Revo was our beloved rotten rottie. She was only 6 years old and the love of our lives. We miss her terribly. July 5, 2008 to April 3, 2015
|
|
http://www.fox10phoenix.com/clip/11354069/revo-the-rottweiler-dies-dog-completed-bucket-list
|
|
A letter written by Champ's foster momReflections on a Champ...
Bidding farewell to the perfect dog
By MARY ELLEN CORBETT
The best definition is "holy instant..." at least it feels that way to us now...
It was the week after my husband and I had been assaulted in our driveway, by a pair of armed, masked thugs, in the summer of 2013. The kindest person I have ever known was beaten, stabbed and left for dead in a pool of blood on the concrete as I frantically raced to dial 911.
During my husband’s recovery from stab wounds and blunt force trauma, we met a miracle worker, Shelly Froehlich, the dynamo working with Rottweiler rescue operations in Phoenix. She is a beautiful slip of a gal who can’t weigh more than 90 pounds soaking wet, yet she functions with the strength and authority and determination of an Amazon. She had been in long distance conversations with my niece, Peggy Jean Kezar, who lives near Dallas. PJ had been calling around ever since she learned that her favorite aunt and uncle had been the victims of aggravated assault and armed robbery. She was determined to find us a Rottweiler to reestablish a sense of security for us in the wake of that fateful assault.
My husband, Lew, is 80. I am 73 and in compromised health. While Lew’s initial reaction was mixed...overwhelming shock tinged with considerable gratitude, just to be alive, it was taking all of the courage I could muster, just to recover from the trauma of us having been hapless victims of crime. In 40 years of marriage and rich journalism careers, we had never before been through such a terrifying ordeal.
We could not afford to buy a guard dog. Nor even to adopt one. (We already had two girl Cockers we treasured. Ordinary vet bills were getting almost too high for us to take responsible care of the dogs we had.. No way could be take on another.) Still, we longed for the protection of a Rottie, a breed we’d fallen in love with, years before. We’d had three incredible Rottweilers in times past...Baron, who had guarded our acreage in Vermont; our Bisbee, Arizona girl, Truffles – so named because she was so sweet; and Casey, who was a gracious gift during our seven years in New Mexico. Cost considerations now all boiled down to the obvious continuing expenses, after any initial expenditure. We simply would not be able to pay for a Rottie’s on-going care, food, vet bills and grooming expenses. Much as we wanted or needed one, a guard dog seemed out of the question.
I should point out that we are retirees on a fixed income and just the medical bills from the armed attack, plus the chopper and ambulance rides to a Phoenix trauma center, were approaching $60,000. It was unclear how much our insurance might cover and what we dared hope for in terms of possible victims’ compensation. Plus, we’d had to install about $3,000 in security devices (motion-activated flood lights, closed circuit TV cameras, reinforcement for our doors and windows, and a costly security alarm system. Add the cost of therapy for post traumatic stress disorder, and you get a picture of the impact of the tragic attack in our lives.)
Yet the Rotten Rottie Rescue gal came up with a perfect solution! She would bring us a foster dog! The organization would handle the expenses if we could handle the dog.
Shelly had taken in a very old Rottweiler, Champ, whose devoted life-long human companion had only recently died.. Members of the deceased’s caring relatives had decided that placement with the rescue organization was the best possible solution for him. And high-energy Shelly had a terrific idea...
Champ was 11, the best of a valiant breed where eight or nine years is considered a good, long lifespan. Shelly looked past the obvious and studied the strength and vitality still evident in this worthy foster candidate as she measured our potentials to cope.
I don’t know just how to describe it, but the varied circumstances in a lot of lives simply converged for a sacred second in a Higher Schedule, that summer, as the right thing unfolded for all concerned. The wise and generous Shelly, adept at matching dogs with the best possible human respondees, determined that a couple of terrified senior citizens in need of security might provide the ideal answer and foster placement for an extraordinary old dog who required a comfortable and stable home for living out his life in a state of unconditional loved. What a heady formula! There was an explosion of Divine Order in the firmament! The rest, as they say, is history.
