I remember the day we met Timber. He was 13 months old and having a crazy good time at the kennel where he was boarding.
Basically, he wanted nothing, NOTHING to do with us. But we still fell in love with him. He hated walking on leash and riding in the car was shear torture because he got so car sick. And still, there was something about him that we fell head over heals in love with.
Timber took my photography to a whole new level. Timber was drop dead gorgeous. He had long lushious locks of red hair and that boy was born to be in front of a camera. Nearly everything I learned about pet photography, I learned from him.
Early on he got really sick and we spent two months feeding him with an esophageal feeding tube. He was so patient while Karen and I figured out a manageable system. Karen spent his entire life with us cooking him special meals every day.
He spent massive amounts of quality time with our vet and even at the very end he loved her. She could poke, prod, pull and push and he seemed to understand why she did what she did. He also had his favorite vet techs, and didn’t take kindly to substitutions.
He had his dark side that we learned to adapt to. More than once he went after a greyhound and oddly enough, within days, we would come home from the vet with a cancer diagnosis for the greyhound Timber had been less than kind to.
Timber knew when it was coffee time and he loved his coffee breaks. He would bolt out the door, run down the pathway, and turn around and bark at us. Coffee happens in the barn in the morning and after work. He was always in a hurry to relax in the barn.
We feed the wild birds outside of the barn and Timber loved to watch the pigeons and the squirrels. He’d watch for the longest time until he just couldn’t stand it anymore and he would bolt out of the barn with his ears and tail held high as he chased them away. He always came back to the barn, so satisfied with himself.
Timber loved people, but most of all he loved, loved, loved little kids. I can’t even begin to count the squeals of delight we heard when he would go up to meet children. He’d stick his long cold nose right up to them and the kids always seemed to know to honor his space and pet him gently.
The evening walkies were something never to be missed… and if we got behind in the evening, he had no problems urging us to take him for his walk.
Timber was our gateway drug to borzoi. He was the first, a few years later his brother Zip joined our family and after that, we brought home Sage and Glory. He was so, so happy to have Zip here. They were buds, they were besties.
Timber loved Karen with all of his heart. When it was time for her to come home from work, he would put his front feet on the chair by the kitchen window to watch and wait. Karen was his human and together they had a very impressive mutual admiration society.
Our hearts shattered into a million pieces when his body was just done. We knew it was time when he no longer wanted his hand cooked meals, or the Stella & Chewys we bought by the case that he snacked on when we went out for coffee, or when his walkie only lasted to the end of the driveway.
Oh, Big Red Dawg. Thank you so much for the love and the laughter and all of the memories we have with you. The joy you brought to our world is immeasurable and we miss you more than I ever thought possible.
Until we meet again Big Red Dawg, aka Timber, just know we hold you close to hearts and treasure the memories we shared.