No time to spare

A tilt of the head from Casey on a hike with Ben and Ezra, just two years ago this week. 

                                                           "Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow             behind." 

                                                                                                 Nathaniel Hawthorne

Rescued Heart adoption narrative: Hook, line, and sinker

OK, so Cleo wasn't exactly "all smiles."

ADOPTED! 

Meet Cleo!

Cleo is about 4 1/2 years old. She is a Lab Aussie, Border Collie mix so smart is definitely her middle name. Cleo is an active, friendly girl. She loves kids, cats and people but can seem a little shy when first meeting you. Once she learns you are a good person she is your best friend. Cleo loves to play and really enjoys her two stuffed animals, a bear and elephant. She enjoys cuddles, walks and and chillin on the couch. She doesn't like swimming, vacuums and strange dogs. Cleo would prefer to be the only dog in her new home. Cleo is not an off leash kinda girl, in other words her urge to want to run and explore is stronger than her urge to listen when called. So a nice fenced yard or someone who can walk her at least once a day would be great. Cleo has nice manners and knows how to sit and shake. She sleeps in her dog bed at night and is totally potty trained. She loves car rides too. Cleo is an all around awesome girl. If you are interested in meeting or adopting Cleo you can fill out an application right here http://www.emailmeform.com/builder/form/co436Skqbd5y6l9a714dVN

Cleo is a courtesy listing. All applications and inquires will be send to Cleo's family.

As it has turned out the adoption narrative was right on the money.  And we can hardly believe that another gentle soul, much like our Casey, has stolen our hearts.

Meet Cleo

It's time we introduce Casey's Worlds visitors to our new girl Cleo, a serendipity adoption if there ever was one.  Victoria and I came across a post on Rescued Hearts that displayed a photo of this 4-year-old Border Collie mix - BC/Lab/Aussie to be exact - all smiles and sitting with a house cat by her side. The narrative essentially said that Cleo liked kids, cats, everyone she came in contact with, and practically walked on water.  We filled out an application immediately, knowing full well that she was too good to be true and that it was unlikely we'd win this lotto.

As it turned out, the owner, a new mother, was having difficulty providing Cleo with the attention she needed. A five-month-old baby and a full-time job made adoption for Cleo the best option and luckily we made the cut.  And what a special, even-tempered kid she is.  Casey would have loved her.

First impressions and hunger pangs

Year-old Casey trolling for collectibles on Bellingham Bay

Casey, aka Quantum Leap Bob, was a traumatized mess. After sorting out the paperwork that accompanied his travel crate we found that he was seven-months-old, not ten-months as we were originally told. We were also told that he had been fed Purina One, and that unfortunately was true. A plastic bag full of this low grade adult dog kibble was taped to the top of his crate. The breeder obviously spared no expense when it came to nourishment. No wonder Casey appeared malnourished. A dinner consisting of puppy kibble, supplemented with decent organic chicken, was devoured in short order. Then our new family member gave every impression to be retiring for the evening, completely sated for no doubt the first time in his life. In less than an hour though our guy awoke from a dream-state to do a faceplant in Victoria's TV tray dinner, before crashing for the night. 

As it turned out, Casey, by nature or by nuture, would never be a picky eater. And who could blame him?

An appointment with our veterinarian in the morning would be the first step in what would turn out to be a long recovery for the kid, both physically and psychologically.

A treasure found today in my device's gallery

Vic and Casey
January 15, 2017

Home

A year-old pooped hiker.

Not the best first impression, but after a quick, nonchalant piss by the back door - the only indoor accident he ever had, by the way - Casey accepted the fact that he was home. 

 Swapping the submissive role as the timid runt of a litter of seven on a farm in the middle of nowhere for the revered status as a joyful arrival with a fenced-in backyard in the Great Northwest had to be a relief for our half-starved new charge. After all, his nose was OK, in spite of getting zapped, and his new feeders were doting all over him.

Cautiously at first, Casey eventually devoured his first meal under his new roof. He was obviously going to be an excellent eater. How long we wondered had he been settling for the leavings of six siblings.

Vic and I noticed right away that Casey appeared to be emaciated, barely twenty pounds. And he was seven months old instead of ten. His paperwork clearly indicated that his birthday was December 7, 2007. Obviously Casey (Bob) had not been the pick of the litter. And who wanted to deal with a fearful, timid Border Collie in a farming community. 