Champ came to us in full understanding of the bargain. He was to do his job – to faithfully love and guard us. We were to enfold him with limitless devotion and acceptance, in our humble little home encircled in flood lights, in Casa Grande, Arizona.
The late gentleman who had always been at the center of this Rottweiler’s grand life, had done an extraordinary job. Champ was absolutely everything you might imagine a perfect dog would be! He was well- trained and cooperative, handsome and significant to behold. Plus he was possessed of great dignity and decorum, a gentleness and warm sense of humor blended with courage, common sense and fierce loyalty. He pulled out all the dog stops, showing from the first hour in our presence, how glad he was to finally have an unwavering forevering place.
On the very day of his arrival, delivered by the dainty Rottie Rescue gal who tipped the scales at least 40 pounds less than the delightful creature she escorted, Champ settled in as if we had all always known and treasured one another. He unreservedly wagged his nearly imperceptible tail as he greeted us, affectionately nudging our two Cocker girls, whose immediate acceptance stunned us. These dogs had a grand sense of bonding!
My husband thrilled at this new arrival! His face and spirits lit up with every interaction. And how can I explain my response, other than to admit I was totally, unabashedly smitten? This dog beamed joy through my entire being. He seemed to comprehend my fragile vulnerability and he directed incredible affection my way I could not have treasured him more if I had selected him out of a litter of newborns and personally reared him every moment of his existence on this earthplane. One look and I knew this was part of some greater plan. A warmth swept through my soul. For the first time in weeks, I left the house without overwhelming horror. I found myself able to sleep soundly at night. I had a new reason to get up every morning. Champ was ours and we were his. We didn’t need to codify it or explain it to anyone. This coming together was without a doubt "pre-ordained."
So Champ wasted no time in settling in. We were in a bliss of reciprocity. I wrapped my arms around him in an act of reverence and thanksgiving. My husband chatted with him of man stuff. Our Cockers, Brenda Starr and Luna, wagged him dozens of welcome messages. And this massive guardian – without the slightest hesitation – planted his impressive 115-pound body right up against our double-door front entry. Nobody was going out or coming in through those portals without his express approval!
He then went on auto pilot, doing all that housedogs do. He barked his ferocious warning upon hearing any unfamiliar sound. He fell respectfully silent when directed. He accepted every single visitor as a member of our extended family. He passed no judgments on any that we admitted. If we were okay with them, of course he was, as well. If we registered the least concern, he was right in the midst of the familiarization process. Nothing escaped his notice. His mission statement called for constant, untiring vigilance. Every person who met him fell crazy in love with Champ and he allowed himself to be petted and stroked into oblivion. He showed special affection for certain people: Shelly, of course; our son, Ward; my friend, Bobbi; my sister, Gina; neighbors, Jenn and Thomas, and Zoyla. And he was primed for fresh new friendships...of any gender, age, race, color, creed or species!
Champ proudly took command in his familial duties, never hesitating in his important security role. Take the day we had a plumbing disaster which brought eight tradesmen racing into our home, toting tool boxes, saws and tons of nasty equipment. Champ efficiently planted himself in the epicenter of the bustling activity. Not a drain stopper nor a length of PVC pipe escaped his scrutiny. For more than 15 man-hours on that unusual day, our big alert guardian plopped himself directly in the traffic pattern, requiring that the laborers continually step over him as they rushed about in their work! Not one time did he miss a trick. He was an amazing, efficient protector.
