Kate: March 4, 1986 --February 8, 1999

Kate

How Kate found us and how we found Kate

Harold and I were killing time at a mall, waiting to see Legal Eagles, a Debra Winger film. Passing by a pet shop we remembered that we had to replenish our stock of gold-fish food. My daughter Jennifer had won several fish in a contest and we looked after them for her. Walking along an aisle we stopped in front of cages where pups were held. Harold started to play with a curious scottish terrier; then he walked on. I was delighted by this funny little dog and asked the shop--owner to take the pup out of the cage. She gave her to me to hold. Immediately the pup, cuddled, placing her head on my shoulder next to my neck: she appeared to have found what she desired; warmth, security, love. She was completely at peace and trusting. That is how the pup won my heart. Harold saw what had happened and urged me to leave so that we could see the movie. On the way to the theater I insisted that we return the next day, in the morning, as soon as the pet shop opened so that we could save the pup and bring her home. Even after the movie I was insistent. The night seemed endless; I feared that someone else might purchase the pup before we did. Morning came and off we drove to the mall. By that time we had a name for the terrier. My son Julian had suggested Kate, and Kate she was. The commercial exchange was done and Kate was set into a small cardboard box and arrived at what was her home for the rest of her life.

When placed on the front lawn she was momentarily at a loss. Grass was an unknown. Having been the product of a puppy mill -so I learned-she had only been in metal cages or tiny indoor enclosures. She had been carried off, probably just weaned and sent into the world, first to the midwest and then to New Jersey, which is where we found each other. After a brief moment Kate ran and then somersaulted, her head was so large that she tripped over it, I guess. We took our Kate into the house and learned how to care for her.

Kate's Virtues and her Persona

Kate was an amazing dog, curious and thoughtful. I do not say this lightly. Kate would sit down in a field and look up at the sky, watching planes, helicopters and even a blimp fly over us. She appeared to be thinking about the phenomenon, trying to make sense of it. She looked, she sniffed, she thought. And when in time we brought a puppy, Fala, to keep her company she found room in her heart for him too. The two played, tumbled around, tugged on sticks, ran together or apart but always looked at each from a distance to determine what to do. Once Fala was a year, they became the best of friends and were essentially equal.

The day after Fala died -he was only nine--Kate looked for him in the great field where I walked them and where they had been together the day before his death. She was very methodical in her search. First, she looked back and recalled that on the previous day we had parked at a particular location. Not finding him there she proceeded to walk around the field's perimeter, marking as she traversed the ground. Then she bisected the field and again marked; she carried this out repeatedly, following a canine geometric logic. In case Fala was lost, she wanted him to know where she had been and to point the way home.

Kate unfortunately never had pups. We had her spayed, much to my regret. I would have wanted pups who would have been like her. She probably would have been a splendid mother, despite her miserable circumstances at birth. Why do I think she would have been exceptional. First, she nurtured Fala, showing him what to do. Second, she had stuffed animals as toys. She treated them as puppies, grooming them, licking them and taking them outside to the back yard "to play."

She learned to swim late, but once she experienced the ocean she became an enthusiast, running along a sandy shore, delighted and a little afraid of the foam as it rushed in and then retreated. We always kept her on a leash when she went out into deeper water for fear that she might get carried off.

Nature intrigued her immensely. A large turtle encountered on a path on Mt Desert Island in Maine, became an object of great curiosity. What was it? She investigated, sniffing until we took pity on the turtle and let it pass on. Similarly, when we encountered a snake on another walk Kate wanted to find out more about that animal but we feared that she or the snake might get hurt. In a canoe, she stood at the front of the boat and watched the water rush by. Eager, attentive, alive to sights and sounds.

She was a great hiker, willing to go on long walks, even as she aged and began to develop medical problems. On one of these walks on Mt Desert Island, after hiking through fir forest and then climbing up to a ridge overlooking a sanding beach and the coast and the ocean, she was eager to sit on a windy prominence and enjoy the freshness of the air, sun, and breezes that brought her wonderful new perplexing odors.

Kate loved to eat cicadas, as they emerged from the earth at the beginning August,. This "treat" surprised us at first. We would hear something whirring and buzzing; then we realized that she had captured the insect alive and held it in her mouth before releasing it or eating it.

She was a great ball player, mainly with tennis balls, When we walked her in Tenafly Commons, invariablly she would find a ball in the underbrush which we had not seen. Proudly she carried it in her mouth back to the house. In time we had a large collection of her finds; handballs were also perfect playthings. She was able to catch a ball and then throw it back to us with her mouth: a dog-human game of catch. Then there was the game of Katie in the middle, and, finally most amazing of all, she played handball, not with her paws of course, but with her mouth.

Until she became elderly, she loved to greet and be greeted by children; she was the embodiment of Ms Friendly Tenafly. When she was a pup she liked to have a towel thrown over her when she was wet; she played "ghost", and then sat down on the towel, as we pulled her about. And of course she ran in circles, in sheer puppy happiness for the first couple of years of her life with us.

Though dogs are said to be selfish, and Cartesian dogs, souless, incapable of pain, our Kate was a canine with soul, reason, passion and kindness. She was even altruistic, relinguishing her favorite ball to give it to another dog to play with. How unlike so many human children or adults. Were they only to possess her virtues.

A canine life--span is so short; I never foresaw that her lifetime was only a little more than a decade of my own life. As with Fala, so with Kate; great grief befell us, when she died. She had cancer and struggled with death beneath a fir tree as snow fell. When I realized that her battle would not end directly, we rushed her to her doctor and held her as she was injected. So from early life until death and into death we loved her. Always.