But things were looking up. We'd see to it.

The next chapter in our life was about to begin so it was crucial that Casey's introduction to the leader of our pack Victoria went without a hitch.  The plan: Vic would arrive at home shortly after I got our boy settled.  Treats on the front porch for the meet-and-greet. CharlIe Bears are usually a sure thing.

"Mom" passed through the house and approached a bewildered Casey at the backdoor threshold with an outstretched hand.  A soothing, irresistible, almost lyrical "Hi, little guy" prefaced her Charlie Bear bribe as Casey cautiously went for the offering.

Finger tips to pink and black nose, practically face to muzzle.  Just as we'd planned...until Vic and I heard the snap of static electricity, generated from her glide across the living room carpet.  This best laid plan resulted in our new kid frantically looking for a way out of the backyard. From berm to berm, bush to bush, Casey was probably wondering what he had gotten into.  And just what kind of people were we anyway?

In spite of this inauspicious start, after several anxious moments, careful, very careful, coaxing - I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, little boy - resulted in a group hug on the end of the deck. The first of thousands.  We were a pack.

Homecoming

First photo of "Bob" surveying his new home

After detailing the pet carrier, as well as its bewildered occupant, the Prius started its commuter trek north. I wish I would have been able to take a photo of my stoic passenger's profile, focusing on Interstate 5 straight ahead from his carrier as if entranced.  It occurred to me then that several hours earlier this little guy had never seen a highway, and even two-lane roads near his farm in Kellogg, Minnesota were at a premium. What he must have been thinking.

A couple of hours later we were in Bellingham, Washington.

Home was a single-story rambler with a fenced back-yard, and a front yard just large enough for a Frisbee toss - a must for a Border Collie - on the southside of town. Environs that didn't come close to resembling Bob's free-range existence on the farm. He seemed underwhelmed as I set up his carrier in the living room. A sliding-door opened onto a backyard deck, and after I had finished configuring his new digs I found our boy perched stoically on the far edge glancing at every passing bird and digesting each new sound.

Less than a half-hour later I heard his new mom on the front porch. This ought to be good.

Hitting the road for home

Casey's last romp in Minnesota with Mom

A short walk around the tarmac with Bob was no where near as comforting for our urine-soaked Minnesota refugee as I was hoping. There was no sign that this little guy had been traumatized by his flight, but he had no intention of relieving himself after his six-hour trip (including a stopover in Minneapolis). A sniff here, another there, an occasional glance at Pacific Highway traffic, and rarely acknowledging the existence of the big guy on the other end of the leash.

It was time to hit the road for home, but first thing first. My new charge was in dire need of a bath. After removing smelly, wet debris from his carrier, I installed it in my Prius for a side-trip south to Federal Way. For the record, his water dish was dry, a plastic bag of adult kibble (Purina One) was taped to the carrier top, and paperwork accompanying the crate indicated Bob was actually seven-months-old, all red flags for mistreatment. A discussion for later.

One thing for sure, Bob would be in his forever home in a couple of hours. Before that though, my daughter-in-law Ernie would soon be the first of the tribe to meet the kid, urine or no urine. Some introduction to the family. No where to go but up.

Chasing Molly memories

OK, so now the die were cast. We were ready to bring another excentric puppy into our lives. Well, ready or not this little reject from a farm in Kellogg, Minnesota was as good as on his way. But before we go there, a little background.

Annie 1990

Victoria and I were first introduced to Border Collies in 1995 by our good friend Marsha, who owned two incredible girls Megs and Katie. To say we were impressed is such an understatement. Complicating matters that year, we lost our 15-year-old cockapoo Annie in the spring and were looking for another exceptional dog, just as irreplaceable. Then our quest was expedited by Vic suffering a nasty leg break. Focusing on a loveable rehab partner was an integral part of the search. The more we looked the more we realized that an inquisitive, active Border Collie would be a perfect match.

Marsha, Megs, Katie, Vic and Molly 1996

TThat fall we found Molly, and we immediately fell in love. She was a dynamo that kept us on our toes, even setting the agenda much of the time for almost 13 years. Our family and friends loved her. The total package. For the rest of my career Molly lived on both coasts and was up for anything - running, hiking, Frisbee, herding and she absolutely loved baseball. I couldn't drive by a Little League game without stopping to let her watch. We even went so far as to dvr a Seattle Mariners game for her to watch on television during each off-season.

