Before you start to read this, please do yourself a favor and get some Kleenex or better yet a bucket and a sponge cause you will need it.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008 was a very sad day for me, my family and for all the rest of you who knew her. My beautiful golden retriever Kinsey died Wednesday night in my husband’s and my arms at home. It is the way it should be, but it is not easy. The loss is almost unbearable for me as she was such a crucial part of my life, my every day existence for the last 12 years, 9 months and 2 days.

My sadness deepens as I think of all the people affected by her. I have received so many e-mails and calls since Wednesday night from all over the country expressing thoughts and prayers for her and her family. I am touched by their reactions, a man in Chicago O’Hare airport who received the message and had to go to the men’s room to compose himself, a woman in Florida who wept in her office, an officer in Maryland who told his dispatcher to hold calls for awhile so he could quietly cry, and others who are saddened by the loss and missing her already. I am surprised by the people whom I don’t even know who have called Kinsco expressing their condolences.

She was a remarkable person disguised in a dog suit who touched and graced our lives with intelligence, humor and an uncanny ability to know who needed her the most and when. She loved and was loved and will always be remembered by so many, some of whom I don’t even know.

I would like to take this opportunity to tell you a bit about the many faces of Kinsey. Her tale is long with much happiness and joy throughout her 12 years. She never ceased to amaze me at her personality, abilities and talents, coupled with humor, total disregard for what’s dignified and absolutely perfect behavior. She was welcomed everywhere…even places they didn’t allow dogs. She was special and she knew it.

I learned early on that I was only her driver and was truly needed because I could physically open doors, open food bags and could open the window for her at drive up windows. She opened the rest of the doors in my life and gave me the courage and conviction to go through those doors. We discussed it regularly, she and I, and she pointed out routinely that perhaps that I wasn’t the brightest person in the world, but that she would keep me. My life was enriched and enchanted by her presence as were many other people especially those in her inner circle (you know who you are).

I first met Kinsey when she was several days old and neither one of us knew she was destined for greatness. Her puppyhood was filled with too many stuffed toys, but the prominent ones were Mr. Bunny who is still with us and 2 Humpty Dumptys, 1 normal, 1 handicapped and missing a leg due to a tragic chewing accident. She knew the names of all her toys and carried them everywhere. She discovered frisbee one day and never gave it up. Balls were for other dogs…frisbee was her game and she would play long past exhaustion if allowed. She always got to play frisbee after I mowed the lawn, and discovered that after my neighbor Jim mowed his lawn, she could play over there, too. She learned to get the newspaper on about the second try and became incensed when the newspaper was delivered to the box at the top of our subdivision instead of our driveway. We fixed that quickly.

She was a tough puppy and yes, we did have to replace some sheetrock that she ate and some wood moldings. Small price to pay. As a true retriever from field trial and hunting stock she carried everything not nailed down and I found she was quite happy to carry things such as ceramic bowls, keys, eyeglasses and buckets. She always insisted in carrying her own bag when we traveled which impressed most people.

There was nothing slow about Kinsey. She did everything fast…she learned fast, made friends fast, responded fast, ate fast, and even ran fast in her sleep. She lived in the fast lane and kept me running with her.

She had a sense of humor unlike any other dog I have ever had and she had a look that told you “You’ve just been had!” She had reasoning and logic unlike most dogs and seemed to be able to use them to her advantage which just made you smile when you realized what she had done. She had impeccable manners and was welcomed almost everywhere. From the dentist’s office where she sat in a chair by the window watching the prairie dog movie to hotels, hospitals , stores and banks where she carried in the checkbook and stood in line waiting for the teller, she was welcomed and expected. I became accustomed to being greeted by people with “Where’s Kinsey?” Now, I smile when asked that, but I have the painful job of telling those who ask for her, that she has died.

The pain of losing a friend like Kinsey is worth every minute, because I am reminded of how much she enriched my life as well the lives of many others. To think ,for a moment of not ever having had the time with her is more painful than losing her. There were ones before her and there will be ones after her, all unique, yet all have some of the same features. I will endure the loss again and again because the joy of the companionship far outweighs the eventual loss. The pawprints on my heart are like merit badges and battle scars, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

My good friend Sophie sent me a quote from People I sleep With by Suzanne Clothier and I believe she says it best .

“There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other. To those who have never lived through its turnings and walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible. Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given.”

So to all of you who met her, to those who knew her well, and to her inner circle people, remember the joy she brought and keep her memory in your hearts. She taught many of you and she gave each and every one of you something special…a part of her. She was special and you were special to her. I thank you for being one of her people and she would say “Thank you for being my friend”. As for me, I will continue her work with the new generation…a child named “Kelsey” and I only hope Kinsey will wait for me with the others at the Rainbow Bridge.

