My dog Carmel ~ 1990-2006

My parents had to put our golden retriever Carmel to sleep this week. She was 16 1/2, and was the oldest retriever our neighborhood vet had ever personally treated.

My parents got her for me when I was ten - I had been lobbying for a big dog that I could play with in the yard. They relented on the condition that I would faithfully pick up after her once a week - an easy promise for a ten-year-old. We bought her from a breeder nearby, and when eight-week-old Carmel picked up a huge stick and stumbled across the yard to give it to me, I was in love. She was a good puppy, endlessly enthusiastic. I remember her jumping up at the kitchen table to give me a kiss one night and spilling a boiling bowl of soup onto my lap.

Pippi, our somewhat older Bichon Frise, was clearly put out when Carmel first arrived, and would growl when the impudent puppy approached the food dish or sleeping pad. Pippi wisely changed her mind when Carmel grew to five times her size, and they became the best of friends. Their favorite pastime was devising Houdini-like escapes from the side yard, and roaming around the neighborhood together. They were clearly a team - both sets of paws were invariably muddy from digging, and they would always return home together, somewhat sheepish, but looking exhilarated. Pippi and Carmel slept every night curled up together, and Pippi always had a clean, wet spot on her neck that Carmel would lick while they were cuddled up.

My parents let me take Carmel through training class and we eventually got her to understand "sit" and "down", but "stay" was just not in her nature. Wherever we were was where she wanted to be, and doggone it if she wasn't going to try to get to us. She was a voracious licker, and she absolutely reveled in having her belly rubbed. She was a good athletic dog, too, which probably contributed to her longevity. I used to set up obstacle courses with some other girls in our neighborhood and we would have dog races - Carmel always won. She would chase a ball, or a Frisbee, or anything else you would throw for her. Once we caught her pushing balls off the front deck and then racing down to the yard to retrieve them herself.

Carmel was every bit the exuberant puppy for about 14 of her 16 years, when she finally decided it was time to mellow into a quiet, middle-aged lady. She had arthritis by this time, but was endlessly tolerant of all of my nieces and nephews petting and combing her, and taking her on walks. When someone poked a little too hard or pulled a tail, she would look at them balefully, but she was mostly just content to be on the receiving end of their love and attention.

She was a wonderful dog, and she will be missed by the whole Ebel family this holiday season.