Champ never made a single blunder...not one growl or look of impatience or resentful over-reach. He adjusted his entire existence to our customs and schedules. He was a quick study who regularly thrilled us with his intelligence and ability to adapt to our way of life. And sometimes, when he was feeling extra happy, he would march over to one of us and plant a lightning-fast kiss – sometimes on a cheek or a hand or an outstretched arm...just as quickly moving away. At other times he expressed a light-hearted, affectionate snuffle before curling contentedly beside us, often resting his head on our feet, or on his own, comfy red pillow. When he needed something, he would walk straight to us and stare until we understood him. If we moved from one room to another, he would get up and follow...slowly, with a lope of contentment. He was most peaceful where ever we were, this easy going, sociable fellow. And when we returned after even the slightest absence, Champ stood respectfully, wagging sweetly to greet us, exclaiming: "Oh. I’m so thrilled that you have finally come home!"
For a full year, we all healed together. It was a sacred interlude.
Then, over a scant couple of weeks, we felt our hearts breaking within us. Our heroic Champ had a bout of some seemingly trivial illness during which he began to fail. Kisses and hugs, stroking and massages did not help him. Nor did vet treatments, medications, prayers, IV infusions or special diets. Nothing seemed to rally our giant dog. A self-acknowledged chowhound turned down our best home cooking. He was swallowing only water. It was clear that he was gearing up for another journey. He tried to soften the pain and to prepare us with his kindest, gentlest gaze.
Despite ours and Shelly’s best efforts, we could not save this beloved animal. He breathed his last in our aching presence on the 8th of July, 2014, enfolded in absolute love. He was unafraid.. He totally trusted our decisions.
I can barely endure the pain of writing this narrative now, though I so much want to create a fitting tribute to one of the most perfect and noble creatures to ever walk this earth..
Our lives will never be the same! We are different, wiser, more caring people, as the result of the lessons Champ tenderly taught us. He was a faithful, four-legged miracle, whose vivid crimson collar now dangles from our door knob, as a constant reminder to all of us that his spirit still closely guards our affairs.
In his final moments before crossing that bridge to the next phase of mystery and wonder, I told him that I want him to head up the welcome contingent that will eventually line the pathway for my arrival in the Hereafter. With us he may have had the briefest tenure of any of our 16 other cherished canine companions...but dear Champ endured the longest. He has seniority. It is only fitting that he will be taking charge!
Bidding farewell to the perfect dog
By MARY ELLEN CORBETT
The best definition is "holy instant..." at least it feels that way to us now...
It was the week after my husband and I had been assaulted in our driveway, by a pair of armed, masked thugs, in the summer of 2013. The kindest person I have ever known was beaten, stabbed and left for dead in a pool of blood on the concrete as I frantically raced to dial 911.
During my husband’s recovery from stab wounds and blunt force trauma, we met a miracle worker, Shelly Froehlich, the dynamo working with Rottweiler rescue operations in Phoenix. She is a beautiful slip of a gal who can’t weigh more than 90 pounds soaking wet, yet she functions with the strength and authority and determination of an Amazon. She had been in long distance conversations with my niece, Peggy Jean Kezar, who lives near Dallas. PJ had been calling around ever since she learned that her favorite aunt and uncle had been the victims of aggravated assault and armed robbery. She was determined to find us a Rottweiler to reestablish a sense of security for us in the wake of that fateful assault.
My husband, Lew, is 80. I am 73 and in compromised health. While Lew’s initial reaction was mixed...overwhelming shock tinged with considerable gratitude, just to be alive, it was taking all of the courage I could muster, just to recover from the trauma of us having been hapless victims of crime. In 40 years of marriage and rich journalism careers, we had never before been through such a terrifying ordeal.
We could not afford to buy a guard dog. Nor even to adopt one. (We already had two girl Cockers we treasured. Ordinary vet bills were getting almost too high for us to take responsible care of the dogs we had.. No way could be take on another.) Still, we longed for the protection of a Rottie, a breed we’d fallen in love with, years before. We’d had three incredible Rottweilers in times past...Baron, who had guarded our acreage in Vermont; our Bisbee, Arizona girl, Truffles – so named because she was so sweet; and Casey, who was a gracious gift during our seven years in New Mexico. Cost considerations now all boiled down to the obvious continuing expenses, after any initial expenditure. We simply would not be able to pay for a Rottie’s on-going care, food, vet bills and grooming expenses. Much as we wanted or needed one, a guard dog seemed out of the question.
