Tony and Adele Keyfel - Yakima, Washington - USA

 

 

Ch. Maskarade's Johnny Walker Red  "Shooter"

 

This has been a tough week. Since Cody passed in his sleep, Walker and Shooter are now gone. Walker had to be "taken in" -- his rear no longer worked and he was in SUCH distress. We absolutely refused to prolong that. As we suspected, Shooter (who was not doing all that well himself, rear-wise) did not do well without his brother/compadre who he has been with for almost 14 years now. So he is gone as well.

The tears are now not just flowing -- but, rather, the sobs are coming. We loved them so, as you folks do your older guys. They are so precious and hold so many memories and their personalities have shaped us over the last 14 years. For the better, we believe.

All three were warriors. Absolute super-heroes, in our eyes. Never knew that they could not do anything -- and anything they were asked to do, they did. Period. It wasn't like their geeky handler -- gee, can I do this? -- No, it was -- get out of the way so I can do this -- all three of them.

Walker was the "butterfly" -- his brother had 13 pts and both majors and Walker had NONE. Ooops -- Shooter finished only ONE WEEK before Walker. Shooter always had an air of superiority about him -- albeit a sweet one -- and Walker just kind of roamed around under the radar -- taking his BOBs (despite the handlers who we heard say they couldn't believe that piece of crap -- Walker -- had beaten their special to go into the group -- WHAT????? Everybody loses once in a while; and he was an absolute beauty -- so I walked over to him, after he had said it and knew I had heard it -- and just smiled -- a BIG smile -- didn't need to say anything. He was such a gentle soul. Went blind at an early age; some foreign substance in his eye had destroyed his corneas. Every single day of his "blind life" -- he came to us and sat while we cleaned out his eyes and told him how gorgeous he was -- and then he went happily on his way, guided by his brother. He was almost Zen-like -- if a dog is Zen-like -- so much patience, so little irritation -- another one of those guys, like Cody, that NOTHING bothered. Just wanted his morning hugs and was happy for the rest of the day. With his brother to guide him (of course, when it came to the food, Shooter guided him -- but the price for that was a -- just one single -- bite of Walker's food every morning so, of course, he got a little extra to make up for that).

Shooter was Mr. Personality -- talk about an "ugly duckling" that turned into a swan. Maxine Beam gave him his first points at 9 months -- I was so thrilled because he was my first "really knew what we were doing show dog." Until I saw the picture -- what she saw in him - must have been his structure because there was NOTHING else in that picture. I loved him SO MUCH and was SO proud of him -- BUT HE WAS SO UGLY. Bless his heart. He blossomed into this magnificent dog. They both finished before they were two -- how, we will never know -- I could see it at 4 -- but at two? What the judges saw was what we THOUGHT was there when we kept both boys -- and bless each judge who put up each dog for that.

Shooter was a little more imperial than Cody or Walker. He demanded respect. Didn't say-- oh, they're babies -- he said -- I AM TO BE DEFERRED TO (or some such thing, in his best, authoritative doggy language). But he didn't try to "kill" puppies without (in his mind) good reason -- e.g., Elvira taking the chewy right out of his mouth -- that was a defining moment for me -- I almost fainted -- he bit her!!! But Elvira's mother just looked at her and said -- are you really that stupid? And walked off!! Taught the owner something there -- of course, the bite wasn't anything major -- but Elvira knew she was going to die. Right there, on the spot. She had been attacked! Her mother wouldn't waste any time giving her any sympathy so she had to settle for some from me -- it clearly was not the same.

Both have proven to be sires that we could have never dreamt of. Shooter giving us Bunny and Robin when he was too old to be bred (11 yrs) -- he had to open a building door and a run door and go inside to pick his girl, but by golly -- he did it --probably the two best bitches he ever produced for us. Of 17 dogs in our building, 12 of them relate to Walker/Shooter (and there are more out of the area) -- who could have known -- we didn't know anything about that stuff really -- certainly were not sophisticated enough to collect them as we should have -- or to recognize their value in the first generation -- it was sort of EXPECTED; you breed a champion, you get a champion, right? We didn't really breed them all that often -- but all of a sudden realized that the get coming down from them did nothing but excel -- finally the connection was made (doesn't take me but 5-10 years to grasp a concept, as you know). God bless both of them. Without them, there certainly is no us as the composition of Maskarade stands today -- of course, Mandy (their mom) and Cajun did well by us -- but we really didn't have that "generational" concept down. With Walker/Shooter, it seemed not possible to make mistakes -- some, of course, were excellent but they were all good or above average. Something in the genes, obviously -- not in their owners!

There is, as you know who have lost older dogs, nothing but love and peace emanating from them. Acceptance. We were so fortunate to have the time, in each of these occasions, to sit with them and cry our hearts out and give them permission to go -- which each did, and more promptly than we had wished. They wanted to be released. Down the road, it is easier on one when the opportunity is there to tell them what magnificent boys they have been; how they have entered your soul and taken their respective pieces of it -- how you will never be the same, but will be better because of them and what they gave to us -- both in achievements and in future get -- and what we were able to try to give back to them (not NEARLY equal) but they know that. But its comforting to be able to tell them. And hold them and hug them and cry with them. It is so very, very empty without them.

Thank you for each who has had the patience to wade through this. I know it was tough. Its been a rough winter for a lot of people, but three in a week is more sadness than we have dealt with in a very long time. It was the right thing to do; we know that. And we have never questioned when when it is their time -- we figure it out and have always "gone with it." But this has been somewhat of a surprise (no, not a shock -- none of these boys were youngsters) to lose so many so quickly -- and we are not asking "why" -- just doing the best we can to cope with the decision that was made by a power higher than us. Understanding the reason -- its a little hard but the amount of "personal pronouns" in here are the best clue -- it is not US -- it is THEM. What is best for them at whatever that time may be. We accept it and do our grieving, although that takes a while.

The pride our lives, the old guys (Bandit, Mandy, Tenacity, Hank, Flyer -- the list goes on) -- are waiting for them -- eagerly, we are sure. To meet them as beautiful and free of pain and stress and aches as they can be -- so everybody can dig their respective holes (a skill that diminished as they got older) -- and not just look at and wish they could do it like before, but to chase and really, honestly catch the birds and whatever other critters stand foolishly in front of them --

God speed, guys -- we love you and miss you and were honored to be your custodians for the brief period we were allowed.

SHOOTER

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