Monday, August 3, 2015

Riker (Feb 2007 - Aug 2nd, 2015)

Riker (Feb 2007 - Aug 2nd, 2015)


Yesterday, I made the impossible, but necessary decision to lay Riker to rest.  While away in Wyoming, his troublesome kidneys finally quit on him.  I was lucky that he hung around in time for me to fly back and get time with him.  It was even more difficult as his spirit was still strong, and he wanted nothing more than to chase balls all day as usual.

I don’t usually write things of a personal nature here, but I’ve found myself reflecting on all he brought to my life.  I’ve managed not to bawl uncontrollably like a little girl today by thinking of his  hilarious antics, and looking through the gazillions of pictures I have of him.


A prime example, he spent the last 8 years trying to bring down the rope swing in the backyard!  This epic struggle went on and on, day after day - with neither Riker nor the maple tree giving an inch.  A bard or poet is needed to document this heroic battle - I lack the skill.


He had other mortal enemies: plastic bags, wheels, anything with a motor.  Something as simple as vacuuming or running the dryer would send him into a fit of madness.

When I rescued Riker from a border-collie shelter (he was known as “Bear” back then), he was almost completely feral.  Unused to people or dogs (other than his siblings), he had anxiety attacks often.  During the drive back from the mountains of PA, I nearly lost him during a bathroom break when he had a freak-out.  Somehow I managed to coax him back into the Saturn.  We were just minutes away from home when I received my first present as a new dog dad - a big nasty dump in the back seat!

But who could be mad at this face?


The next years were spent in (sometimes nerve-wracking) attempts at socializing him with people and dogs.  The adoption center had told me he would never be able to be around dogs or small children.  Uh-huh.  Clearly they didn’t comprehend the level of my stubbornness.




I can guarantee if I had told his foster parents Riker would one day befriend a mouthy orange tabby named Karma, they would have laughed me back to my car.



Aside from his insanity (which slowly tempered over the years), he was the perfect dog.  Smart.  Crazy smart.  I remember reading training books that would suggest repeating a given trick 30-40 times a day until it stuck.  Most things Riker would have down in 3 repetitions, total. This made it tough when I adopted my second dog (Nala) and starting training.  She was also incredibly smart - but more willful by a factor of 10!

Riker and Nala would be side by side for the rest of his life.


Some of his other antics, fights with inanimate objects!




He would also lose his mind when it was time to go outside.  I needed only to put on my running shoes to send him to levels of excitement never before seen.  He would often do 360 spins in the front yard, unable to contain himself!  Nala would always lose patience at these outbursts.


Once of his greatest accomplishments was no doubt taking someone who was afraid of big dogs, and completely winning over her heart.


To this day, Joan is the only person to meet my dogs for the first time who didn't get the 5 minute barking welcome!

I could fill this blog with literally thousands of pics.  Riker was infinitely photo-genetic, if you could get him to hold still!

The 'border-collie stare'.

I guess one of the hardest things about losing him (other then the suddenness of his passing) was having him from a puppy of a few months old till now.  Not only that, he was part of the catalyst for my life change - when I started saying no to constant work and yes to new life experiences.  He was a major part of what got my out of the slump following my brother’s passing.  Being responsible for a fragile little ball of fur was forever life changing - even more so then my late cat Thunder (who was all attitude and independence).  For he first years of his life, Riker was never more then inches away.

I think that concludes today's therapy session, though I'll no doubt think of his other antics to write about.  Nala, of course, is dealing with his loss in her own way.  Starting with planting herself firmly on top of his grave.


We're trying not to let her mope to much.  Being showered with singular attention is no replacement for losing her 'big' brother.



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