Kel, the Kelpie

My Dad asked me a question in 2001, “We can either get a pool or a dog?” The answer was “I don’t know…” 14 years later he asked me another question, “Do you want to get Kel put down before you head back over to America or after you have gone?” Again, the answer was, “I don’t know…”

Kel was the greatest and only dog I have ever had, and loved. He was a poorly trained, affectionate, amicable Australian Kelpie cross. Kel entered our household as a free dog. He was recruited as a guard dog at my dad’s workplace, where his speed and fitness were seen as desirable traits. However, his friendly and loving demeanor did not fair too well in his employment. So, my Dad saved "Gorgeous Kel", as my Mum would say, from being whisked off to the pound, and bestowed him upon us. I don’t remember a greater time of excitement in my childhood than the first time I met my new dog: peering at him run frantically, tail wagging, ears pricked, and tongue at the ready! Kel was just shy of 2 years old, according to the Vet, when he became ‘ours’.

He was a lovably annoying and annoyingly loveable character. The first few years were riddled with braking mum’s pots, eating my shoes, eating my toys, popping my soccer balls, and, always, jumping the fence. A battle of wits ensued for many years, regarding the later, between my Dad and my dog.

“How could we stop this dog from jumping the bloody fence!”

My Dad attached a latch to the gate, Kel would jump up, hit the latch and open it. Later, he got a lock installed on the latch. Still he was jumping. Next, he secured some spring loaded boards to the top of the fence. They depressed when weight was applied, ensuring that he would lose his grip when attempting to jump. Again, a failure. Later, he drilled milk bottles at chest height to protrude outwards, obstructing his jumping line. This attempt also went 'sour'. In the end, my Dad got a bigger fence installed, that seemed to have solved the problem. I remember one time where he jumped our fence, and was caught by our next-door neighbor. He put Kel is his yard (our gate was locked). Afterwards, he came over to tell us, and as we talked at the door, in the background Kel could be seen jumping our neighbour's larger fence, and bolting away. Most days he would get out and visit me at school. I was so popular in those moments, everyone wanted to see Kel and pat him. I loved this, and the fact that it got me out of class.

As Kel grew older, he settled down, and became a little more obedient…He became inherently charming and unique in his mannerisms. Kel’s greatest loves were my dad, food, maybe the colour red (?), peanut butter and “going for walks”. Instinctually, his breed was engineered for life on the farm. Open fields, and running, running, and running. He was the Forest Gump of dogs. I used to attach a lead to him and hook one end over my bicycle’s handlebars, and marvel at his power and enthusiasm, as he pulled me along like a husky and a sled.

He was also the greatest defender I have ever played soccer against. No matter the deceptions or skills, I could not get passed him. Unrelentingly chasing and nipping at the ball, and often managing to grasp it in his teeth and run off with the soccer ball. There was also the hot summer nights spent lying on the trampoline, gazing up at the stars. Sounds very peaceful, except for Kel biting away at my wrist or ankles, or licking the sweat off my face, or rolling around on top of me. I miss this memory the most.

The first photo, above, was given to me in a photo album from my Mum before I left for the United States. It was the very last picture in the book. I remember my Mum catching me with tears in my eyes as I turned to that photo.

“Are crying Nicky?”

“N..n…no”, I winced in reply. It remains my favourite picture of him. One when he was young and mischievous. I had always wished I met him as a new-born puppy. I just couldn’t fathom how cute a puppy-Kel would have been! Either way, he aged well, and retained his youthful charm. He may have gained a few more grey hairs on his chest and chin, as well as his grey-sock covered paws, but he remained vigourous, eternally happy, and still loved to run!

He was a 20 year plus dog, if it hadn’t been for the cancer in his right front leg. It was a slow growing osteosarcome (bone cancer) that caused significant remodeling of his front leg. It heavily restricted his movement, but that never seemed to get him down. He still smiled and wagged his tail, and went on with life. Kel went on to live for another 2 months since I last was home. My Dad notified me last week that life was just getting the better of him, and that it was time..

I loved my dog. No doubt about it. I loved laying with him. I loved wrestling with him. I loved feeding him, running with him, scratching him, swimming with him, falling asleep with him.

I will miss him licking and kissing my face when I was happy or when I was sad. He would just lick me anyway. I will miss his soft, jet-black fur, and the courtly manner in which he would lie down and cross his front paws.

He taught me so much. Not with words, there were no words. But, only love. He taught me to listen and be affectionate. To offer a warm body and a wet kiss to comfort loved ones. To find joy in being able to run and jump. To play more and worry less. That the size of the heart is more important than the size of the body. That you don’t have to be rich or famous or powerful to be loved. And, to be brave.

It is in my memories, and photos that I remember him best. We shared a happy life, full of smiles and wagging tales.

The Questions…

I’m glad I didn’t know how to respond to my Dad’s first question, and, I’m also glad I didn’t know how to answer his second. Both times, my Dad, chose what is best for my family, myself and Kel. I’m glad he got live just a little longer, and bring some more joy to those around him in that time. I still wish I could hug him one last time. Rest well Kelly dog xxx

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They are amazing creatures.

One of the greatest tributes of the bond between humans and dogs comes in the form of a short film. Ben Moon dedicated a video to his dog, Denali. It is serenely beautiful. I often watch it when I am feeling down. Although, it has undertones of sorrow, overall, the lasting elicitation is happiness. No matter what, it humbles me and plasters on a great big smile on my face by the end of it.

And, if anything, the ending quote echoes an important message about life.

"We have evolved together. They are a part of society. Yet, they strip back all the wrongs, difficulties, and paradoxes found within. They make life simple. They make life enjoyable. They make everything seem right, and they give us their unconditional love" - N.H.

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