I should point out that we are retirees on a fixed income and just the medical bills from the armed attack, plus the chopper and ambulance rides to a Phoenix trauma center, were approaching $60,000. It was unclear how much our insurance might cover and what we dared hope for in terms of possible victims’ compensation. Plus, we’d had to install about $3,000 in security devices (motion-activated flood lights, closed circuit TV cameras, reinforcement for our doors and windows, and a costly security alarm system. Add the cost of therapy for post traumatic stress disorder, and you get a picture of the impact of the tragic attack in our lives.)
Yet the Rotten Rottie Rescue gal came up with a perfect solution! She would bring us a foster dog! The organization would handle the expenses if we could handle the dog.
Shelly had taken in a very old Rottweiler, Champ, whose devoted life-long human companion had only recently died.. Members of the deceased’s caring relatives had decided that placement with the rescue organization was the best possible solution for him. And high-energy Shelly had a terrific idea...
Champ was 11, the best of a valiant breed where eight or nine years is considered a good, long lifespan. Shelly looked past the obvious and studied the strength and vitality still evident in this worthy foster candidate as she measured our potentials to cope.
I don’t know just how to describe it, but the varied circumstances in a lot of lives simply converged for a sacred second in a Higher Schedule, that summer, as the right thing unfolded for all concerned. The wise and generous Shelly, adept at matching dogs with the best possible human respondees, determined that a couple of terrified senior citizens in need of security might provide the ideal answer and foster placement for an extraordinary old dog who required a comfortable and stable home for living out his life in a state of unconditional loved. What a heady formula! There was an explosion of Divine Order in the firmament! The rest, as they say, is history.
Champ came to us in full understanding of the bargain. He was to do his job – to faithfully love and guard us. We were to enfold him with limitless devotion and acceptance, in our humble little home encircled in flood lights, in Casa Grande, Arizona.
The late gentleman who had always been at the center of this Rottweiler’s grand life, had done an extraordinary job. Champ was absolutely everything you might imagine a perfect dog would be! He was well- trained and cooperative, handsome and significant to behold. Plus he was possessed of great dignity and decorum, a gentleness and warm sense of humor blended with courage, common sense and fierce loyalty. He pulled out all the dog stops, showing from the first hour in our presence, how glad he was to finally have an unwavering forevering place.
On the very day of his arrival, delivered by the dainty Rottie Rescue gal who tipped the scales at least 40 pounds less than the delightful creature she escorted, Champ settled in as if we had all always known and treasured one another. He unreservedly wagged his nearly imperceptible tail as he greeted us, affectionately nudging our two Cocker girls, whose immediate acceptance stunned us. These dogs had a grand sense of bonding!
My husband thrilled at this new arrival! His face and spirits lit up with every interaction. And how can I explain my response, other than to admit I was totally, unabashedly smitten? This dog beamed joy through my entire being. He seemed to comprehend my fragile vulnerability and he directed incredible affection my way I could not have treasured him more if I had selected him out of a litter of newborns and personally reared him every moment of his existence on this earthplane. One look and I knew this was part of some greater plan. A warmth swept through my soul. For the first time in weeks, I left the house without overwhelming horror. I found myself able to sleep soundly at night. I had a new reason to get up every morning. Champ was ours and we were his. We didn’t need to codify it or explain it to anyone. This coming together was without a doubt "pre-ordained."
So Champ wasted no time in settling in. We were in a bliss of reciprocity. I wrapped my arms around him in an act of reverence and thanksgiving. My husband chatted with him of man stuff. Our Cockers, Brenda Starr and Luna, wagged him dozens of welcome messages. And this massive guardian – without the slightest hesitation – planted his impressive 115-pound body right up against our double-door front entry. Nobody was going out or coming in through those portals without his express approval!