Molly 2002

Molly B was a joy. Oh, she had her issues like all of us.

And we had never felt a sadness like the one we felt when Molly died of colon cancer. It became a hidden dread that I locked away in my psyche for almost a decade. 

Never spoken about again until this year. 

Long-distance rescue?

All the signs were there. Vic had seen it coming ever since I first saw "Bob" on the Minnesota breeder’s site. And after I’d returned from my status call - just to see how he was doing, mind you – I must have looked pathetic. “Just give her a call back and tell her we’ll take him. You know you want to.”

“Seriously?  You sure? Really?” Not wanting to push the issue or take any chances I was hearing things, I was hitting redial for the breeder as I was heading out the door of the quilt shop.

To this day Vic has always said the look on my face before she gave the go-ahead to call, just pathetic. Never regretted it, particularly not now.

Arrangements were quickly made to fly our guy to Seattle, ETA one week. It could have been sooner but Vic and I had made plans to stay with our friend Marsha at a B & B on Orcas Island for a couple of days, a delay we would second-guess for years.

So…I’d done everything up to now that I had been told to never do when looking for a dog. I began my search before I’d even stopped grieving for the loss of our beloved Molly; I found our new dog on the internet without personally checking out the breeder; and I had him shipped by air to the northwest. All red-flags in any dog adoption or purchase process – and I’d never recommend our plan of action to any potential guardian - but something was telling me that time had been a thief up to this point for Bob.

Wheels turning

Calico Creations Quilt Shop

OK, so where was I. And what exactly does a Mt Vernon quilt shop have to do with Casey's Worlds anyway?

So, after wrapping up our visit to the Skagit Valley Highland Games...the Border Collie competition was over anyway...Vic and I headed over the West Side Bridge and the Skagit River to city center's First Street. That gave us enough time to ruminate over the competitors, especially the young male collie, and of course Bob's status. It was about time to check up on him again. He had to have been adopted by now. Are you starting to get the picture? Vic was.

Our first downtown stop was Calico Creations, a quilt shop that Vic could have spent the rest of the afternoon in. She had to have sensed that I was distracted while I was feigning interest among the racks of fabric.

"Why don't you give the breeder a call and see how he's doing?" Vic had that look. She knew my grown-up creds were on the verge of crumbling for our reject in the Heartland.  

"OK, someone must have taken him home by now. Be right back."

I was back inside in ten minutes after finding out that my Minnesota distraction was still for sale, and there had been absolutely no bites. "He's just not outgoing enough, kind of timid." Incredulous at this news, as well as her dispassionate update, I hung up and trudged back into the quilt shop. But the wheels were turning.

Another Facebook heartache

Softies

We kept a cyberspace eye on the "hard to place" runt for a couple of weeks more, even called the breeder - no takers. But we did find out that our guy was  actually 10 months old, having been returned for a refund, and no longer in the best bargaining position when a new litter of half-siblings were his competition.

www.goskagit.com

Our long-distance, dispassionate pragmatism was starting to come apart at the seams, and the Skagit Valley Highland Games & Celtic Festival in Mt. Vernon finished it off. While watching Border Collies compete in the sheep trials we were completely blown away by a two-year-old male who didn't place, but the rapport with the commands of his lady guardian...priceless. And that wasn't all.


Even more than that, her exhausted "kid" jumped into her lap for a rub down, as we were kudoing their performance. Public displays of affection were never our alpha girl Molly's thing.

"Oh, yeah," she said, "Border Collie males are way more affectionate than females, real softies, at least those that I've worked with. They just want to please...look at my love junky here." That got my attention. Just had to go check on Bob.

Keeping tabs

We didn't have a clue what we were getting into. About a month before Casey - actually "Quantum Leap Bob" to the breeder - arrived at Seatac Airport, something just didn't seem right. I mean the idea that here it was summer and this little guy still hadn't been snatched up. Ten months old and no forever home. It was unsettling.

Bob

Before Victoria and I had even stopped grieving over the loss of Molly, our first Border Collie, I had been scouring the internet for an occasional puppy fix. To this day I don't remember how I found the website of a Border Collie breeder in the middle of Minnesota but one day it just popped up, and there was that face. Bob, the runt of the litter, should have been totally forgettable. He was sporting a nose that had way more than his share of pink and a partial blue left iris, both products of the Merle Gene from the sire, Bubba. Show dog material, unlikely, but that face was lure enough. I had to keep checking on him.

