Life With Ella: A Tribute

A curious thing happened the other day. You know how Facebook sends these notifications “You have memories with…from…”? Well a year ago I posted pics of my one year old grandpup, a beautiful Golden Retriever, full of energy and life, and already weighing about 100 pounds, give or take. I was puppy sitting him for a week while his family was on vacation. My wife happened to be on vacation at this time, so it was about a week alone with 2 semi-tolerant cats, 1 high-energy grandpup, and our aging German Shepherd, Ella, 12 or 13 years old by that time.

What struck me about the Facebook memory, and brought tears to my eyes, were the pics of me walking the two dogs. We knew that Ella was not well and fading, that she was nearing the end of her life, but I don’t think it had quite hit home yet. But seeing the pictures now of the two of them together, it brings it all back home, and I see what we refused to admit before. Through a glass, darkly.

At the time, Ella still maintained a very slow, but determined and steady pace on our daily walks. No longer did we walk a mile, or two or three. Once around the block was plenty for her, and she was satisfied and still looked forward to it. She knew every nook and cranny of her neighborhood and regular routes. She saw many other dogs in the area come and go through her years, mostly friends, but a couple friendly rivals as well. She knew many of the kids and some of the adults. I used to call her the “Grande Dame” of the neighborhood, as she strode along her domain with the bearing of a benevolent queen.

She Just Appeared One Day!

Ella was a rescue in every sense of the word. We had no idea what her story was. She just appeared one day at a friend’s house, desperate for food and friendship. She was very underweight and was badly in need of attention. Our friend (call her JJ) began feeding her, and after a few days let her stay inside on her sun porch. Her own dog, however, was not too keen on this intruder, so she couldn’t keep her (Ella and the other dog later became best buds). Taking her to the Humane Society was out of the question. They do great work, but JJ had fallen for this poor pitiful stray. So what to do? Call the Burnsides, of course!

It just so happened that we had a black lab at the time, Myles, who had lost most of his hearing and was nearing the end of his life, so we thought good timing, there’s room for one more in our lives! The first meeting between the two of them could not have gone better! Myles couldn’t contain himself! It was like he kept barking “Where have you been all my life!”, and from that point they were inseparable. Ella gave Myles a spark of new life, became his ears, and would shepherd him if he started to wander off. You could tell that Myles was glad to hand over some of his security duties, and he was able to enjoy another good year of life, just relaxing as the retired elder statesman.

What’s In A Name?

Now, allow me to digress a minute to comment on their names. Myles was named after Miles Davis, of course….so why Ella? To continue with the jazz theme, she was named for Ella Fitzgerald! The next male dog MUST be named Thelonious….

A Valued and Important Employee!

We could tell from the beginning that Ella was special. She had a unique demeanor and a certain aura about her. When she walked into the room, she commanded attention, not from actively seeking this attention, like most dogs, but just by her sheer presence. She had a calming effect and seemed to be able to sense and then defuse stress. Due to this nature, we had her trained as an AKC Certified Comfort Care Dog. She passed all the tests with flying colors, except the one where she was to walk by other dogs without wanting to visit. She was just too much of a social butterfly to stand for that!

With her training and certification, my wife, who is the Program Director of a domestic violence shelter, was able to bring her to work with her. She would sit in groups and meetings with clients and kids, oh the kids! They loved her – she would let them climb on her, pet her, give her treats, all under the watchful eye of my wife, of course. The kids, and sometimes adults, would open up to her and tell her their life stories, and she would listen and take it all in, absorbing their angst and pain. The kids would sit and read books to her, and she would lie there and listen, a calming influence. She was an important presence at the shelter.

Ella was also a valued employee, of course, providing comfort to the staff as well. But what was the first thing she did when she got to work? Make her rounds of all the offices, greeting the staff and looking for treats, of course! And lunch time – that was her time to really shine – gathering the staff together, shepherding them into the break room! She was in charge! Don’t be late! Handouts await! But she was also serious about her real work – she would often lie in the hallway between my wife’s (and her) office and the front door, so she could keep a close eye on who came in and out.

