Houdini's D'Hurlain Pre (Wind'em)


Today was my dog Wind'em's last.

Windy has been a joy to look after these past 4 years since we adopted him from the kennel we bought Scout, our other Llewellin, from and he remained quite healthy and active until very recently. But he has declined quite rapidly over the last month and it has become clear it is time. Born June 2, 1998, at 14 years we feel like he has had a good, long and healthy life.

Elegant, self possessed, gentle with all, he won the hearts of most every person and dog he came into contact with. Perhaps it came from a life spent in a good kennel but he was masterful in handling any dog, whether an aggressive, dominant adult or a frisky and untrained puppy. And there wasn't a person who didn't remark on what a beautiful, gentle and friendly dog he was.

Until we took him, Windy had spent his life at stud. Not a bad life I suppose, an endless parade of ladies to keep him occupied but he seemed happy to retire and come and join our family. He was a great companion to Scout, doing his best to keep that young pup in line. Our son Gordon is close to both dogs. Where Gordon went, so did the dogs and so they were a great constant in Gordon's life as our family went through the recent turmoil of establishing separate households.

Wind'em was known in the Llewellin community throughout North America as a successful stud, with blood lines as pure as can be had. He is a direct descendant of Count Noble, perhaps the most famous hunting dog in history, known in the 1880's as the "$10,000 dog" and the only dog ever honoured by an obituary in the New York Times. Windy's sire, Gladstone Wind'em, was from the kennel founded by the originator of the breed, Purcell Llewellin, which still exists today.

While very different in many respects from my other three Llewellins, I suspect those differences are only evident to those with experience with this great breed. Like all I have come to know, Wind'em had that special something that all Llewellins seem to have and has drawn me to the breed.

My only regret was never having the opportunity to work the fields and forest with him when he was younger. When I adopted him from the kennel at age 10, the breeder asked me not to hunt him. He did, however, spend many hours in the fields with me, just never with a gun.

All of you who have dogs know how difficult a time this can be. Having had to make this decision now 4 times, I can attest to the fact it doesn't get easier with experience. Despite only having Windy for 4 years, he was a loved and valued member of our little family. He will be missed.




Regards,

James

Sad to hear

Hello James,

It is indeed sad!

JC

James - Any member of the family is a major loss. Please run right out and get a puppy!!! I feel your pain. Kind regards,
Dave

You have my deepest sympathies. I lost my Gordon girl at 14 and change last month. I come home from work every day expecting her to meet me at the gate...

James,
Sorry to hear of your loss. I've never had to deal with this, but with two dogs, it's likely in my future.

Regards
Chuck

I have had setters my entire 66 years and know a great setter head when I see one. That is one great setter head.

"There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day

But when we are certain of sorrow in store
Why do we always arrange for more?

Brothers and sisters I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear"

Rudyard Kipling

I,too, am sorry for your loss......George

In some ways, I have oft thot the quality of a man's life may be judged by the number of good dogs he is allowed to share and consort with.

Like important people in our lives, they leave behind both holes and memories to fill them.

Breath deeply of the latter when they have departed and hold them close while you can.

Windy looks like a guy I would have liked knowing, most sorry to hear of his leaving your company, James.

James...sorry to hear, not an easy thing to have to go through mine just turned ten last week, I've started to see the grey in her whiskers, i'm dreading the thought.
And their only fault is the they dont live long enough
Just remember, unlike us...all dogs go to heaven!

Claudio

James,Sorry about your loss.I hear you Claudio! Bobby

James, I feel your pain! Been there myself. Sucks man. Sorry for your loss. Buzz

James I'm sorry.

I just gave my Brittany Molly a scratch behind her ear in honor of your Windy.

Best,

Mike

James,
That was a very fine tribute to Windy.
I'm very sorry for your loss.
Just gave my Dixie an extra hug.

tunes

My condolences. You are a good guy for adopting an older dog. Be proud of what you did for that dog and what he gave you in return. I hope you and your family feel better soon.

Many times my dog will extend her paw to me, as do many dogs to their owners. And what is that well know line: " I reached out and touched the hand of _______? What does dog spell backwards?

Very sorry for your loss James!

-- George, you were just ahead of me on this --Kipling's "The Power Of The Dog""--the other piece of writing I treasure is: "Where To Bury A Dog" by Ben Hur Lampman- featured in the premiere edition of Gun Dog 1988??

Please accept my condolences. He looks to have been a magnificent dog.

My Gordon, Sasha, is here by my side as I write this and I don't know what I'll do when her time comes. I already see some grey in her muzzle and I dread the day.

If it's any comfort, it's worth remembering dogs reflect their owners and having Wind'em be your dog says a lot - all good - about you.

Best wishes to you, and R.I.P. Wind'em; may you always keep the memories in your heart. Tucker, my Golden, died beside me on the truck seat on the way to the vet, and Baxter, my Aussie, died in my arms. I feel your pain.

Thank you for your kind and understanding words. It's been a long day but I can rest easy knowing the right thing was done. Forgive the lengthy obit but writing it helped me to keep foremost in my mind the wonderful past with Wind'em and not the sad present. He rests easy tonight and he deserves to.

Regards,

James

I have sent a copy of Robinson Jeffers' "The House Dogs Grave" to your email address. Hope it is some consolation to you. I would have posted it here, but do not know how to attach it.

Thank you.

The House Dog's Grave (Haig, an English bulldog)

I've changed my ways a little; I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment,
You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you'd soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot of your bed; no, all the night through
I lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit to read--and I fear often grieving for me--
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope than when you are lying

Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.
No, dear, that's too much hope: you are not so well cared for
As I have been.

And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided. . . .
But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.

