The Best of KB-L for 2012

April 2012

Context:

Mark Kunkel's song "Stuck inside of happy" hits all the right chords with we Kerry Blue lovers. But last month Mark and Jeanette lost their dear Dylan and some of the "happy" left their lives when he passed. Mark's touching tribute is our "Best of KBL" for April. His words echo the feelings that we have all experienced when we lose one of our Kerry friends. RIP Dylan. We will remember you every time we hear your song. checkmark

Post:

Date: April 10, 2012
From: Mark Kunkel
Subject: Our Dylan

Dylan Kunkel-Broyles, one month to the day shy of his 15th birthday, hobbled peacefully away from his tired body and ran hobbyhorsing into the arms of Love. He died as he had lived, surrounded by beauty and fondness and reminding us of dignity and grace and fierce compassion. In his last moments the three of us shared a chocolate brownie (with big chocolate chips), and as he lay in a favorite back yard spot on the grass moving into the mystery he nibbled shamelessly at the moss in a way that he has done lately. His passing was sharp, and sweet, and peaceful.
This is to thank him for his life. He was a blessing and a prayer. He was a friend in darkness and light. He lived absolutely truthfully. He was so very loving, and so very loved (after all, the “one true thing”). As we were waiting for the very kind gentle vet to come to our home Jeanette read us this:

Some people come into our lives and quickly go.
Some people stay for a while, and give us
A deeper understanding of what is truly important in this life.
They touch our souls.
We gain strength from the footprints they have left in our hearts,
And we will never be the same.

The last words Dylan heard (and who knows, maybe spoke) were “THANK YOU!” And thanks to all of you for your support and your companionship to us these last few days. Say a prayer and think a thought for Dylan, please, in celebration and gratitude of a long full good life, well and truly lived. Think of him playing “get the tennis ball” with Uncle O’Toole, cousin Tuxedo, sister Dasha, and others. Hear him saying “I’m waiting for you—you’ll be along soon enough” (click on “Hear a Kerry Bark”, and you’ll get to hear him).

Thank you, Dylan. We will never be the same.

And this, from our dear son-in-law, this morning:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H17edn_RZoY

LOVE.

Mark Kunkel

March 2012

Context:

Our March 2012 "best of KBL" is a post from Janet McCallen about her Kerry
Riley and his sidekick Dante, a Biewer terrier. Apparently Riley believes
that Dante is his personal animated stuffed toy and consequently when Dante
disappeared from their backyard, he made sure he sounded the alarm for Janet. checkmark

Post:

Date: March 6, 2012
From: Janet McCallen
Subject: Escape Artist

Okay, this story is primarily about my 7 lb Biewer Terrier Dante, but Riley
the KBT is the hero of the story, so I thought it fit on the list.

I've had the flu for the past week, and the boy dogs (Riley and Dante) have
driven me crazy yipping at the porch door to go out into the big back yard,
despite the fact that they have access to a smaller dog yard via doggy
door. Up, down, up, down... and when I feel yucky.

So when I felt better yesterday, I opened the gate between the two yards.
The bigger back yard isn't quite as escape-proof as the doggy yard, though
the metal fence was reinforced with chicken wire at the bottom when I got
the then 3-lb yipper. I've never had a problem with them in the big back
yard except having to get up and down to let them in and out.

This morning the boys scratched at the porch door to go out. I took them
to the doggy door and shooed them out that way. Everything's fine. I
return to the work I'm doing on my computer. After a while (maybe 20
minutes) I realize that Riley's barking incessantly at the back fence. I
go out and call him, and he comes in. Then I realize that I don't know
where Dante is. I call; no Dante. I search the entire house; no Dante. I
go back out with treats and call and call, finally going outside the fence
- and I see Dante running at me along the lake shore, muddy as all get out
(white dogs, unlike black dogs, DO show red mud).

I scoop him up with relief (I'd feared hawks had gotten him), take him in
and bathe him in the laundry sink to eliminate the red mud. I put him down
and go to the garage for the ties to fix whatever hole has appeared in the
chicken wire. When I come back, the two Kerries are in the yard - and no
Dante. So I find and fix the place he was able to push the chicken wire
away from the gate, and then start looking for him again. Again, he comes
racing at me along the lakeshore.... even muddier than the last time.

Once again, I bathe him, then we all stay outside in the back yard for a
while, with me hoping he'll reveal any OTHER escape routes. No such luck.
I can only hope I found the only one.

Now I'm sitting exhausted, thanking the good Lord that he didn't do this a
couple of days ago when I wouldn't have had the energy to deal. But as I
said, Riley's the real hero, since if he hadn't been barking, there's no
telling HOW long he would have been gone when I realized he was out. And
since Riley thinks that Dante is the toy I bought him, it was in his best
interests, too. :-)

--
Janet G. McCallen
Shannon, Riley& Dante
Hiawassee, GA

February 2012

Context:

When Sofia Ostrove lost her Kerry Dasha last month, it prompted this lovely email from
Mark Kunkel who discovered that his own dog, Dylan, is Dasha's sister.

