Rosa Lynn Walch: 8/20/1994-3/6/2008

We adopted Rosa from the Ramsey County Humane Society in St. Paul, MN after being married about 7+ months or so. Amanda met her but I’m the one who picked her up and brought her home. She had been in “custody” for about 6 months and they figured she was only about 9 months old. So, for convenience, we put her birthday on our anniversary. She was nearing the end of her stay at the shelter… 6 months is pretty long. She’d been on tv and was their obviously their oldest resident. They just knew she’d get adopted.

It took the first year or so to get her stable and adapted into our life. But, she quickly became a family fixture. Those years in Minnesota we did a lot of driving – Iowa, Wisconsin, Colorado. She went everywhere with us, laying in the back seat, resting her head on our shoulders. She drove the Alaska Highway a few times with us, rode a plane from Anchorage to Seattle, lived with several different families while we found a permanent place to live, and narrowly avoided being sent back to the doggie slammer one Labor Day weekend in Madison.

Whenever a visitor came over that didn’t necessarily like dogs, she scoped them out. She’d go over to them and gently rest her head on their lap, working to win them over. Many of them she did. She would chase Chunky (the cat) down from the counter on command. Chunky would jump up, we’d yell “get the kitty” and off she’d go to nose and cajole the cat off the counters quickly.

She was well trained – would not only come, sit, and stay for an hour or more. She would go the bathroom on command. She was very smart and so eager to please that training her was easy and it stuck, even when she was off leash. Her name was Rosa, but Amanda always called her Rosa Lynn, so that’s her unofficial middle name.

She only had two flaws. One, she had the worst breath imaginable… dead fish breath, is what we labeled it. And, every once in a while she would have a nervous attack and eat or lick everything in sight – blankets, carpet, plants, dirt. It would come up later, or out, for that matter. We were never sure what triggered these attacks, but we thought it was something between an upset stomach and a large part of her early life spent in a shelter. Luckily, we still have a blanket with a corner missing due to one of her episodes.

She loved running free and I loved it that she seemed most excited being an Alaska dog. When we took trips to Flat Top, she’d run all over the hill chasing the chirping ground squirrels. She’d always come back and check on us, but then hear a “chirp” and take off again. She loved Big Lake, also, and was a great swimmer. We could throw the ball out as far as we wanted and she’d go get it.

In fact, there was an infatuation with tennis balls. She loved them. The funny thing is she’d find one no matter where we were at. Sometimes we’d take walks by a tennis court and that was just torturous for her. Other times we’d go for a walk in some random spot and she’d go off for a while only to return with a tennis ball.

She introduced all four of our kids to dogs. She was great with our boys, as they were infants and toddlers and pulled, jumped, and layed on her. She was gentle as Jenna and Carli both learned how to have a pet. Our cats loved her and Cody often curled up and slept next to her. She loved chasing dogs, or being chased, but was pretty picky about the dogs that she’d be friends with and the ones she’d turn up her nose at. She liked Pepper because she’d bark and Pepper would go running. Even in her old age, she could do a pretty good job of keeping up with Pepper.

In the end, she had cancer and likely pretty severe internal bleeding. The kids got to say goodbye. While at home, with all of us crying and telling her we loved her, she looked scared and uncomfortable. At the vet, I took her in and laid her on the table. She looked much more at peace, more relaxed like she knew it was time. However, even though she knew and I knew it was time, it is so hard to say goodbye to such a dear friend. I know all dogs go to heaven and I told her about all the friends she’d see up there. I miss her so much and am thankful that she was so good to us.