In a week or so I phoned the breeder to see how Bob was doing. "No takers yet. He just sort of hangs back," said a less than enthusiastic rancher. "The runt of a litter of seven and more submissive than most folks are lookin' for."

"Well, someone will take him home..he'll be perfect for some kid. Come on. He's a cute kid."

"Interested? Money back guarantee." Of course, she had no way of knowing that we didn't have the time to invest in another Border Collie so soon after losing our irreplaceable Molly to cancer. No way of knowing for sure, but she had to be sensing I'd be calling back.

Prologue

Late in July 2008 I drove to Sea-Tac to anxiously retrieve a new family member at the airport. When I arrived at the baggage area I was redirected to a vast freight facility on the south end, where I began wandering through a cavernous Northwest Airlines cargo hangar. An airline employee soon joined me in navigating mountains of cargo and a labyrinth of freight containers. We were on a quest that afternoon for a simple grey pet kennel, one that had been driven and flown over 2500 miles from a farm in America's heartland.

The company baggage handler led me through even more stacks of containers and nondescript freight until we both spotted the familiar Petco travel crate, large enough to hold a German Shepherd. At first glance it appeared empty. But after stooping to peer into the wire opening, I spotted, tucked in the shadows of a rear corner, a small dog, seemingly content to stay right where he was.

After a few minutes of gentle coaxing, nothing was succeeding in convincing our reluctant traveler to move off his haunches and into the light. "Hey, little guy, you wanna get out of here and go home?"..."How you doing kiddo?" Nothing doing, nothing at all, but who could blame him after his cross-country trip in steerage. What should he expect next?

Finally, taking a chance, I carefully reached into his dark, durable plastic den with a treat in hand, and was immediately enveloped in a cloud of ammonia. The kennel pad had morphed from cushion to urine sponge, and probably several hours earlier. "Quantum Leap Bob" was awash in the evidence, and had to be feeling worse for the wear. So, after using a combination of sweet talk and gentle tugging, the newest member of our family slowly - ever so slowly - ventured out of the darkness of the hangar and became the light of our lives. 

Memorial Support for WHS

Casey has so touched the lives of friends and family, as well readers of Casey's Worlds it's no surprise at all that Victoria and I have been asked if there is anywhere they can send a donation to his memory.

As monthly sustainers of the Whatcom Humane Society, caring and rescuing animals since 1902, we have already set up a file with the WHS staff to handle such commemorative contributions.

Donations can be made online  or mailed to the Whatcom Humane Society,  2172 Division Street, Bellingham, WA  98226. Be sure to specify that your gift or donation be made "To the Memory of Casey McLaren Marx" (or just "Casey"...they'll know who you mean).

Moving sentiment from "across the pond"

Today, in a Facebook chat from London, a good friend indicated that she had just heard about Casey.  I'm certain she wouldn't mind me sharing it. 

                                                           4:25pm
                                                       
Gene, I've only just found out that beautiful Casey has gone. I'm so, so sorry. I've been there as others have. My dad still has a tuft of our lovely Sky's fur in a gold box. I miss her still and the 17 years of joy, mischief and love she gave us. She looked like a black version of Casey. The pain is deep I know. I read your blog; heartbreaking. I'm reminded of the poem Byron inscribed on the tomb of his beloved dog, it's in the book I gave you. The last two lines say it all: 'to mark a friend's remains these stones arise, I never knew but one - and here he lies.'  Sky sometimes comes to me in my dreams. My personal belief is I'll see her again, but whatever yours is, Casey's love will always be with you. Big hug from across the pond xxxxxx

Alison, lovely, lovely. Hard to read such beautiful sentiment without tearing up. I believe that Sky and Casey are swirling around together in the multiverse somewhere, and their spectres will never leave us. Nor would I want them to. Thanks so much for the hug.
                                                           10:20pm   

I like that idea Gene, we know energy never dies so theirs is still in form somewhere and their love is still very much alive. Eternal hug xxxx

Winter glint

January 20, 2013

Snowstalgia

It looks like the snowpack Whatcom County has been dealing with for a few days will be history after tonight. It was always great while it lasted as far as Casey was concerned. 

Here's one of our favorite pictures, from about four years ago, as his guardians invoked  adult status, calling an end to the frozen fun. But he did "help" them complete a deck igloo.