Mark also wrote a great song about getting Dylan. You'll love it! checkmark

Post:

Date: February 15, 2012
From: Mark Kunkel
Subject: Circles of Love

Quoting KERRYBLUES-L automatic digest system
<LISTSERV@APPLE.EASE.LSOFT.COM>:

Dear all,

I contribute only rarely to the list, but read and benefit (and at
times laugh, and weep, over) the posts. This morning on awakening I
read this from Sofia regarding her beloved Dasha...

Date: Wed, 15 Feb 2012 00:31:29 -0500
From: Sofia Ostrov<bolevost@OPTONLINE.NET>
Subject: Dasha

Dear Kerry community,

Sadly, we had to say goodby to our Dasha at 10 am today. Her condition
deteriorated suddenly yesterday evening. She was ataxic, falling down,
unable to get up without help. This morning she wasn't able to maintain
standing position even for food. She was laying on her side, unable to
turn or change position on her own.

I had the response I always do for these sorts of posts, empathy,
gratitude, and all the rest. And then I read:

Dasha would be 15 years old in May.

and thought, "wow, that's funny. Our beloved Dylan (he of 'Stuck
Inside of Happy') will be 15 in May..."

and went on to read and (yes) weep at Sofia's loving tribute to this
wonderful companion of hers:

She had a full run of the house, never spoiled a thing. She had
never had a professional training, I trained her myself, but she
was a perfect dog...Dasha was a true terrier, hunting down anything
crossing our backyard. She was the loyal companion and the
bodyguard. Dasha gave us her unconditional love and we loved her
back.

and I wept some more and thought, "That surely sounds like our Dylan.
Unconditional love, and love back. Man, I'll miss him when he takes
that trip. And what a coincidence that he and Dasha are about the same
age!"

and then I read:

Her name was Garryowen Dasha from Dam Garryowens Echo of Kerrageen and
Sire CH Goodspisce Teddy McClaire. She was just Dasha, Dashka, Dashunka,
Kerry Bluma for us. Dasha was a part of our family. She is already missed.
There is no replacement exist for her. It will take time to get used to not
having her around.

Well, now I'm truly awash in tears. Dasha was Dylan's sister, and it
sounds like they are true siblings in spirit. He is silver and
thin-coated and slow to get up, and no longer trembles at the thunder
he can no longer hear, and bumps into doorways even in our familiar
and safe house, but oh, how he is loved. And how he has loved.

How grateful I am for these wonderful companions. Thanks, Margaret
McDonough, for putting a blue collar on Dylan and putting him on the
plane all those wonderful years ago. Thanks, Sofia, for sharing your
memories. Thanks, Dasha and Dylan, for your examples to us.

Mark and Jeanette and Dylan (who has spent the last three years loving
and being loved by four CATS, and who just followed me out to the
kitchen to see what all the crying is about)

Mark Kunkle's Dylan in 2005

January 2012

Context:

This "question of the week" - the strangest thing my dog ever almost ate - brought many interesting responses. From bones to bras, it would seem that our dogs have sampled just about everything they've encountered. Cindy Radamaker's Kerry Merlin would appear to have a taste for fowl as she recounts in her January post, our "best of" for the month! checkmark

Post:

Date: January 8, 2012
From: Cindy Radamaker
Subject: QOTW Strangest thing my dog ever almost ate

My old Kerry, Merlin, was a true Irish charmer full of p*ss and vinegar; never a dull moment with him in the house. So when he got quiet, you knew it would be best to check in on him. One Sunday morning, he and Ani, my more sedate Kerry girl, were out sunning themselves on the porch. It was quiet... a bit too quiet. My husband went out to check on the two hooligans. Ani came running up for a quick pat, but Merlin just showed his back. Kurt called to the boy, and all he did was hunch his shoulders a bit more and dropped his head. Kurt moved to Merlin's head, where a guilty eye appeared out from his long eyelashes. Peeking out from his beautiful fall, just underneath his nose, was a single bright red feather. Kurt pried open the jaws of death, those jaws could crush a marrow bone in minutes flat, and out popped a wet, bedraggled Cardinal. Not harmed in the least, and who knows how long Merlin had been holding that bird in his mouth. I don't think he knew what to do with it! Merlin had dispatched many wood rats, and an opossum or two, but the fluttering of the bird must have confused him. Anyway, the bird managed to live another day and probably thought twice about getting too close to the dogs again.

Now Ani, she figured out how to open my bird cage and ate one of my parakeets. She knew how to make a meal out of a feathered friend.

Cindy Radamaker
Scottsdale, AZ

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