We found out a few days ago that Lace’s litter sister crossed the Rainbow Bridge.  As far as we know that makes Lace the last of her litter, a cross between Duffy (McDuff of Windermere) and Dani (Diamond Aire Shadow Dancer — the Shadowdance namesake).

I’m grateful for every morning I wake up and Lace is still with us despite the lip smacking, snoring to rival even Dave’s, guzzling of water in the middle of the night, and aimless wandering in the yard at 4:30 a.m. when I *really* have to get to work.  The ol’ lady, undisputed Queen of the Household, still runs up the driveway and leaps over snow banks.  She may have lost some of the spring and grace of her youth, and she may lose us when we’re only a few feet away from her, but you can’t tell her she’s 15.  Rolling onto her back in the middle of the floor she’ll squiggle back and forth like a pup (which is something Quinn does a lot of, especially in the snow as he tries to make dog angels).  It used to be her great sport as a mother, lying on her back, belly exposed, waiting for one of her pups to get within range of her foot and then WHAM!  She’d kick the poor kid across the room.  You could see her laughing when she did it.  And they always  came back for more.  In the middle of the night she’ll squiggle across the bedroom rug, pushing off the wall, the dresser, the closet door…She doesn’t have to get up at 4:00 a.m. so what’s it matter to her.

When the other dogs get too rowdy Lace will still wade into the center of things and demand they behave.  And every one of them bows to her without exception.  Grady adores his grandmother and greats her with groveling and muzzle licking that annoys Lace to no end.  She’ll raise her head and move away from him as if to say, “enough already.”  Boxing is still her favorite sport and Quinn her favorite target, but it’s no longer the outrageous battle royale it used to be.  A couple good swings and she’s done, but always the winner.

During the summer Lace still helped me with chores, something she always preferred over trialing.  She would go out with me and faithfully bring the sheep in from their free-grazing in the open field.  At least now she has an actual excuse for not hearing me when I yell out a command.  As always, she doesn’t need me.  “I know the job,” that ears slicked back look tells me.  “Let me to it.”  And let her to it I do, carefully keeping an eye on the couple ewes that like to challenge dogs, ensuring no one challenges Lace as she rounds them up and drives them without assistance to the fenced in pasture, dusting her paws off as I chain the gate behind them.  “That’s how you do it.”

But the reality is her days are shorter now.  Her old heart needs a daily pill to keep it working smoothly.  One day, hopefully not any day too soon, she will join Desi, River, McGraw, Tia, and Shadow and she and River will lie down and head wrestle like they did as pups.  Until then, I’ll gently guide her to the open part of the patio door, chase her through the yard, find her in the morning and let her know I’m leaving so she doesn’t spend the next half hour looking for me, and hug her daily, kissing the slightly greying muzzle and letting her know how wonderful she is.