He then went on auto pilot, doing all that housedogs do. He barked his ferocious warning upon hearing any unfamiliar sound. He fell respectfully silent when directed. He accepted every single visitor as a member of our extended family. He passed no judgments on any that we admitted. If we were okay with them, of course he was, as well. If we registered the least concern, he was right in the midst of the familiarization process. Nothing escaped his notice. His mission statement called for constant, untiring vigilance. Every person who met him fell crazy in love with Champ and he allowed himself to be petted and stroked into oblivion. He showed special affection for certain people: Shelly, of course; our son, Ward; my friend, Bobbi; my sister, Gina; neighbors, Jenn and Thomas, and Zoyla. And he was primed for fresh new friendships...of any gender, age, race, color, creed or species!
Champ proudly took command in his familial duties, never hesitating in his important security role. Take the day we had a plumbing disaster which brought eight tradesmen racing into our home, toting tool boxes, saws and tons of nasty equipment. Champ efficiently planted himself in the epicenter of the bustling activity. Not a drain stopper nor a length of PVC pipe escaped his scrutiny. For more than 15 man-hours on that unusual day, our big alert guardian plopped himself directly in the traffic pattern, requiring that the laborers continually step over him as they rushed about in their work! Not one time did he miss a trick. He was an amazing, efficient protector.
Champ never made a single blunder...not one growl or look of impatience or resentful over-reach. He adjusted his entire existence to our customs and schedules. He was a quick study who regularly thrilled us with his intelligence and ability to adapt to our way of life. And sometimes, when he was feeling extra happy, he would march over to one of us and plant a lightning-fast kiss – sometimes on a cheek or a hand or an outstretched arm...just as quickly moving away. At other times he expressed a light-hearted, affectionate snuffle before curling contentedly beside us, often resting his head on our feet, or on his own, comfy red pillow. When he needed something, he would walk straight to us and stare until we understood him. If we moved from one room to another, he would get up and follow...slowly, with a lope of contentment. He was most peaceful where ever we were, this easy going, sociable fellow. And when we returned after even the slightest absence, Champ stood respectfully, wagging sweetly to greet us, exclaiming: "Oh. I’m so thrilled that you have finally come home!"
For a full year, we all healed together. It was a sacred interlude.
Then, over a scant couple of weeks, we felt our hearts breaking within us. Our heroic Champ had a bout of some seemingly trivial illness during which he began to fail. Kisses and hugs, stroking and massages did not help him. Nor did vet treatments, medications, prayers, IV infusions or special diets. Nothing seemed to rally our giant dog. A self-acknowledged chowhound turned down our best home cooking. He was swallowing only water. It was clear that he was gearing up for another journey. He tried to soften the pain and to prepare us with his kindest, gentlest gaze.
Despite ours and Shelly’s best efforts, we could not save this beloved animal. He breathed his last in our aching presence on the 8th of July, 2014, enfolded in absolute love. He was unafraid.. He totally trusted our decisions.
I can barely endure the pain of writing this narrative now, though I so much want to create a fitting tribute to one of the most perfect and noble creatures to ever walk this earth..
Our lives will never be the same! We are different, wiser, more caring people, as the result of the lessons Champ tenderly taught us. He was a faithful, four-legged miracle, whose vivid crimson collar now dangles from our door knob, as a constant reminder to all of us that his spirit still closely guards our affairs.
In his final moments before crossing that bridge to the next phase of mystery and wonder, I told him that I want him to head up the welcome contingent that will eventually line the pathway for my arrival in the Hereafter. With us he may have had the briefest tenure of any of our 16 other cherished canine companions...but dear Champ endured the longest. He has seniority. It is only fitting that he will be taking charge!