Nittany Beagle Rescue - In Memory

Katie Rose

Katie Rose (October 27, 1999-May 4, 2014) was smart, willful, and loving. The Roses loved her to pieces, and we will always love her!
 
Beginning with her conception, Katie was no ordinary dog. Her father, a Rottweiler, got Trina the Beagle pregnant through the cage at the PAWS shelter. There were six wild and raucous puppies, who were bigger than Trina when we first saw them tearing around at three months old.
 
Katie came to live with us because of Jon. She was in truth Jon's dog, and specifically, the Bar Mitzvah dog. The winter before Jon's Bar Mitzvah, he saw Katie sitting in a crate at the Wiscoy pet store, waiting for adoption. Of course, he had to have the already monstrous-sized puppy. You can imagine what the deal was: if he studied his Hebrew, he could have the dog. And so she came to our house.
 
Over the years, she had multiple canine "companions" (note the quotation marks). She wanted to be the alpha dog, and Lucy, Wally, and Winston all lost blood - and Winnie part of his ear - to her domineering ways. We protected the four-legged family members as best as possible with a system of crates and protocols. We learned how to treat dog bites incurred by her human friends breaking up fights.
 
Eventually, as Katie aged and also lost her vision, she and Winnie became friends. They sat together on the couch near the den door waiting for their family to return. Winnie was the lookout, and Katie took her cues from him. Whether we had gone to campus for an hour or to Europe for a week, they were at the window together, waiting and ready to jump down and move to their favorite room, the kitchen, for a dog biscuit.
 
It was in the kitchen that Katie acquired most notoriety. She loved to eat. We should have seen what was coming when she pulled a loaf of bread off a shelf and ate the whole thing. Pretty soon, she learned to open the fridge and empty it of food. We installed a marine lock, which we inconsistently remembered to secure. After reflecting on what kind of fridge was Katie-proof, we bought one with a sliding freezer door on the bottom. Note, though, that Katie also considered couches a food group. One day she ripped a couch to shreds, and we were understandably skeptical when the furniture salesman promised that its replacement was indestructible.
 
For such a determined lady, she endured many health problems. She lost her vision over a period of about six days when she was about eight years old. She had a thyroid condition. She had an anal gland removed. She had psychosomatic GI problems. Because she was blind, she jumped off a bed into a wall about a foot away and injured her neck. She had neurological degeneration affecting her spine and legs. She also had an amazing capacity to bounce back. This was her willfulness and her intense loyalty to her family. She wanted to be our best friend.
 
It was also due to amazing care by our conscientious vets: Dr. Lennie Rae Vangorder, Dr. Renee Calvert, and the staffs of Cornell Vet School and CP Vets. Amy Smith also has been the perfect pet sitter over many years: patient, thoughtful, and compassionate. Mary Miles spent a memorable night pampering Katie when Winnie was at Cornell Vet School. Many thanks!
 
In recent years, after Ellie and then Jon moved out, Katie and Winnie began a (relatively) quiet life with Mom. The three of us worked, ate, and walked - pretty much in that order. She and Winnie slept in my study during my many hours at my desk. As I've written recently about the emotions of animals, they have been my research assistants - and my very best friends.
 
Katie gave us a great gift of happiness, because she showed a tenacious love of life and included us in her passion. Goodbye Katie. Love, Annie, Winnie, and the human Roses and Farrells