the personification of all of the very best that that great heritage conveys. In Loving Memory of Ranger
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copyrighted ©1990-2006, by Mark Joseph Walsh.