Of course all of this hard work would wear her out, and when she would come home, she would find me to say “Hello” and then make a bee line to her spot in the living room where she would pass out and snore for the rest of the evening. Once, or sometimes twice, a week was enough for her, but when she put on her “uniform” (purple Comfort Care Dog Ella bandana), she would instantly get into work mode, and she knew what her tasks were for the day.

My Therapy Dog

But for me, Ella’s most important role was more personal. Maybe a year or so after Ella joined our family, I became disabled with vestibular neuritis. If you have read my previous posts you know all about vestibular disorders and how they leave you with a literally unbalanced life, physically and emotionally.

With Ella I was able to be more independent, to adapt to my new “normal” and to basically start to live and enjoy life again. She was my motivator and my therapist, and I literally depended on her to walk without assistance, averaging 4-5 miles almost every day, up to 8 miles a couple times. There’s something about concentrating on a fixed object in front of you (e.g. a dog at the end of a leash) that helps you maintain your equilibrium. And Ella was very good at staying on the sidewalk, even if she was off leash, as I would allow on certain streets. Keeping my eyes fixed on her kept me balanced.

We explored our entire town together, and probably walked on 85% of the streets in town. I used to say that she could find her way home from any of the far corners of town if she needed to. We would run into people we knew, or they would drive by, and would wonder that we were so far from home!

We walked in almost all kinds of weather, visited all of the city parks, all the different neighborhoods, side streets, business districts, industrial areas, you name it, we walked there. She knew where to walk if there were no sidewalks – it would make her nervous, but she knew what to do! We would get to an intersection, and I would ask her which direction she wanted to go. She would think for a minute, then start walking in whatever direction suited her fancy that day. At a park, she would chase squirrels, geese, chipmunks, or just run, but always with me in sight. She even inspected a turtle one day (“Why is this rock moving??”)!

We would sometimes visit my parents and explore the town and neighborhood in which I grew up, including the campus of the local university. She was always a hit with the students, of course! In fact the only place where we couldn’t walk was the block where JJ lived, as she would want to stop to visit. This would be okay if she was home, but Ella wouldn’t understand if we couldn’t stop for some reason. That house and street was rightly etched into her consciousness.

Aging With Grace & Dignity

As Ella started aging, I could tell she no longer had the stamina to go on marathon walks, but we would occasionally go 2-3 miles, with no complaint or little difficulty. However early in 2022 she really started slowing down quickly. She still enjoyed the walks, of course, but her gait became less sure and her breathing became more labored. I could tell it was getting hard on her, so I checked with her vet (who loved her), and he agreed that it was time to commence with only short walks around the block. Her heart and lungs were still strong, but she was losing muscle mass, especially in her hind end and legs. She had taken care of us for so many years, it was now our turn to take care of her.

Then one day, she and I had just begun our walk, along with a friend’s small dog I was sitting, and her back legs gave out. We hadn’t gone far, but I thought I was going to have to carry her home. But, trooper that she was, she got back up and we slowly finished our walk. Unfortunately I determined that was to be our last walk. She must have thought the same thing, as she never asked for another one again.

And about a month later, on July 7, 2022, Ella passed away.

Her last moments were peaceful and she was ready and prepared. You could tell. At the end, her body had deteriorated, her mind had slowed, but her heart was as big as always. A blessed being, if ever there was one.

The outpouring of grief and love from so many people was a testament to her and all the lives she had touched.

She was a miracle rescue, who appeared in our lives one day and graced all of us with her beautiful spirit for 11 years. We never knew for sure how old she was, the vet guessed about 3/4s of a year old when she was rescued, but I think she was a year old, or perhaps more. She touched so many lives, and showed everybody with whom she came into contact what unconditional love was.

