Zelda was a rescue of sorts, a beautiful, one-year-old
Golden Retriever when she came to us not long after Ashley and I were married.
Her given name was Zelda Moonpie, and we didn’t bother changing it because it
just fit. We also used nicknames Zee and Zellie, but I started calling her Pretty Girl.
A runner when she was younger, but always a lover, Zelda became
equal parts protector and tackling dummy for our boys after they joined our
family. She tolerated rides and wrestling and sometimes even curious pokes in
the eye.
She was intelligent and funny. Early on, if she thought I was
paying too much attention to Ashley, Zelda would insert herself between us to let Ash know she had competition for my affection. She would let me know
she needed to go outside by standing in front of me and growling or softly
barking, and if I said, “Go tell Ashley,” Zelda would go over and stand in
front of Ash until she let her outside. Both of these quirks make us laugh.
If I have one complaint about Zelda, it’s she REALLY liked
one spot in our yard and rolled there so often it caused the soil to
compact so badly that it sits a little lower than the rest of the yard and I can’t get
grass to grow. We call the spot “Zelda’s
Buffalo Wallow.” If we were outside, or when she’s done rolling around, she would sun herself in the cool grass right next to it and watch
cars and squirrels and neighborhood cats go by.
She hated getting her picture taken and would turn to hide
if she knew we were trying to get a snap of her, which is why she's sleeping in almost all the pictures we have of her. During thunderstorms, she would
hide in the bathtub, of all places. Same for Independence Day. She loved rubs on the ears and cheeks and down her velvety snout, and, oddly
enough, steamed broccoli.
She developed cataracts and couldn’t hear very well, and later
on, arthritis in her hips, but was still a lover, and still a beautiful dog as her
muzzle turned gray. She hadn’t been getting around very well for two or three
months and a couple of weeks ago, she started having other issues. Her health
deteriorated quickly, and blood tests indicated she had either cancer or a
fungal infection in her blood. Neither offered a good prognosis.
Today was Zelda’s last day with us. When we get her ashes, I’ll
bury my Pretty Girl in her wallow, so she’ll always be in the sun.