Nan M. Stuart

The Many Faces of Kinsey

This is an article by Sandy Lamb who is a friend of Kinsey’s. It was first published in the Ladies Home Journal, Oct 2007

Meeting Kinsey

Nan Stuart scanned the classroom in Columbus, Ohio, looking for her 12-year-old golden retriever, Kinsey. Moments earlier Kinsey had been at Stuart’s side as she taught a class on rescuing animals to about 30 animal-cruelty investigators and veterinary professionals. It’s something that the pair does about 30 times a year. Suddenly the dog — ordinarily a model of obedience — was AWOL.

Then Stuart spotted Kinsey just outside the classroom, walking alongside one of the students. When Stuart called to her, Kinsey looked at her owner but stuck close to the man until he was safely seated inside. In a flash Stuart realized that neither she nor the rest of the students had noticed that their classmate was blind.

Detecting situations in which humans need physical assistance is the least of Kinsey’s gifts; she can also pick up emotional cues, Stuart reports. “During one training session Kinsey walked into the audience, sat down and pressed her body against a woman’s leg.” Moments later the woman, who worked at an animal shelter, burst into tears. She then revealed that she’d just received a phone call telling her that an abused dog she’d been caring for had died.

Stuart, 53, grew up on a cattle ranch near Bellevue, Idaho, where her family looked after horses, dogs, cats, and the occasional critter rescued from the wild. After graduating from Sweet Briar College in 1975 with a degree in anthropology and sociology, Stuart became a state humane officer in California and served there for 13 years.

While at college she met Eric Bagdikian, who subsequently became a California law enforcement officer and, in 1980, her husband. Fifteen years after Nan and Eric married they left police work and moved to Colorado to focus on what they loved best: animal rescue training sessions. The name of their enterprise is Code 3 Associates. (”Code 3″ means full emergency in law enforcement terminology.)

The business has two functions: It teaches animal rescue and responds to disasters across the country, from California forest fires to Hurricane Katrina. When a tornado demolished much of the tiny agricultural town of Holly, Colorado, this past April, residents called in Code 3 Associates, which built temporary housing for the town’s dogs and other household pets and worked to reunite owners with their lost companions.

Kinsey’s superior intelligence and unflappable calm were exactly what Stuart was looking for when she purchased the 6-week-old bundle of rust-colored fur in 1995 from a Lovell, Wyoming, breeder and brought her home to join two other training dogs, a cat, and two horses. First Kinsey learned basic skills, such as how to respond to Stuart’s hand, voice, and whistle signals. Then Kinsey began years of more-specialized preparation. When Kinsey and Stuart teach Code 3’s students to save injured dogs, for example, Kinsey plays the part of the injured animal. She lets trainees assess her “wounds,” practice treating them, then load her onto an animal litter. During this process Kinsey obeys Stuart’s changing commands to cry, struggle, cooperate, or play dead. “She’s the smartest dog I’ve ever seen,” says Stuart — and the most intuitive.
Touching Souls
Janice Siegford, PhD, a research assistant professor of animal science at Michigan State University, explains Kinsey’s seeming ability to read minds. What dogs pick up, she says, are behavioral cues such as body posture, facial tension, even a widening of the eyes. They can detect “very subtle things, like the fact that the corners of your mouth are tight, things we don’t realize are happening,” she says. Stress gives dogs important clues as well. When we are anxious or afraid, our voices rise in pitch and our adrenal glands excrete cortisol, according to Dr. Siegford. The result? We look, sound, and may even smell different to dogs.

Not all dogs are as observant as Kinsey, though. Rolan Tripp, DVM, founder of AnimalBehavior.net and affiliate professor of applied animal behavior at Colorado State University, says every dog has some of Kinsey’ s people-whispering aptitude, “just as every human has some ability in sports.” But, he adds, “only a very few become superstars.” It’s Kinsey’s unique combination of genetics, temperament, and intelligence — all enhanced by training — that produces such exceptional results.
Eventually Kinsey went beyond impressing Stuart; the retriever taught her owner a very personal lesson. In 2001 Stuart’s father, a widower, broke his hip in a fall. Stuart, who is close to her dad, decided to take Kinsey with her while she stayed at his home in Idaho during his convalescence: “He needed her,” she says. Kinsey stayed by Stuart’s father’s side, assisting the human caregivers by fetching things for him and picking up his cane when he dropped it.

After his recovery Stuart’s dad moved into a house near where she and her husband live in Colorado. Two years later, however, her father was hospitalized following a massive stroke that partially paralyzed his right side, impaired his speech, and caused him to feel depressed.
When Stuart took Kinsey to the hospital to visit her dad, he immediately brightened. “Most of the time she stayed on my father’s bed, with her nose in his hand,” Stuart says. Slowly, he began to respond. “Kinsey actually started Dad’s physical therapy by placing one of her squeeze toys in his right hand,” Stuart marvels.

“I’ve seen the beauty of love,” she says of caring for her father, who has continued to recover. “And Kinsey has taught me the secret ingredient: selfless devotion.”
Originally published in Ladies’ Home Journal, October 2007.

Kinsey will return to update you soon. Thanks for your patience!