Goodnight, Sweet Caloi - In Memoriam

Good night sweet Caloi. Caloi, Roi, Little Roi, Roi Roi, Pig Pig, little black bear, sunshine puppy with the wiggle waggle tail, face, puppy face, devil dog, toofless wonder, sweet sweet girl. She said goodbye to this world on Wednesday, August 24th, 2011, and went over the Rainbow Bridge to be with her best buddy Cheyenne, and her old pals Kia and Murphy.

I have only had the good fortune to love my sweet little girl Roi for the last five of her fourteen years, but they were five good years, full of love, and kisses, trips to beach, eggs for breakfast on the weekends, sleep-in days and plenty of pets and hugs.

I wasn’t there for her beginning years, but I do know some of her more infamous stories. She showed up in a crate with a bow to surprise her Dad after he came back to Portland from a business trip. She drove the older and bigger Kia crazy through her puppy years, climbing all over her and giving her grief. The time in the country when she saw a baby cow through an electric fence, and even though Steve told her “No.” She had to see that baby cow, and ran and jumped with those short puppy legs right into the fence, only to get zapped and land on her little puppy butt. Scared and shaking, waiting for her Dad. There’s the story of how she walked into the house under construction and made her way to the second floor (or the roof), Steve saw a shadow, and it was Caloi, who then walked right off a plank and fell flat onto her nose in a face plant that left a permanent scar. No matter it added character. That scar and her floppy left ear were all part of her character and charm. She would race Steve’s truck down the driveway out in Canby, he’d ask her, “You ready?” and she’d wait for his signal, then run fast and hard, trying to keep up with his truck.

Oh, she loved her truck. Truck truck was one of her all time favorite things. Just say those words twice and that dog was ready to go, happy as could be in the back of Steve’s pickup, no matter if it was a fifteen minute grocery run, a day at the track, or a three hour trip to Bend, she was up for it and ready to go.

She was Steve’s best friend and constant companion for fourteen years. She loved people, wasn’t too crazy about other dogs, but she really really loved people. Me, Kevin, Jacque, and Ingrid most especially, but Roi made friends everywhere. And she loved her Dad best of all. She loved walks, and swimming, she would chase a stick thrown in the river for as long as you’d let her keep going, even past the point of exhaustion. She had a pile babies (stuffed animals) and would pick one to carry around in her mouth and show off for you. She didn’t like to share. (I will tease and say she learned that from her Dad.) She didn’t like sharing her babies or her friends. Once, when Jacque was visiting, Caloi thought Cheyenne was getting too much of Jacque’s attention, so she simply, quietly, turned and bit Nanny in the nose. It was so stealth that it took until drops of blood were dripping from Chey’s nose for us to figure out what had happened. Another time, I don’t know exactly what happened, both girls were napping in the living room while I was reading on the sofa. All of a sudden, Roi went after Chey, I jumped up to break it up, Steve came and helped pull them apart, and when we had them calm again, we noticed Roi was missing a front tooth. Never did find it, but there was a suspiciously toothlike bump on Chey’s head afterwards. Roi, you can finally get your toof back from Nanny now.

Because I met Caloi the very same night I met Steve – with Cheyenne, at the Lucky Lab – most of my memories of her include the two of them as well. For the next five years after that first meeting, Roi was my sweetie. She was her Daddy’s girl, but when Steve and Chey would go to bed early, she would stay up late with me, laying on the floor by my side when I was working on trials. If I was watching a movie, I’d let her up on the sofa with me to cuddle, even though it was against the rules. If you were home, she wanted to be wherever you were, following you from room to room. Home sick from work, she would lay on the bed with me all day, not wanting to get up unless I did. My comforter on the comforter.

One of my favorite memories was when we celebrated her 10th birthday with a trip to see Kevin and Jacque and all of their pack, and had a puppy birthday party. In the pictures from that day you can see how happy Caloi was, the excitement in her eyes, she knew it was her day. There were wrapped presents (more babies), a dog birthday cake made with carrots and flour and chicken baby food, hats, leis, and a hike to a river for a swim. A very full day to celebrate her milestone. Seeing how much fun all the dogs had, especially Roi, made it a very fun day. Another funny Roi day was when we did the Oregon Humane Society’s Doggie Dash fundraiser walk along the riverfront downtown. Caloi had never seen so many dogs before, and her eyes were so manic and happy, she looked like she might explode from all the excitement. There was the big snow of 2008, when she and Nanny killed the possum. Her training to be a pet therapy dog, where she did really well, up until the end of the training classes when she turned and bit Bridger on the nose. Bridger was an enormous Bernese mountain dog, much bigger than her, but no matter, Caloi got it into her head that he needed to get bit. And even though she never was an offical pet therapy dog, she put that training to use and helped bring comfort to Steve's cousin Casey when she was in the final stages of her battle with cancer.

She loved weekends - she was great at sleeping in - she'd stay in bed as long as you wanted to. And she got eggs in the morning on those days, although the time we gave her a piece of pancake for breakfast she walked around the house with it sticking out of her mouth because she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Even her daily bringing in the mail was fun, and she was happy to do it, happy to be helping. And she and Nanny sleeping butt to butt in their beds, waking up happy every morning, but Caloi was always the happiest – my sunshine puppy with the wiggle waggle tail. I feel so very lucky and blessed to have loved her and been loved by her.

Caloi the brave, the true, mighty squirrel hunter, bringer of TV remotes and mail, kisses and cheer, smiter of possums and other dogs, track dog extraordinaire, and Dad’s Best Girl. You were a good girl Caloi. Sweet dreams and rest well, for you have earned it, and though we will miss your sweet gentle spirit, Cheyenne ’s been waiting for you.