They say you never forget your first love. My first love wasn’t human it was a dog. I can thank my parents for that one. It is no secret that I love dogs. I know more about them than I will ever forget. I will talk at length about them if you let me and have no problem discussing any facet of canine that you want to bring up. Anything from health to some goofy thing your dog did is on the table as far as I’m concerned. But, if you want to get really specific my first love wasn’t just dogs in general, it was a special dog. I searched high and low for a single photo of her before I wrote this. I’ve not seen her in twenty-two years and while I trust my memory that is a long time to hold a mental picture without time distorting things. Unfortunately I didn’t find one. I did find photos of my sister’s cocker spaniel, the first cat we owned that I remember (it was a blue longhaired cat named Max) and an orange cat that I don’t remember. But no photos of the best dog I ever met. The dog that changed everything.
Her name was Shadow. She was a Lab mix. I didn’t find out she was a Lab mix until I was in my twenties. She looked like a purebred black Lab. I assumed that is what she was. This picture is currently hanging in my bathroom.
I also assumed that said picture was in fact Shadow. I never told anyone I thought it was her, so no one ever corrected me. Context clues would have helped me had I paid attention. The biggest being that my family didn’t duck hunt. I’ve never hunted a duck in my life. I grew up hunting deer and squirrel. I call that picture Not Shadow now. It is still one of my favorites even though the illusion has been shattered.
I’m not being hyperbolic when I tell you she was the dog that changed everything. I don’t mean to sound dramatic, but it is the truth. Shadow taught me to love dogs. She wasn’t anything particularly special. I couldn’t tell you what the other half of Shadow was, though I could probably ask my parents. I can tell you she came from my father’s black lab Shine. She was a typical 90’s dog. She roamed the neighborhood and sometimes slept outside, but mostly she slept in the house behind my father’s recliner. That is not important except to say she was solid black and because of that in the dark the only visible part of her were her eyes, she could startle you on a trip to the kitchen in the dark.
She wasn’t trained that I remember, although I don’t recall her ever doing anything wrong. I can’t imagine my father not training her to at least sit and lay down outside of house training her, though. This was not the dog you write home about because she was exceptionally talented. That would have been her mother. She was just a dog. She protected us from other dogs in the neighborhood and had no problem chasing off multiple dogs that bothered us including a pair of rottweilers that chased my younger brother and I out of the woods one day. We were hers and she was ours and she made sure other animals knew that. Nothing touched us while she was around if she could help it. There was never a situation where it was tested, but I have little doubt she would have kept any humans from harming us if the need arose.
I remember petting her when it was dry outside and seeing puffs of dirt fly into the air and the normally black dog being not quite chocolate, but certainly not black until she shook hard enough to dispel the dirt. Like I said, she was a 90’s dog, we were 90’s kids, we lived outside, we got dirty, and she was right there every step of the way. These days my dogs know that leaving the farm is a no go, and they still follow me so long as the fence or gates don’t stop them, but I think the adventures with that girl helped shape a guy who wants to do as much as possible with a dog by my side, it was how I grew up. It is what I know.
In the beginning of this I said she was the dog that changed everything. By that I mean she was the dog that taught me not to be afraid of dogs. A part of my life I don’t remember. Shadow is the first dog I remember. She was born a year after I was, which means I was around her mother, though I don’t remember her, and was apparently afraid of what my parents call the smartest dog we ever had (and we have border collies that I’ve taught to do all sorts of things because I like dogs and seeing what I can teach them) so that is saying something. I couldn’t tell you why I clicked with her, but she was special for some reason. Maybe it was the proximity of our ages. Whatever it was, Shadow was the dog that raised me. She died when I was thirteen. I doubt I will ever forget that day. She was the first dog that we had that I was old enough to remember her dying. All these years later and having gone through it multiple times since, every time is like that first time, it sucks.
Shadow gave me a love of Labrador Retrievers. They are my favorite dog to train. I can’t imagine life without one. We’ve had four in my life. Two of them chocolate and two of them black. We’ve never owned a yellow. The black are my favorite and always have been. They are what I think of when I think of Labs. There isn’t a dog breed I recommend more to anyone that asks. They are easy to train. They are social. They are fantastic with children. If you can handle the hair and want a bigger dog you’d be hard pressed to find a better breed to spend a decade or so with.
I write all of this because that dog started a legacy that will carry on for the rest of my life. Reese was the last Lab to carry on that legacy and today I brought home the next member to preserve it.
This is Shadow’s Legacy or “Ace”. I don’t have male dogs often. In fact, he is only the second male I have ever owned. When Reese started to get older and I started looking at Lab’s I decided pretty early on that I wanted the next one to be a male. I couldn’t tell you why, other than it is something different.
I hope as he grows he will help raise a few kids that learn that a good dog makes the best adventure buddy, that dirt will come off with a hard enough shake, and that life is better with a Lab. He’s got quite the story ahead of him and hopefully a lot of hunting seasons. And though I don’t know how that story is going to unfold I know it’s going to be a grand adventure.
Here’s to a legacy started by a black dog that changed everything.
