Valiandale's Midnight Star, CGC

Today is the 5th anniversary of the day Stella died. It's rainy and cold, which seems appropriate to me. I took the day off, and decided to do a little photo-essay about her life.

This is the first photo her breeder sent me.

I drove down to Tulsa with a friend to pick her up. We bonded practically on sight. She rode all the way home in the backseat with her head in my lap, and when we stopped in Springfield, MO for the night, she cuddled right up to me. She decided I was her person from the very beginning. She trusted me unquestioningly, it was a really humbling experience, to have someone feel that way about *me*. I'm not saying it right--I don't know if anyone could.

She turned out to be a little bit shy and skittish--not highstrung the way Taenzer is, but things scared her. So I started a serious socialization/desensitization program (though I didn't know then that that was what I was doing--the internet had progressed as far as newsgroups--no graphics or yahoo groups or blogs or webpages). I was lucky enough to get in contact with someone else with a shy puppy, and we blundered our way through, reading everything we could get our hands on and exchanging experiences and encouragement. I worked so hard with her, and the day she earned her CGC I was so proud of her I thought I would die on the spot. It was all her--imagine how much courage it takes to do something you're scare of because someone you trust asks you to. She had so much heart, and so much intelligence.

Stella heeling. This was a football field at a local park and the best place to train because it was big, spacious, and fenced. It's now got big NO DOGS ALLOWED signs plastered all over it.

Stella learning the directed retrieve.

Stella at obedience class in a group down-stay...

...and a group sit-stay. Notice how she's leaning forward. She's not getting ready to get up, she's taking her weight off her hips. I stopped asking for automatic sits in public because she seemed more comfortable standing, and as long as she was quiet and standing next to me, that was fine.

Stella meets a horse. Her first reaction: That's the biggest dog I ever saw!" Then she invited him to play. We once went through a petting zoo together--she was intensely interested in everything--goats, chickens, a calf, rabbits, etc.--but behaved beautifully and didn't get pushy or pully or barky.

Stella guards the office. (I tried to lighten this up, but it's an old, beat-up picture. She's under the desk, looking out into the hallway.) I had to stop taking her during working hours because she took her guard duty seriously (she was a very serious dog) and scared an electrician, who reported us to the campus police. But she always came with me on weekends or after hours, and I always felt completely safe.

Stella and friends at the playground.

Down the tube slide.

Down the twisty tube slide.

Despite her very bad hips, she was willing to do anything I asked her, including agility. I really didn't realize how crippled she was until I got Taenzer, or I probably wouldn't have had her do this. Here she goes through the tire jump.

Over a bar jump. (There are pictures of her on the A-frame and dog-walk, too, but unfortunately I'm in them as well.) She did everything but the broad jump, which I thought would be too hard on her joints.
It all paid off. She turned into a calm, confident dog with impeccable manners and excellent judgment. I took her everywhere with me, and I trusted her as implicitly as she trusted me. And when I had my little breakdown in 2000, she was there for me, she was my rock.

One year we went to Stratford, Ontario, to the Shakespeare Festival. The sign she's sitting under here says "Dogs Prohibited."

Of course, I had to get a picture of her with this bronze guardian.

Stella and Will.

Stella helps with the new garden.

This is the last picture I took of her. It was taken the morning of the day she died. I remember thinking at the moment I took that picture, "I'm so happy right now."

This is one of my favorite pictures of her. She's only about 18 months old here.

I miss her so much. She lived up to her name; she was my star in the darkness.