In Memory of
Abby-Normal

A Gentle Soul

   Over 13 1/2 years ago, a frightened, four-legged ball of black and tan fur arrived at the Oakland Airport. My husband, Bruce, was there to greet her. It was apparent by the condition of the kennel that she had been tossed around in the cargo section of the airplane many times during her flight from Florida.
   Although she was meant as a birthday gift for me, they bonded immediately. From then on, she was his baby. Abby, as we named her, was a beautiful purebred Airedale. She was a real sweetheart, but all puppy.
   She destroyed and/or ate everything possible in our backyard – insulation, wire, foam and carpeting from her custom-built doghouse, rocks, the wood siding of our house, and plants (we no longer have plants in the lower section of our yard). But, for some reason, she was very finicky about her dog food and could go days without eating until we found just the right one.
   Needless to say, she affectionately earned the nickname of Abby-Normal. And despite her taste for the inedible, she grew up to be a very gentle, proud dog. Bruce took her on walks everywhere, and people would stop to admire and pet her and inquire what kind of dog she was. Airedales are not a common breed of dog.
   Abby also loved rides in the car as much as taking walks. Just the mention of “go for a ride” or “go for a walk” and she would head toward her leash and get very vocal. We had better be serious, because she was not going to let up.
   Although she had a gentle nature, the watchdog instinct was always ready for action. The sound of our doorbell (or the sound of a doorbell on the TV) would send her into a barking frenzy. Her loud, deep bark warned everyone she was a force to be dealt with. What they didn’t know and couldn't see was her short, cropped tail was wagging and all she really wanted to do was sniff and lick them. Abby simply loved people.
   When our daughter, Jessica, was born, Abby stepped right into her role as protector. She would lay on or near the blanket on the floor that Jessica was on. Her motherly instincts were in queue. It’s been said that babies can “hear” inside the womb. I believe this is so, because Jessica was never afraid of Abby's bark. She had heard it before she was born.
   One of my favorite memories of Abby also showed her gentleness. We came home one day to find Abby lying on our back yard lawn, licking a small bird between her paws. We thought she had killed it. We couldn't have been more wrong. It apparently fell from a nest and she was trying to keep it alive – she wanted to be its mother. But being licked by a 60 lb. dog was a bit much for such a tiny bird. We gently removed it from Abby and placed it in a box. Its heart stopped a short while later.
   Time goes on and Jessica, now six years old, wants a puppy of her own. Bruce was not agreeable to this proposition. But we girls wore him down, and into our lives came a miniature dachshund named Chloe. She fit into the palm of Bruce's hand and was always under his feet. I guess you could say my husband had “animal magnetism.” Much to his surprise, he fell in love with her, too.
   Abby, on the other hand, now already ten years old, could not figure out why this tiny “dog” was always climbing on her, biting her, nipping her in the hind legs as she walked. It was a very humorous sight.
   And as much of a nuisance Abby thought Chloe was, she never showed any aggression. A firm nudge with her nose or gentle swat with her paw let Chloe know the games were over. Abby's big heart also allowed Chloe the privilege of lying cross her stomach or sitting on her side as she lay down. We think Chloe thought of Abby as her mother – or possibly just a big, warm, furry pillow.
   Although Chloe kept Abby feeling young, she could not prevent her from getting old. Her health had been failing for the past year, as she was now 13 1/2 years old. She had more and more frequent “senior moments.” She would get us up many times during the night. Then, sometime during the night of December 13th, she had a major stroke. She could barely walk the next morning and was visibly disoriented and confused.
   So, on December 15th, 2001, we chose to have her go over the Rainbow Bridge. It was the most difficult decision we have ever made, but our vet assured us it was the most important. She will be missed by everyone who knew her.
   This Christmas, which was Abby's favorite holiday, was a very emotional one. We left her stocking hanging over the fireplace. Many years ago she figured out how to nudge it off the hook with her nose until it fell to the floor, then hold it with her paw while she got her goodies out of it. Trouble was she could never wait for Christmas and I was always shooing her away from the fireplace.
   But it appears Abby left more than sweet memories behind. That night, Dec. 15th, we caught Chloe standing on her hind legs stretching as tall as she could to sniff the stocking she now inherited. The tradition will continue, after all.
   Goodbye, old girl. We miss you more than you will ever know.
Bruce, Terri, Jessica and Chloe

Bruce, Terri, Jessica and Chloe Fitch, Bay Point, Calif.