As we thought about the words we wanted to write on Remus' page, we remembered a "living" tribute we wrote years ago--before we lost our precious girl, Lola. Amazing how these words written back then still ring so true...

Remus, The "Old Soul"

Lately, we've read many tributes to dogs who have gone on to the Rainbow Bridge to live in perfection and await the arrival of their beloved humans so together they can make their final journey.

It's hard for us not to cry as we read these beautiful tributes to these animals who touched their humans so deeply. We cry for the pain those who have lost one so loved are feeling and vow to cherish every moment we have with our own. We cry because we know someday our Vizslas will pass on and all of those small but special moments we share each day will live only in our memories. These tributes are a good reminder to never take the unconditional love of our Vizslas for granted.

As we thought more about these tributes, we decided to write a "living" tribute to our red kids, whom we love more than there are words to describe. Our first living tribute is to Remus, our first Vizsla.

We "bought" Remus the wrong way. He came from a questionable breeder who could care less about the family he would go to and the life that lay before him. Now that we have learned about reputable breeders versus irresponsible people who breed dogs strictly for monetary gain, it saddens us to know that there are so many pups just like Remus, exchanged daily for cash with no regard for their future. Too often these dogs don't end up in the kind of loving and dedicated homes as Remus. They end up in homes that weren't adequately prepared to raise and care for a Vizsla and because these homes have no support from the place they bought their Vizsla from, the Vizsla suffers in the end. They end up in rescue (our local rescue group is the Colorado/Wyoming Vizsla Rescue Group) or shelters. We wouldn't give him up for any amount of money but we would never choose a "breeder" like Remus' again. While we regret where we got Remus from, we've never regretted bringing him into our lives. On the contrary; Remus was meant to be our first Vizsla. He had many things to teach us.

The first thing Remus taught us was to smile and laugh more often. Through his wiggle-butt antics, our precious new puppy would lighten our hearts. Most of the time we couldn't wait to get home so we could spend the evening playing at the park or going for a long walk. We loved to watch him grow each day. On one of our many walks, a gust of wind suddenly blew several leaves up into a whirlwind. If Remus hadn't been there to view this event through his puppy-eyes, we wouldn't have paid much attention. But Remus made us notice how fascinating leaves twirling in the wind could be. We watched as he processed this new situation. Was it safe? Should he investigate? We let him be... then instinctively in a happy voice Mel asked "what is it?" and off we ran to attack the leaves together. We're sure passer-bys thought we were loonies as we laughed with our little puppy trying to catch a leaf or two as they swirled around us. Most of our outings with Remus were like this. Adventures. There were new discoveries around every corner, up every tree, under every rock. This was another thing Remus reminded us to do. Live through curiosity. Something we later realized we were doing less of as we got older.

Mel and Remus lived in a tiny, one bedroom apartment in the city and Aaron lived in a rented house with a tiny yard and three roommates. A high-energy pup in such small spaces could spell disaster. But we were was so incredibly lucky. Remus was the perfect puppy. He didn't cry or bark when left alone (inside and safely in his kennel). He never destroyed a single thing (okay--so he did chew the antenna on Aaron's phone and a fancy pen) when we failed to watch him carefully. Aside from the occasional tiny-puppy-bladder accident, he was house trained within a couple of weeks and would always tell us when he needed to go out. Whether we understood what he was trying to tell us is a whole other issue. Here was yet another lesson we would learn. We would learn this one slowly as we weren't (and still aren't but we're much better), fluent in "dog speak". Thankfully, Remus was a patient teacher and forgiving of our many mistakes. His solid temperament made him almost resilient to the times we used poor judgment.

Because we lived in such a small spaces we knew leash walks would never be enough to meet his high-energy needs. Somehow, early on he told us that he was a good retriever and this was a game he would very much enjoy. It became our ritual to walk down to Wash Park or Cheesman Park almost every evening for a game of fetch. We were outlaws, Remus and his humans. We would nervously scan the area for the dog police as we tossed a Frisbee or a tennis ball for Remus. He never tired of playing fetch. Without meaning to, we taught him to count backward from ten. As the end of the game approached we would tell him "ten more" and then throw the ball. He would bring the ball back and we would tell him "nine more". As we got closer to "last one" he would take longer and longer to bring the ball back. It would take him longer to locate the ball or when he did find it he would lay down with it out away from us. We would call him in and he would take his sweet time bring it in.

We felt a strong connection with him from the first time we picked him up and cuddled him. He would quickly learn to read our moods and respond as he thought appropriate. When we were worried or stressed out he would do his wiggle-butt dance around us until we shifted focus. If one of us was sad, he would sit close and lean gently inviting the sad one to pet him. In doing so we could feel our spirits lift and stress levels fall. It was as if through a simple touch he was transferring his positive energy. To this day Remus is the first one to tell us when we're feeling stressed or sad. We can sit quietly on the couch with him as he offers to help us feel better. This is just one of the many reasons why Remus is so very special. He is an "old soul". From a young age he always seemed to know what we needed. He knew and trusted that we had each other's backs. He knew and trusted that we would carve out a great life together.

Remus turned 8 years old in 2008. It seems the years passed too quickly and we wish could freeze time so that our special boy would be with us forever. Forever young. We know this is impossible so, as Remus continues living each moment with his wiggle-butt zest, we'll do our best to appreciate life as he does. We'll do our best to always greet family and friends with such obvious enthusiasm. To enjoy nature as if each outing might be our last. To trust that those who love us, will do right by us. And when they don't, we will forgive them.

To sum up life according to Remus:

Fetch the ball with absolute determination--never give up!

Stand between the legs of your favorite humans for a neck or butt scratch (feels great!) -- sometimes it's necessary to be pushy for human touch!

Shake your booty (you gotta really get into it!) so everyone knows how happy you are to be alive!