As I watch, Bella, my White German Shepherd puppy—the first dog I hadn’t rescued but bought—I can’t stop thinking of Ondine, another canine friend I lost just a year ago. Bella is very cute, sweet and funny, and as any young pup, a troublemaker; I love her dearly. One day, she’ll be a help for me. But Ondine will always have a special place in my heart.
The e-mail photo showed a shiny, ebony-black German Shepherd mix with alert antennae-like ears and brown, intelligent eyes of a deer. I fell in love with the mutt instantly. When a few years back we moved to California I had to give up my pets. Now I was ready for a new canine friend in my life. I always loved animals. I’m a very private person, so their unspoken love suits me.
When we bought a house in Redwood Shores I had a great idea. Finally we had a yard and this meant that we could have a dog again. We already had a new kitty, but a dog would make a nice addition. I persuaded myself that my husband needed one. He spent too much time sitting at work and he never exercised. Walking a dog would do the trick, especially since I couldn’t do it. But couldn’t I really?
I have Multiple Sclerosis. As my ability to walk deteriorated, I simply stopped leaving home. I suffered tortures at the mere thought of riding in a wheelchair. What if I got an assistance dog? Perhaps then I could go for a walk, with my dog. I began researching the possibilities. First disappointment—a 5-8 year wait for a specially trained canine companion. But I wanted a dog right now! So I searched the Internet and after a couple of days I found a possible candidate. Ondine was a three-year-old German Shepherd-Rottweiler mix from a shelter, currently living in a foster home in Berkeley. When a picture arrived both my husband and daughter liked the dog, and soon Ondine came to live with us. She had a Rottweiler’s brown markings on her muzzle, tan “eyebrows,” a white chest, and ears as soft as velvet to my touch.
Ondine made a big impression in our household. The evening of her arrival, mad that her foster mother had left her, she emptied her bladder releasing a gallon of urine in the middle of the master bedroom. The next morning she escaped to look for her Berkeley home but came back defeated and decided to stay.
I ordered a motorized scooter. I was so excited about the prospect of going out with Ondine that I didn’t give my previous fears another thought.
I’m a university graduate, I speak several languages, and I have traveled the world. I taught myself how to use a computer. None of these achievements made me as proud as I was that first day when I rode my scooter, Ondine at my side.
Five years passed since then. Ondine found a way into our hearts. I taught her to pick up my cane when it fell and to bring her collar, leash, and our shoes. On summer mornings she got to chose the sandals I would wear--red or blue. Sometimes she got fancy wanting to dress me in one of each and I needed to help her decide which single color to pick. Finally, we went for a walk. My “rotten sheppie,” as I called her, had found many friends in the neighborhood. Ondine’s favorites were toddlers from a company’s daycare. She sniffed them gently, making them giggle at the touch of her wet, black nose. When we met a dog Ondine was the most enthusiastic, acting as if she had never seen a canine before.
People often stopped us to chat. Many admired what a handsome dog she was. I was no longer ashamed of my scooter. At times I even forgot I wasn’t walking but sitting on a once-so-dreaded mobility device.
Ondine kept me company during the day. We both loved sunshine and spent time on the deck, Ondine sunbathing even on the hottest days. She amused herself barking at monster-like sailboats on the lagoon, terrified of an amphibian invasion. While I had lunch, Ondine crunched on her dog treats. Afternoons, I worked on the computer and Ondine took a nap close by. She loved to play tag with me. She protected me, and the house, barking furiously at strangers, growling, and looking very mean. She made me feel safe.
During the day she had been my dog but when my husband returned from work, it was the highlight of Ondine’s day. She knew not to jump on me, but now she could finally leap, prance and hop, twirl, spin and turn in a jitterbug of canine joy. Her true master was home! From then on, she wouldn’t leave his side. Eventually, no matter how tired he was, Ondine made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. She galloped across the room, dragging to him his walking shoes, chewing on them slightly, no doubt to make them more comfortable. Then she brought the leash, and if he still ignored her, she placed all the walking gear next to him and plopped down on the floor with a big sigh of “OK, I will wait, but I really need to take you for an after-dinner walk.” Her faithful brown eyes filled with unconditional love wouldn’t leave him for a moment.
Our cat was probably the only inhabitant of our household who had not taken Ondine to heart. But he had trained her well, and I often found it amusing to watch how this large dog was afraid of the medium-sized cat.
Ondine and Goldie were both jealous of one another, each constantly trying to take possession of me, to establish once and for all whom I belonged to. I dreamed that one day I could take them both for a walk--the cat riding in my scooter’s basket and Ondine walking by our side. Sadly, this was not to be.
Ondine had fulfilled her mission--she got me out of the house and my husband walking after dinner. So we forgave her an occasional stolen Danish or a piece of bread that suddenly disappeared from the table. She always was our “good girl”, our miracle worker.
The year 2006 was The Year Of The Dog, the year of love and friendship. Tragically, our beloved Ondine didn’t live to see it. She lost her short but painful battle with cancer on January 19, 2006. She had been faithful and protective of those she loved until the last day. She had never let me down. I’ll always miss her beautiful brown eyes, so trusting and so loving, her velvet ears I petted for comfort, the clicking of her feet on the hardwood floor, feeling secure when she was around, and so many other things I loved about her. Like no other dog before, she had changed my life!