One final quote comes to mind:

" I think God will have prepared everything for our perfect happiness. If it takes my dog being there (in Heaven), I believe he'll be there. "

Reverand Billy Graham

Sorry for your loss. Losing bird dogs is tough. I am sure he's looking down on us right now, locked up on point, and waiting for you.

The best way to move on is to get another pup. It makes it a whole lot easier.

I know how you feel. My Lab, Miss Louli, a super pointing Lab,died suddenly, at a young age, "holding my hand" in the car as I pulled into the parking lot of the emergency vet. I then got a Drahthaar pup born the same day Louli died. Could not bear to be without a hunting dog.

I learned late in life the value of dogs. This thread reminded me of a recent situation involving dogs and people that really touched me and my wife.

In March or April, I was on a pen-raised hunt with some friends. I think I posted some pictures here from the hunt. Our party of 5 elected to just use my lab and my pointer, rather than hire a handler. In fact, that was the main reason I went...so I could work my new dog.

During the hunt or one of the breaks, one friend, who is active in his church programs with children, mentioned a young girl that had been handed around the foster home system and was intraverted and not responding to anything their social workers could muster. Apparently, she had a history of suicide attempts. My friend was really frustrated and worried. I mentioned I had seen some programs where people with severe social issues responded well to working with animals. Some horse programs came to mind, but I suggested possibly getting her hooked up with a dog program as I felt dogs were much more interactive with people than horses, after having horses for many years. This whole conversation was just something in passing to me. Maybe a few minute conversation. I had forgotten it altogether.

I saw that friend again last weekend and he mentioned the girl again. He told me that the church had a lady member that raised and trained service dogs. They had paired up the young girl with this lady and her dog program. The girl went from being intraverted to participating in class activities and other big changes in her interacting with people. He thought that working with the dogs may have saved her life.

That sure puts a different perspective on the value of dogs for me. Made me and the wife feel pretty good that evening too.

James, it is tough to lose a loyal friend. When I lost my old Roscoe last summer, I found some comfort in reading the quotations found at the site below.
http://www.dogquotations.com/grieving-and-loss.html
About dogs and men, this says it best:
This soldier, I realized, must have had friends at home and in his regiment; yet he lay there deserted by all except his dog. I looked on, unmoved, at battles which decided the future of nations. Tearless, I had given orders which brought death to thousands. Yet here I was stirred, profoundly stirred, stirred to tears. And by what? By the grief of one dog.

Napoleon Bonaparte, on finding a dog beside the body of his dead master, licking his face and howling, on a moonlit field after a battle. Napoleon was haunted by this scene until his own death

so sorry for your loss.

Run with the Fox mentioned 'Where to bury a Dog' in an earlier post.
I found this poem at the time, about 5 years ago, when I lost one of my Springer Spaniels - my favourite - and went through what you must now be feeling.

It is so beautiful that it is well worth knowing - I include it here for those who might not have seen it before.

My best wishes
Gunter
England

Where To Bury A Dog

There are various places in which a dog may be buried.
We are thinking now of a setter, whose coat was flame in
the sunshine, and who, so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This setter is buried beneath a cherry tree, under four feet of garden loam, and at its proper season the cherry strews petals on the green
lawn of his grave. Beneath a cherry tree, or an apple, or
any flowering shrub of the garden, is an excellent place to
bury a good dog.

Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy
summer, or gnawed at a flavorous bone, or lifted head to
challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in
life or in death. Yet it is a small matter, and it touches
sentiment more than anything else.

For if the dog be well remembered, if sometimes he leaps
through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, questing, asking, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where that dog sleeps at long and at last.

On a hill where the wind is harsh, and the trees are
roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or
somewhere in the flatness of a pasture land, where most
exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained, and nothing lost –
if memory lives. But there is one best place to bury a dog.
One place that is best of all.

If you bury him in this spot, the secret of which you must
already have, he will come to you when you call -- come
to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the
well-remembered path, and to your side again.
And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they shall not
growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he is yours and he
belongs there.

People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper pitched too fine for mere audition, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them then, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing.

The one best place to bury a good dog
is in the heart of its master.

The simple act of petting a dog or a cat can lower a person’s blood pressure not only immediately but also measurably.

My Sasha saved my life, or at least my sanity. I am forever in her debt.

Friends formerly did rescue of Gordons, and had more than a couple of their own. They live in a rural area on about 10 acres, stone walls, hardwoods, a sunny meadow, a little pond down the hill. There's a pretty corner of the meadow where these old friends, including my first, now sleep. I make a point of stopping by every time I can, for a visit.

When we had to put down my first Gordon, the vet left a puddle of her own tears on the floor, next to mine.

Run with the Fox and Gunter, thank you for bringing that poem to my attention. It is beautiful. Wind'em now rests in a part of the garden he loved to lie in and, as the poem suggests, laze away warm summer afternoons or worry away on a bone. He is four feet down, beneath an apple tree planted yesterday. He is where he would like to be....close to us and part of the outdoors he loved so much.

To all, your sympathies have meant much. It is comforting to know how many of us cherish these animals and, in that, know my grief is not misplaced. Dogs add richness and love to our lives, demonstrate forgiveness daily, help us understand what to value and, as Napoleon noted, demonstrate the essence of loyalty.

Now the search for my next puppy begins....

Sorry for your loss.

If you ever have the chance to read a small book by John Rucker called "The Barney Years", do it. So many dogs can touch us, and some have amazing, incredible heart.

Rucker speaks this short poem/prayer when his Barney is laid to rest, which his father had written in hand on the back of a field trial book, along with the initials BCB.

Oh God, my master,
should I gain the grace
to see thee face to face
when life is ended,
grant that a little dog who once pretended
that I was God
might see me, face to face.