Abby Fontaine

I just heard that Abby passed away in April of this year. Abby came into my life in 2004. For those that do not know the story, I will tell it:

Leslie, my girl friend at the time, and I walked into a Petco in our home town in California. I don’t even know why, but there we were in Petco for no good reason… we had no pets. It was adoption weekend and I suppose I got the puppy-dog eyes from Leslie to go in and see what was happening. It didn’t take long before Leslie was crouched at a cage in the center of dozens of other cages. Inside the cage was a brown female Weimarander/Hound/Lab mix. She was already 4 years old and had been adopted and returned twice. Twice! Leslie and this dog made an immediate connection and she wanted her badly, but we lived in an apartment.  We left the store that day, Leslie pouting and empty handed.

A few days later I caved in, and gave Leslie my blessing to get a dog. We adopted a Black Lab who was very sick. Over a few weeks, we slowly brought this Lab back into good health, but had to return her as she turned out to be aggressive towards kids (Timmy was 6 years old). We talked with the same lady that was at the adoption that day at Petco and Leslie was informed that Abby did in fact get adopted by an elderly couple. Leslie left her contact information with the lady, and even called numerous times over the next few months to check in.

4 months after our first sighting of Abby, the phone rang. It was that lady from the SPCA informing Leslie that Abby had been returned again! Abby had an over anxious bladder. She would pee (a lot) when she was scared or excited. A dog this size would ruin a lot of carpet in very short order, but that didn’t stop Leslie.

Leslie immediately adopted Abby over the phone, going as far as to go get her the very next morning. I don’t believe we got any sleep that night. Over the next 6 months Leslie worked with Abby to reduce the peeing; we simply stood outside, opened the door, and let Abby pee all over the lawn instead of in the house. Simple huh? And it worked so well that within a year, Abby stopped peeing all together.

Leslie and I went our separate ways in life and Abby went with Leslie (rightfully so). They both moved up to Oregon where Leslie still lives, now happily married. Abby died on April 22, 2013 at the age of 13. She led a very, very happy life those last 9 years which I’m sure made up for the first 4 year ten-fold. She was a wonderful dog, full of spirit and defiance (as Weimaranders go). She could run like the wind and loved, just loved, her squeaky rubber chicken. Her final 5 years she had a pet of her own; a full fledged hound named Lucille.

RIP Abby