119 Years Old - So they say

August of 1998, my daughter wanted a dog.  She wanted a pedigreed dog...like her Grampa's.  But I've never been a pedigreed dog kinda person, and hoped she'd be happy with a pound puppy.  As it turned out, she helped pick out the dog. The folks at the animal shelter had dubbed her, "Rosie."  Rosie?  Are you kidding me?  When I saw this dog she did not strike me as a Rosie in any way shape or form.  She was a funny looking schnauzer mix....the mix?  Well, not sure about that, but whatever it was, she was one stinky dog!  (Perhaps, "Rosie" was a joke about how odoriferous she was.)

At any rate, the folks at the animal shelter indicated she'd been picked up as a stray, running with a dalmatian male and nursing a single puppy (the product of the two running mates.)  I never saw the puppy, but they assured me the puppy was so ugly it was cute.... it would have been an odd combination - a small, 20 lb dog bred with a big Dalmatian. The good folks at the animal shelter aged this Rosie at 2 1/2 years old.

Once home with our new friend, we had to give her a "good" name.  I selected, "Killian."  My daughter was not pleased with that name and called her all sorts of names, but nothing stuck....Killian it was and Killian it stayed.

Over the years our little stinky dog lived life to its fullest.  With acres of woods to patrol, snakes, turtles, raccoons, skunks, deer, and of course opossum at which to bark and to chase on a regular basis, she was always a happy dog.  Over the years she never, ever was sick.  Her only visits to the vet were routine preventative care and one injury, sustained when running through the woods.  Even when she was bitten by a copperhead, she went down for three hours, and then recovered.

In the last couple of years, after we moved to the old farmhouse, she began to slow down.  Eventually she lost both her hearing and her sight.  She no longer barked to alert us to tires crunching gravel on the driveway.  Like it or not, my sweet, stinky Killian was getting old. 

This afternoon, at the ripe old approximate age of 17, that is 119 in dog years, Killian passed away.  She was a good pound puppy and I'll always remember her, tongue hanging out, completely happy as she "captained" the rowboat on our fishing escapades.  Rest in Peace, Killian.  You were a good friend for the past 14 years!

My Fishing Buddy

Judy Helping Killian after Copperhead Bite

Jenn Hugging Killian

Killian, Always Camera Leary

Killian Meets Coon

Killian, Smiling for the Camera

Killian, Bored with the Camera

Killian, Ready to Catch Some Fish!