Little Lacey

As you may have read, I lost one of my dogs, Raven, at the end of June this year.  Yesterday, her sister Lacey joined her on the other side of the rainbow bridge.  I guess she kind of decided it was time, so she stopped eating and drinking and just curled up in her favourite spot on the couch and that was it.  It made for a very bittersweet homecoming to Ottawa, I can tell you that.  Now, though, I feel relieved, just because Lacey was never really all that well from the beginning. 

She was diabetic and she had a disorder where she had difficulties digesting fat, so after her puppyhood was over she remained one of the tiniest Shelties I have ever seen.  Anyway, as with Raven I thought I’d give you a little photographic retrospective of the Westborn Lady (otherwise known as “Little”, “Fuzzpot”, or “Shitbird”, depending on who you asked).  Again, you’ll have to forgive the photo quality on some of these, as they’re scanned from hard copies from back when I knew slightly less about taking pictures than I do now.

In the beginning, of course, there was just Lacey, the world’s smallest Sheltie.  She could easily fall asleep in an empty Kleenex box.Anything and everything was open to attack from her tiny curved teeth.  Including the laundry tree.  Often I would come out back looking for her only to find her attached at the mouth to a sheet she had decided to attack and gotten stuck on.She was such a vile puppy, actually.  She only wanted to fight, and she wanted to fight all the time.  This involved an awful lot of biting and barking.  We originally bought Raven FOR Lacey.  So really, Raven was Lacey’s dog, as well as being her sister.  She was a queen from day one and she knew it.And before we knew it, both dogs were all grown up.  I like this shot because it’s from the same spot, probably six months later.Despite the companionship of her sister, Lacey was always independent, and she and I would often go off on adventures, many of which involved her getting horribly dirty.  On this particular occasion, I had to cut out most of her ruff because the burrs were so firmly stuck.  But of course neither dog was particularly happy unless she was filthy.Always in motion, always in charge, always so nosey.  I know this shot was from before she was three, because that’s when we figured out how sick she was and she lost a lot of her thick coat.  I almost mistake here in these old photos for Raven because her hair is so thick.But even battling illness she was still on top of things, always knowing what was going on.Inside and out.And if it meant she got to nap in the sun while keeping an eye on the neighbourhood, so be it.Or on the couch.  It was a tough life.  So tough she even had her own cushion upon which to rest her head.  From this position she, not even 12″ tall, could order around my 6’2″ dad like he was a lowly servant.  But at least Biggie Smalls is back together again now.  Somewhere.