SPECIAL POST: BRANDIE AND ELK CITY

Please forgive me that this post is not about golf... and then, it can be.

As many of you know, we lost Brandie to a battle with pneumonia over this weekend. Brandie was adopted in 2004 when she was about four weeks old and almost reached 11 years of age.  Ramona and I want to thank everyone for their good wishes during her short but fatal illness, and for their support, calls and condolences after she said good bye on Monday morning. 

Losing a pet is never easy, and it was certainly painful to see her suffer and not being able to do anything about it. We felt useless. Pets depend on us just like small children... or older adults who cannot take care of themselves any more. It is great having a pet, and more one like Brandie, who had a very contagious character and personality since she truly liked everyone, especially kids... and of course, members with unattended hot dogs in their carts! She was never a mean dog and never bit anyone. If a kid hurt her while petting her, the worst she did was bark back in pain and walk away.

Brandie loved running around, riding around the golf course in a cart, almost like a queen (that in a sense she was) with her entourage and a chauffer, on a hot day she loved taking a swim on the lake of #6 (probably the cleanest of all most of the time), laying in the sunlight by the first or second mat on the driving range -or on the front porch of the house when at home-, loved sitting by my feet at home or at the pro-shop. She loved to be petted by kids, and loved Sabina, Myra and Rick Rex, all of whom gave her a daily treat.

When she was my playing companion, she loved running around and loved running into a sand bunker and run around the inside perimeter, leaving foot prints all over (which I always raked). Somehow, if I was just riding around taking pictures, or patrolling, she seldom got off the cart. In the pro-shop, if I grabbed a club from behind the counter, she immediately would get up from her bed because there was no way she was going to allow me to go outside alone. Sometimes I was "mean" to her by purposely grabbing a club, she'd get up and go to the door which I would open, she'd go out, and after a few minutes, when I did not go out, she would scratch at the door to get back in, looking at me as if asking, "what happened, I thought you were coming out?" She surely had a sweet face to whom it was almost impossible to say "no".

I still remember the day I came to sign my very first contract. We had brought Brandie on the trip and I decided to bring her out on the course to accompany me while playing with the members of the board who invited to play in February of 2011. I was a little afraid, but wanted to know how she would fit in. No one mentioned anything while she ran all over -she had not been running on a golf course regularly for about two years- and, of course, she did her sand "bunker trick", which I carefully raked. When we finished, I don't if I was relieved or grateful... or both, but I knew we were welcome.

We seldom used a leash with  her, mainly when out of town going to a strange place or when we went walking for exercise up and down 3rd Street or anywhere where traffic could be dangerous. She did not know any "tricks", but she was smart enough to know where the food came from. And if she was hungry, thirsty or wanted to go out to do her thing, you knew it because she let you know.

When I was gone and could not take her with me (I usually took her everywhere unless I was flying somewhere), she was Ramona's best friend as well: for some reason she was closer to me when we were both around, maybe out of convenience because she was usually unrestricted and free to do as she pleased. Ramona gave a weekly bath which Brandie never resisted, though she never looked like she truly enjoyed it. In our last two houses, we had a large stainless steel sink installed in the kitchen so we could give her a proper bath. After a bath, she always shook her body of the excess water and went back to her bed to get "confy". She followed us around the house all the time because she did not like to be alone.

Every day, and I mean, every day that I came to work, all I had to say was, "Brandie, are you ready to go to work girl?" and she would jump out of her bed quickly, shake her body as if coming out of the water, wag her tail and follow me to the car. Because all of the above, I knew last Friday that something was really wrong with her, when she barely got out of her bed, followed behind me for about two feet, and limped back into her bed, looking back at me almost like begging to be left alone.

This particular time in my previous
job, I teased her making her think
I was going out, when I didn't, she
came back to the window to check
where was I. 

There is no question that she was a great companion and loyal friend, A needy friend, like all pets, because they depend on us. Ramona and will miss her. I know that even now, I turn around and almost want to see her in her bed, knowing that it will be empty. And we, who love pets, love to be the "provider" of whatever is necessary and "feel needed". Perhaps it is a selfish act, but remunerating in the spirit: we like to make someone happy somehow, and dogs (pets?) are the easiest to make happy: give them a little time and freedom, food and companionship with a few treats and rub their tummy, and that is all they need to be your most loyal companion, (or friend), which brings me to the following:

Over the years, I've heard some people say that having a pet is "almost" like having a kid. I can see that point of view as far as some of the responsibilities, and can also say that losing a pet, and particularly one that you see through a suffering period, while it is very painful, it cannot be compared to losing a loved one, particularly one that is supposed to outlive you. You are always aware, if not prepared, to lose and eventually replace a pet because you are supposed to outlive that little precious hairy being, and again, get attached and with time, feel the same way of your new pet as you did about your previous one. But you can never replace a human life.

That said, that does not mean I -or Ramona- are not sensitive or hurting by the loss, particularly the way it happened, or that we didn't appreciate all of the condolences. Brandie was very special, and I already miss her, but, putting things in perspective, we are both looking forward to receive "you'all's" permission for a new relationship with a new, precious dog (mutt) whom we will spoil just like we did Brandie and whom we want to teach to love kids.

Again, thank you all for all of your good heartfelt wishes and thoughtful notes. Elk City is truly a special place to build ANY kind of relationship!