We have had a yellow lab for 15 years now. Her name is Hallie. She arrived at our home about the same time as our oldest grandson. She couldn't figure out what that squirming, crying mess was. She soon found out that he was the only human who didn't run after her to get the ball back from her that she had retrieved. Hallie would trot over to Gannen's walker and drop the tennis ball. She did that for no one else. Hallie's domain consisted of our yard, five acres of pasture, and the dirt roads we walked. I wish I had kept track of the miles she and I walked together through the years. She loved taking off after a jack rabbit, tearing under barbed wire fences, yapping and cutting first one way, then the next. Often, we would start up the four-wheeler and ride around trying to corral the rabbits for her. She never actually caught one, but Hallie sure had fun trying. She barked at coyotes, kept rattle snakes at bay, and was always glad to greet us when we got home. Hallie listened to a lot of laughing, crying, stories, and arguing. She had a knack for positioning herself just right over my foot so I could "rub" her stomach. If you started petting her and got distracted, Hallie would shove her nose under your hand to remind you to get back at the business at hand. She was the only dog who stayed around through the years. The grandchildren have tried to ride her, rope her, hug her, pull her tail, and check her teeth--she looked indignant, but never fought back. She saw a lot of shenanigans as well. There are stories in her head that will never be told (kids coming in after curfew, sneaking out of windows, having parties, and Lord only knows what else)! Once an errant golf ball caught her in the leg, breaking it. After a trip to the vet, she promptly chewed the casting off. She gave birth to fifteen puppies, and thirteen of them survived. They were the fattest, cutest little things. Poor Hallie looked like the wrath! She got so skinny and poor being a good mom. We gave the puppies to families who were happy to have them (with a little help from our precious red-headed, pigtailed granddaughter at Walmart in Plainview). Great tactic, eh? Hallie watched all five of our children grow up and go off to college. She also made her way into most of our family photographs.
We moved from the Texas Panhandle to east Texas, where Hallie was introduced to a body of water bigger than her water bowl. She nipped at the waves, and when we tried to get her to swim, she sank like a lead weight. So much for Labs and swimming for her! Here she had the run of the lake house, as well as 12 acres at our home. She had to get used to the idea of jackrabbits in the trees (squirrels). She would sit for hours on end as still as a statue waiting for them to make a move. Hallie and her friend from across the street had fun staking out those squirrels. She actually caught one, which surprised her more than anyone. Hallie looked so sheepish as another squirrel (possibly a member of the dead squirrel's family) came halfway down the tree and proceeded to give her the what-for! When we would all load up in the boat to ski, Hallie would wait at the dock until we returned exhausted. She managed to nab a few bites of whatever "fell" out of our plates or off the grill at supper. Hallie made friends with our neighbors, and would look forward to them rounding the corner. She would join them on their walk, and return when they told her it was time to go home. Hallie was deathly afraid of thunderstorms and fireworks, and we had to be very careful because she would run away, trying to get away from the storm. Once she ran off during a storm, and we couldn't find her for a week. Another family had taken her in, got her groomed, renamed her, and let her stay in the air-conditioned house watching TV all day! She probably wondered why she couldn't do that at our house. When we got the call telling us Trey had died, I went out on the porch, and it was Hallie who stayed by my side. Every time I stepped out, she was right there.
As we all do, Hallie aged. When we moved back to the Panhandle, she had to live confined in a yard surrounded by a fence. Slowly, we noticed how hard it was for her to get around, especially in the winter. She lost interest in retrieving her ball, and quit wagging her tail as much. Hallie still managed to position herself by my foot, even though she couldn't stay in one position very long. As always, she greeted us at the patio door and was happy to see us. We put her on pain pills for her arthritis, and built her a house with a nice soft pad to sleep on.
On March 3, 2014, at the age of 15, we had to put our dear Hallie to sleep. She was suffering, and the vet told us it was time. We held her as she slipped away peacefully. There will never be another dog like our Hallie. I know she is in Heaven with Trey, playing ball and positioning herself under his foot so he can rub her. What an impact Hallie had on our lives during those fifteen years! As I think about the qualities she had, I am going to say that she was as close to being a perfect Christian example as there can be: she was loyal, devoted, happy to see us, kept secrets, loved us no matter what happened, protected us, fellowshipped with us, forgave us, and was always there to lean on or cry with. Hallie, you are loved dearly and missed terribly! Thank you for the life you shared with us.
