The gift of dogs

Dogs bring so much into our lives that I sometimes wonder how we can ever repay them. Clementine was like a gift.

When our kids were growing up, we had a wonderful chocolate Lab. When she developed diabetes in her later years, we gave her insulin injections twice daily. It was a challenge, but we loved her. After she died, we spent 7 years debating what kind of dog we wanted next. Another Lab? A rescue? Don liked big dogs. I wanted something smaller.

Then Clementine came into our lives. You could call her a rescue of sorts. Please indulge me while I share her story.

From Chaos to Companion

We adopted Clemmie in March, 2012 from neighbors who’d bought her on impulse at the Farmer’s Market. I don’t advise anyone doing this. Apparently she was unmanageable, which happens when humans don’t understand a puppy’s needs, or the breed. At least the neighbors were smart enough to know the poor dog, at age one, deserved better. We gladly brought her into our home.

A week later, their young son worriedly asked me if Clementine was being “bad.” I didn’t know how to answer. Okay, so she chewed the rung of my dining room table. And the corner of my wool rug. And my granddaughter’s Skipper doll. But that’s typical pup behavior, not naughtiness. I mean, as a puppy our Lab ran through the screen door and chewed my prescription sunglasses. That’s what pups do. I blamed myself for not watching Clementine.

Proof That the ‘Worst’ Dogs Make the Best Friends

Clem typified a smart herding dog. Such a dog can run your household. Clementine tried running ours by barking or herding us. Our daughter and granddaughter, then 4, lived with us then, and Clem especially wanted to boss little Lil around. We consulted a trainer, Marc from Canine Resolution, who taught us how to change the dynamics: Keep her off furniture (you don’t want a bossy dog sitting eye level with you); make her sit and wait for meals; and make sure the human always goes out the door first, never the dog. We followed all his advice, as hard as it was to push her off the couch. It worked! Soon she knew her place, learned to trust us, and relaxed into our routine.

We also taught Lil to be gentle with Clementine, who did not like big hugs or surprises, like loud noises or being jumped at. The relationship between them blossomed and Clem grew to trust all children.

She rescued us

Clementine helped us to feel joy again after the suicide of our eldest son five months prior. She gave us something positive to focus on. We taught her tricks and games. We played with her. We walked her every single day, sometimes twice, through our neighborhood, the city park, the woods, and downtown.

Astonishingly, we discovered people who lived blocks from us recognized her. They would ask, “Oh! Is that Clementine?” Apparently she ran away from her previous owners so often that everyone knew her.

I also walked her through our city cemetery, even though pets aren’t allowed. I discovered many children, from babies to adults, had been buried with their parents. I felt feel less alone in my grief.

Queen Clementine had rules

We fell in love with the breed and eventually got another corgi. Clementine at best tolerated Cowboy. When he annoyed her, she would chase him around until she’d herded him into the corner. He definitely learned respect.

My daughter often brings her family’s dogs, a large mixed breed and a mini Australian Shepherd, to the house. Even though Clem was the smallest of the three, including Cowboy, she set the rules. No horseplay. She put up with their roughhousing for a while, and then she would walk right into the middle of the trio, head low, and bark once or twice, like a true herder. They immediately scattered.

Learning trust again later

When she was almost 12, Clementine developed Cushing’s disease, a kidney/protein issue and her arthritis worsened. She enjoyed short walks with me and Cowboy, but could no longer manage our stairs. The problem was she did not like to be picked up and carried. Not at all. She even got cagey about being lifted into the car, even if it meant a trip to the city park or Innovation Hills. It took a while before she trusted me to pick her up and carry her, but eventually she did. I think she rather enjoyed her rides.

Every dog story starts with smiles and ends with tears

When Clementine was a month shy of 13 in 2024, she developed pancreatitis and the vet found a tumor on her spleen. Nothing good comes from a tumor. We didn’t want to put her through surgery. Gosh, the poor girl already took so much medication. Then she stopped eating. Fortunately, she had enough pain meds that she didn’t show signs of being in pain. She just looked tired. We knew it was time. We called Lap of Love on February 8, 2024 for an at-home euthanasia.

I considered it a privilege to care for her in her senior years. This is how we repay our pets for their devotion to us.

I miss carrying her warm little body up and down the stairs, burying my face in her fur, talking to her, and seeing the trust in her eyes. I walked past her empty bed the other day and burst into tears.

Cowboy is still looking for her.

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More posts about Clementine and corgis:
Get a Corgi, Never Shower Alone
Breaking the Rules, our walks through Avon Cemetery
A Corgi Halloween
How to De-Skunk a Dog
Love and Loss on Labor Day
Happy Birthday Clementine
Totally Shredded
Are you sure you want a corgi?
Puppy Love is real
A Plural Primer
Puppy Update

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Thank you for visiting.
Linda K. Sienkiewicz is a writer, poet, and artist
Books: In the Context of Love | Gordy and the Ghost Crab | Sleepwalker
New novel,  Love and Other Incurable Ailments, coming fall 2026 from Regal House Publishing
Connect with Linda on social media: LinkTree