Now what? That’s the question we asked ourselves the very day we took her home and for weeks thereafter. Cedar was bred and started by a pro in Idaho. She was seven months old when I picked her up at the airport and she was already more skilled than you might expect for a retriever of her age. My anticipation was high that I would have her ready for the duck season four months away.

But she came with an issue. Cedar wasn’t socialized as a puppy. Maybe it was made even worse by some genetic shortcoming who knows; but she was basically afraid of people. Not what you would expect from a Lab. We questioned sending her back but ultimately felt we were dog people enough that we could make it work. You see, as trying as it was, when she came into our home she became a Bellistri.

Cedar was a gentle soul filled with sweetness and innocence. Her tender heart craved love and eventually gave love back. As much as we tried to make it easy for her, she tried to make it easy for us. She became content. She was happy. How often Ruth would say, “Look at Cedar, she’s smiling.”  And we would smile with her, appreciating how far we all had come.

But Cedar had a dual purpose heart and became a formidable gun dog.  Eager to learn. Easy to teach. No matter the difficulty of the challenge, her strong heart was all in. The most powerful swimmer of all my dogs. Obedient and determined. Wanting to please and wanting to succeed. With help from my friend and pro trainer Dave Trahan, Cedar was a ‘finished’ retriever at three years old. Whenever she was at my side, training or hunting, I had fun.  She had fun. We were a good team.  It’s a bond only truly understood by those who live the experience.

But life continued to send stuff her way. A serious Cruciate Ligament injury at four years old. The first surgery failed, and failed quickly.  Now what?

Under the guidance of Dr. Mike Johnson, the course of action was a second surgery to remove the faulty repair performed by the first doctor and clean out the resulting infection. And finally, a third surgery to do it right. A year-plus of surgeries and two years-plus of rest and confinement; all the while, stringent rehab.

Once again, Ruth and I dedicated ourselves to Cedar because although bad things continued in an attempt to define her life, we were determined otherwise. Our simple goal was just quality of life and to regain her mobility. But our unwavering commitment, along with Cedar’s inspiring ability to persevere, eventually put her back in the duck blind.

Who would have thunk it?

Once again she ran and swam and followed her nose through the marsh. She smiled. I laughed. It was without question one of the most rewarding series of experiences in my life.

But then, as they both always do, age crept up and the after effects of such surgeries settled in and Cedar slowly declined. She pretty much stopped smiling and the inevitable became the unavoidable. Yesterday, just shy of her turning 13, we took Cedar to the vet for the last time.

Now what?