KC or Casey? ;}
Casey: The Unforgettable Companion
Casey was more than just a dog; he was a cornerstone of my life, and his name is inked on my arm as a permanent reminder of the incredible bond we shared. When Casey came into my life, he was a German Shepherd mix at 2½ years old. The woman who had him before me had invested a great deal of time and effort into his training, so he was already a well-behaved and eager learner when I brought him home.
Our first encounter was a bit tumultuous. Suzy, our dominant dog at the time, wasn’t thrilled about the new arrival and left a noticeable scar on Casey’s snout, a mark he carried proudly for the rest of his days. Despite this rocky start, Casey and I quickly became inseparable. After work, we’d spend hours at a nearby lake, where I’d throw sticks into the water and he’d fetch them back. It was a simple joy, watching him bound through the lake, each time returning with an even bigger stick. His enthusiasm for our games was boundless, and he always delivered, no matter the size of the stick.
During this period, I was living with my high school sweetheart, but as things often do, life had other plans. The relationship ended, and I was devastated. This personal upheaval, coupled with the need for a fresh start, led me to pack up and move to Arizona to be with my mom. Through it all, Casey was by my side. When we made the long drive from Colorado to Arizona, Casey rode in the back of the truck in a small space, never once complaining. He was a trooper, only asking for the occasional stop to bark at passing cows.
Casey’s herding instincts were apparent even then, a trait I grew to cherish. His natural inclination to herd and his loyalty deepened my love for the German Shepherd breed, influencing the many Shepherds I would come to know and love in the years to follow.
One summer, Casey and I took a trip to the Grand Canyon, with a stop at a campground in Sedona, Arizona. We settled in for a cool night under the stars, and I decided to catch some rest on a picnic table. Casey, ever the vigilant guardian, was on high alert. After about twenty minutes of sleep, I was jolted awake by Casey’s frantic sniffing and barking. He had encountered a wild critter, which I initially mistook for a cat but soon realized was a skunk. The skunk, in its defense, sprayed Casey right in the face, leaving him—and us—with a stench that was truly unforgettable.
The next few hours were a chaotic scramble to find tomato juice, the go-to remedy for skunk odor, though it only seemed to make Casey smell like a very unpleasant tomato-scented dog. The top off my Jeep was a small mercy, as it allowed the smell to be pushed out as we drove. Nevertheless, the scent was a constant reminder of that night, and even years later, the smell of wet fur would bring me back to that skunk encounter.
Casey’s life was filled with joy and simple pleasures—playing stick, riding in the back of the truck, and enjoying his meals, perhaps a bit too much. His love for food and his increasing girth led to health complications, and at around thirteen years old, Casey experienced what we believe was a heart attack. He passed quickly and painlessly, and while his departure left a void, I take solace in knowing his last moments were free of suffering.
Casey will always hold a special place in my heart. His memory is a testament to the deep bond we shared and the joy he brought into my life. His influence remains with me, shaping my love for German Shepherds and reminding me of the incredible impact a loyal, loving dog can have. Even now, as I look at the tattoo of Casey’s name, I remember a faithful friend who made every day brighter and every adventure more meaningful.