Not only did she get me up walking and moving, able to face my health challenges, she showed me how to be a better person. She showed me how to appreciate the world around me, to enjoy the beauty of nature, how to notice the little things that are so easily missed. She was my “walker” and constant companion, and my reason to get out of bed and moving more days than I could know.

A Hole In Our Lives, Filled

I’ve been wanting to write this tribute to Ella since I started this blog, and I knew it would be difficult and emotional. I was right. But the time is finally here, as we have decided to adopt another rescue dog, a one year old German Shepherd mix named Max (still in the jazz theme, thanks to drummer Max Roach!). Not sure what he is a mix of, but we are thinking of getting a DNA test to find out. We’re thinking he may be a Bernese Shepherd, judging by his appearance.

Until we met Max, I just wasn’t ready. In fact I wasn’t really looking. I figured if another dog came into our lives it would just happen. I missed the companionship, but I just wasn’t willing to actively look. It’s not like we would be “cheating” on Ella, but there just had to be some time, a mourning period, if you will.

Rescued from a neglectful home, Max has been in an intensive training program at a local prison for almost 90 days, not only learning obedience and tricks, but basically learning what it’s like to be loved and cared for. Learning how to be a dog. We have met with him a few times, and he knows us and is comfortable with us. We visited him earlier this week and when he saw us there was instant recognition and happiness. It filled our hearts. So we are finally bringing him home in a couple hours! We are very excited, but a bit anxious at the same time. So many unknowns. What will he be like? Will he be as kind and sweet as his handlers have reported? Will he adjust to his new home and family? Will he be too much dog for us? Will he like the cats? Will the cats like him? We’ve been getting the house dog-ready, so the cats know something is up.

One of the walls we had to break down before we could move on from Ella was her uniqueness. We had to fully accept and understand that another dog would not be like her. Even if we adopted another German Shepherd, we would have to accept that Ella was one of a kind, a true individual. Sure, no two dogs are alike, even from the same litter. But everyone that knew Ella recognized her unique personality. This was a worry of mine for a long time, that I would be disappointed with another dog because it was not exactly like Ella. It’s easy to know in your head that Ella could not be “replaced,” but harder to know in your heart.

But when my wife showed me pics of Max from the rescue site, the Canine Collective https://caninecollective.org/, there was something about the look on his face that spoke to me. His expression said “It’s Time! I’m the One!”. I finally agreed to consider adopting a new rescue. And so here we are. I like to think that Ella is watching us, wagging her tail with approval to tell us that it’s okay, that it’s time to move on. She would like Max, and Max would like her. They would be fast friends, as that was who Ella was, and we have seen Max interact with other dogs at the prison to see this in him as well.

One Chapter Ends, Another Begins

So all of this makes me ponder, what is it about the aging and subsequent loss of a beloved pet that is so difficult? Is it the fact that the animal doesn’t understand logically what is happening to them, like humans? Is it their change of demeanor, from one of strength to one of need? Is it the sadness in their eyes when they are trying to communicate their pain, physical and emotional? I can only guess, but I think it is all of this and more. Ella, as a German Shepherd, was a natural working dog, and she performed her work well, at home and at the shelter. Her life’s work was to help others. Then one day she needed the help. Did she know this? I don’t know, but we tried to make her final months, weeks, days, as easy for her as possible. She deserved a quiet, easy retirement.

In a few short hours a new chapter begins for my wife and me, and our cats. Max will have me back out walking right away, and I will see the neighborhood, and hopefully eventually, the rest of the town, through new eyes – his eyes. I have noticed a gradual increase in my symptoms since I stopped dog walking, so I’m definitely looking forward to my head and body working together again. Max will be a handful for awhile, maybe for a long while! But he will be our handful, and we will love him with all of our hearts, and provide him with the home he deserves. Welcome home, Max.

Rest In Peace Ella, our Beauty, our Gentle Soul.