A Tribute to Little One, by Ruth

Fiona was a dog with big eyes that followed me from her cage at the Denver Dumb Friends League (one of the dog shelters in Denver). After I saw her that first time, there was no turning back – she was my dog. Her life seems to be in three main chapters: life with Cayenne, life without Cayenne in Bellingham, and life in Switzerland. The book could also be just 2 chapters: life before Darrell and life with Darrell. In both books, I am sure her favorite chapters would be life with Cayenne, life in Switzerland, and life with Darrell.

At the Dumb Friends, she had to meet Cayenne before I could take Fiona home. It was Halloween in 1997 and all of the people there were dressed in costumes and Fiona’s “case worker” was dressed as a clown with a big colorful wig. We came into the outdoor cage where she was waiting with the clown, Cayenne went up and sniffed her, she rolled over to let him - which was what the clown wanted to see happen, but the whole time Fiona was hugging the legs of the clown. She and Cayenne were inseparable…. He loved to swim, she hated it. She would stand in the water up to her knees barking for him to come back when he was out chasing a ball in the water and then would jump all over him yipping to not go away again because the water is dangerous she seemed to be telling him, she did worry a lot about her family. She kept him young, teasing him to play even when he could barely run after her – and then they would fall asleep together. They had their system in the car worked out – when we weren’t in the car, one took the passenger seat while the other took the driver’s seat, or they kept watch for us to return from the back of the car – each looking a different way, and sounding the alert for the other when they saw us. When we were in the car, they would curl up next to each other – often with Cayenne resting his head on her body. They also had their system for catching the frisbee. Cayenne was bigger (which is how she got her nickname “Little One”), but she was faster. She could catch like nobody’s business – aerials in the air weren’t uncommon… it never failed that just after she landed and got situated, Cayenne would catch up to her like a big bull… she would drop the frisbee for him to bring back and she would come back to us and wait for her next turn…

Life in Switzerland involved a lot of life with Darrell. She had a hard time being by herself after Cayenne died, and we worked it out so Darrell was able to be with her most of the time. The bike cart let her go to the store with him and on bike rides across much of Switzerland. Darrell worked from home, so she would strategically sleep where he couldn’t leave the apartment without her knowing. He made sure she got exercise every day, running with him or beside him on the bike, or skiing – whatever the season called for. She went to lectures at Eawag to learn, came to my German classes, went to our friends houses for dinner where they liked to feed her sausages, would sleep under the table at a restaurant waiting for us to finish, and became an expert at all forms of the Swiss public transportation system – trains, buses, trams, gondolas… She tolerated random children coming up to her to shower her with love and befriended people who were afraid of dogs. Her black rimmed brown oval eyes would follow you as she analyzed what was going on – the eyes, filled with love, intelligence, need… She used these to calm people down, and to wink at Darrell. She was very good at communicating her needs – it wasn’t uncommon to find her head under your armpit or your hand on her back, her ways of saying she wanted to be petted. Sometimes she wanted to be cuddled in the mornings… her special time.

Even this last week, there are so many good memories… an evening walk where she would be behind us sniffing everything then sprinting to catch up, getting her to play chase with us in a field, running in her sleep and barking during a daytime nap, chasing a cat at a friend’s house, a trip to a market where a dog jumped at her barking – she just went on as though nothing happened (I always loved that she really didn’t care about other dogs with attitudes like that, she was just content with us), stopping at the apartment on the second floor like she always did even though we live on the third floor, sleeping on the train, drinking fountain water from my cupped hands, her crying from the back of Darrell’s bike in her dog cart when I got ahead of them on my bike on Monday – life for her was always best when the three of us were together, a Friday evening bike ride where I met Darrell halfway and my first sighting of them was her running down the hill to where I was taking pictures of sheep in a field – the sheep came to investigate her – but she didn’t bother with them, on that same bike ride - a little boy walking on the sidewalk seeing a dog in the cart and a big smile breaking out on his face as he watched her pass, brushing her after a bath and how clean she smelled, keeping her routine of following me into the bathroom when I showered – she took her position curled up under the sink…

We knew she was old, about 14 years, but conversations with people always included disbelief at her age. She just didn’t seem to be 14, not even to us. Her death was quick. I left for work and didn’t know anything was wrong, she seemed fine on her late morning bike ride with Darrell doing chores at the store and library. She collapsed a few hours later from a cancer we didn’t know she had and was dead within hours. We were both with her when she died. We know she had a good life and the thoughts of her with Cayenne now are comforting… but we did both lose one of our best friends that we weren’t ready to lose yet. Rest in peace Little One.  With all of our love.