Isadora of Quicksilver 05/05/1999-08/01/2008 (2)

Yesterday Gosia reminded me that I left one dog out of my Cast of K9 Characters. It's so hard for me to even think about Iz that I haven't been able to start writing about her. Every picture brings up both joyous and painful memories. It's been a month since she died and I still can't talk about it--her--without crying. I'm crying now, actually. So I think maybe it's time that I started telling you some stories about my beautiful Iz.

I listed Iz's date of birth as 5/5/1999. That's actually the day that I brought her home. She was seven and a half weeks old, so was actually born in late March, 1999. I was living in Salt Lake City then. May in northern Utah can be capricious but that particular week was sunny with promise of a hot summer.

Within weeks of bringing Harry Houdini into my life back in November of 1998, I knew that he needed a buddy. I decided that a female smooth fox terrier would be just the thing. After the first of the year, I contacted Harry's breeders and asked them if they were going to have another litter. As a matter of fact, they said, one of their bitches was pregnant. She was going to whelp in March. Great, I said, I wanted to get a female puppy if there was one.

I must have called them every other day starting in mid-March. At last the pups were whelped, but still too early to see them. Then they opened their eyes, but still too early. At last they were old enough for me to go see them. There were two females in the litter, all black and white pups out of a B&W sire and B&W dam. The sire was the same dog that sired Harry. He was pretty old by this time, perhaps 12 or so, and the family thought he didn't have it in him to breed again. Nature finds a way, believe me. The dam was actually out of the same dam as Harry but from an earlier breeding. So Harry was the half-brother and the uncle to this newest litter.

I told the guy I was dating at the time that I was just going out to Provo to "look" at the puppies. I wasn't going to bring one home, no, they aren't ready, I'll just have a look. Sure, he said, sure.

So I drive down to Provo.


The floor of the kitchen and dining room was entirely covered with newspaper and a short expen kept the pups out of the carpeted living room. The litter was boiling around this space, fighting and tumbling and grunting and running and jumping--little did I know that fox terriers basically continue this their entire lives. The family pointed out the two females. I watched them for a while, then crouched down and made a soft kissing noise. One of the females came running straight up to me, looked me right in the eye, then turned and ran back to beat the tar out of one of her siblings.


I want that one, I said.


And to Harry's infinite relief (he is not a leader), Iz walked into my backyard that beautiful afternoon in May, 1999, and said, not to worry, I'm in charge now.


Iz, we miss you terribly. You are a song our heart sings.