By our side.

Margaret called this morning (October 12, 2006) from Colorado City.

Our "shared" family dog, Laci, has been happily residing with Patti's mom for about two years, romping freely in the wide open spaces of her countryside farm. Laci would always greet Margaret's many visitors as they crossed the entry gate's cattle guard with an inquistive, but protective "what's your business here?", bark.

My cell phone revealed a deep level of concern and urgency in her voice. "Something's wrong with Laci."

Colorado City is 100 miles away; so I instructed Margaret to rush Laci to her local veterinarian, Dr. Alfred Vardeman, for immediate attention. I would be on my way shortly to bring her back to her own doctor, Charlie Mohr, here in Andrews.

We'd had Laci for almost exactly eleven years. She was a full blood Blue Merle Australian Shepherd with a snow-white neck mane and tan points in all the right places. Her pedigree is impressive, as both her parents were championship show dogs. Laci was one of a kind, and everywhere we took her we always got the same response: "Oh what a beautiful dog."

In November 1995, a puppy was delivered to 1300 NW 4th Street by a private breeder from Grapevine, Texas. The pup was an early Christmas present for Patti, as she was still suffering the "empty nest" syndrome; what with youngest son Brent at far away Texas A&M University.

A cute little thing... as they all are, eight weeks old and just a wiggly fluff-ball of fur. With the biggest eyes and the silkest ears, and a tiny pink spot on her jet black nose. Though we had picked her out of the litter from pictures, up close and personal translated to love at first sight for all of us.

Since we were a tennis family, and that puppy would chase and tumble after rolling tennis balls...and chase and tumble again, we decided to name her "Laci," after the brand name 'Lesse' tennis apparel we wore during that time. So, Laci was ours to raise, love and adore till death do us part.

Unfortunately, Margaret was right. Before I could even get ready to leave for Colorado City, the phone call came from Dr. Vardeman that Laci was gone. If you are an animal lover and have ever lost a pet, you probably know about "Rainbow Bridge"...our imagination tells us that's where Laci is now. [Enter keywords - Rainbow Bridge]

Dr. Vardeman suspected that a pancreatitus attack was the most likely cause of Laci's sudden and unexpected demise. It all started that morning when she refused to eat for only the second time in her life, and Margaret knew at once something was not right. Laci was mostly a healthy dog. We did have a few scary times; like when she somehow ingested something at the farm that made her seriously ill, and she had to spend several days at Dr. Vardeman's clinic. Other than that there was never a time for real concern regarding her health...until this day...when it all fell apart.

A consoling circumstance was that Patti's sister, Bren, had snapped a picture of Laci and Margaret sitting together on Sunday afternoon, and Laci looked perfectly normal, healthy and happy...but then again, she was always content when she was at Margaret's side.

After the shock phase of Laci's death had run it's course, my inclination was to immediately begin this article for my 'Speakin' of Country' column. As I reviewed her AKC papers to access pertinent information, my gaze was drawn to her birth date... October 12, 1995. Unable to speak, I handed the papers to Patti, and a wave of emotion flooded my soul as I finally managed to express myself, "she died on her birthday." The first major eruption of grief and tears engulfed us both.

Before she went to live with Patti's mom, Laci loved to go to our farm (Heston's Haven) south of Colorado City. When the pending trip was announcd with "wanna go to the farm?", she would immediately do a whirling dance and race to our front yard and "do her business" , before jumping into the back of the Toyota 4-Runner.

It was at the farm that we first noticed her 'herding instincts', as she would try to herd anything that moved...including our pen raised chuker quail, cottontail rabbits, butterflies, chickens, goats and even our visitor's cars.

Her most favorite thing to do was to chase down golf balls that we hit from an elevated tee box on our farm's lighted driving range. We kept wondering why our golf ball supply was noticeably dwindling from day to day. We finally discovered that Laci's herding instinct was so strong that she would snatch up the rolling golf balls, run them to a small watering trough in the pasture, and drop them in. There must have been 200 golf balls in the bottom of that tank.

When Patti and I arrived at Dr. Vardeman's clinic the next morning to carry her to the farm, the fact that she was really gone hit us hard. Alfred is such a caring and sensitive being (veterinarians are like that), as he calmly explained his sense that God gives us pets that we might be more aware of our own mortality, since we can normally witness their birth, growth, maturity, decline and eventual death during our own lifespan.

As Laci was gently placed in the back of our 4-Runner for her final ride to the farm, a second wave of emotion rushed through us, and we felt it all the way to Heston's Haven's gate.

When we passed the golf shed at the crest of the hill facing east, 200 yards west from our country home, we knew where we would lay her to rest...right beside the tee box...where she always layed down after she had herded all the golf balls she cared to for that day.

It is there that she will always be "by our side."

Laci 10/12/1995 - 10/12/2006