Criket Der Viking

Requiem for a Princess

My wife, Caroline, always said that Cricket was from royalty. Everything about her was regal from the classic white blaze on her forehead to the powerful white chest, the alert ears and most especially; the eyes. They were perfectly set deep brown pools that literally radiated awareness, commitment and purpose. The stare they produced, on her command, was irresistible.

She had more dignity that any creature, man or beast, I have ever known. Her sense of who she was and what she stood for was as strong as in any human individual I have ever known. If, indeed, there is such a thing as canine royalty, Cricket was a Crown Princess.

From the day she was brought home from the breeder and Caroline placed her on the ground in front of her older half-sister, Dixie, she established the order of the canine court in her new ?castle?. Dixie, being a fun loving, good time, get along girl never challenged this little upstart alpha puppy. And so it remained.

If Dixie was a happy, playful Entlebucher, Cricket was, from day one, certain of her mission and unyielding in her commitment. She did, however, have a fun side. She enjoyed romping with Dixie on our 54 acre farm chasing deer, squirrels and turkeys.

But play never interfered with her mission which was to protect Caroline. She was an incredible watch dog and would never permit a stranger to approach Caroline. It was a self appointed mission, one which she never compromised. We never attempted to assign her this role. It seemed natural and fore ordained for her. She was always ?on duty?. When Caroline would work outside in her garden, even on hot, sweltering days, Cricket would find the closest shady spot from which she could observe Caroline?s every move. She literally never took her eyes off Caroline. If Caroline was working upstairs Cricket would lie at the bottom of the stairs and wait. Should there be no sounds from upstairs for a time, Cricket would go up to check on things.

Her personal habits bespoke a refined heritage. She never gobbled her food, as Dixie did, but smelled it first and then, if she liked it, ate in a measured, deliberate manner. When offered a treat she would first smell and then deftly and daintily take it from our fingers without ever letting her teeth touch us. She would never, under any circumstances, accept a treat from a stranger.

In her final days she suffered from a tiny bit of incontinence. Therefore, we covered her bed with towels. When she detected any trace of urine smell on a towel she would not lie on the bed until the towels were changed.

She never surrendered her dignity even when her body was wracked with the ravages of kidney failure. Days after she completely stopped eating and drinking and was too weak to climb the one step into the house, she insisted on going outside to take care of her bodily functions. I have never witnessed such courage and determination.

On her final day, in obvious great discomfort, she, as always, had those still bright eyes focused squarely on Caroline. Her gaze never faltered until the very end when, at the very last moment she turned her head away as if to say, ?I must go now?.

We were blessed with this incredible Princess? reign in our ?castle? for nine and a half years. But it ended way too soon.