| Echo |
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| Echo's First Day Home |
| Echo is my sixth Irish Water Spaniel, and my last. I love the breed dearly, but I've had more heartache with them, than I can take anymore. They have been so inbred, that they have all kinds of problems. Out of six, only one has lived to be older than six, and she was Echo's aunt, Maudeen. I named Echo, thinking that she would be an "Echo" of Maudeen - the love of my life! I wish I could say that she has lived up to her name, but it wouldn't be the truth. Echo came from the Midwest, and had to be shipped to me. I bought her sight un-seen - hoping that she'd be like Maudeen, but she is the farthest thing from her! I have learned a great lesson from these "Brown Clowns", and will never buy another dog without seeing it, and it's parents, in person. Echo is a "Special Needs Dog" - kind of like a retarded child. I don't think that there's another person on this earth who would, or could live with her! We've been through three Obedience Classes, and she still can't understand what "No" means. A few weeks after she arrived in California, I received a "Baby Book" from her breeders. On the first page, there is an index card with all of her birth information. It had the date, time, weight, and something about her receiving mouth to mouth resuscitation, and a drug was used to bring her back to life. Since I already had her, and she had wormed her way into my heart, I chose to ignore it. The first signs of something being wrong were very subtle, and hard to even evaluate. She was a little puppy, but there is a terrible monster inside of her. She would bite my arms and hands until they were covered in blood. I deluded myself into thinking that it was just "Puppy Stuff", but it never eased up - it just got worse. She got along great with Maudeen, but could never settle down long enough to even get a picture of the two of them together. She doesn't like to be hugged, held, brushed, or handled in any way. Life is on her terms, and will be that way, until she meets up with the other five of my girls. |
| Echo at Seven Months |
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| In this picture, Echo was actually trying to bite my fingers off. There wasn't a day that went by, when she didn't cause my hands to bleed. I thought it would stop, after she lost all of her baby teeth, but I was wrong. She went from my hands, onto bigger and better things. She is the first dog I've ever had, who can't sleep with me. I tried for months to get her to calm down at night, and just when I thought I had her settled down, she almost drowned me. I was in a nice, peaceful sleep, when I woke up to the feeling of wet legs. My first thought was that she had peed on me - wrong again! While I was sleeping, she had chewed through all of my sheets and blankets, and made some nice big holes in my waterbed. By the time I was wet enough to be awakened by it, half of the mattress was drained onto the floor. I was relieved that she hadn't peed on me, but she had ruined my bed. When I got up, and turned the lights on, I found three of her baby teeth - stuck in the vinyl mattress. Needless to say, that was the end of my waterbed days! It was also the last time she ever slept with me. I had to go out and buy a new bed, so she was beginning to be a very expensive little dog to keep. No sooner did I get the bed, when she pulled her next expensive stunt. I was gardening in the yard, and she jumped up from behind me. All I felt were her paws hitting my back, and her teeth caught in my hair. There was so much blood on my arm and pants, that I started to panic. I thought that she had hurt herself, and started checking her mouth, and paws. I suddenly felt pain in my ear, and put my hand up to it. My gold earring was gone, and my earlobe was torn. The blood was gushing out of me, and she was running around the yard like a nutcase. I looked everywhere for that earring, but I couldn't find it. I got so worried about it being stuck in her intestine, that I rushed her to the vet for x rays. Sure enough, there was my earring. The vet and I talked about the possibility of there being any danger to her, but he said that it was lodged in a perfect spot, and to just watch her poops for it. He also told me that it might never come out, and that she wouldn't ever be bothered by it. This dog has a cast iron stomach - the earring never came out, and she has since ingested twenty two Malibu Lights - bulbs and all. You should have seen her poop - it was glistening in the sun for days. Every day is a new adventure with her poop. I never know what's going to be in there from day to day. She once got hold of something covered in foil - now, that poop was a work of art! It was a perfectly shaped turd, only it was solid foil. I was sure that it must have torn her little butt to shreds, but she was fine. |
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| Full Grown Echo |
| I wish I could say that she's become more mellow with age, but I don't think it's going to happen! She's a thief from hell, and can't be loose in the house for a second. Echo will be five in May of this year, and will probably live to see another twelve birthdays, easily. With the other ones, at this age, I was scared that each day would be their last. With Echo, I'm scared that she will make a record in the book of Irish Water Spaniels. She looks like a dwarf, and her face hasn't aged since she was six months old. She weighs about half of what the standard calls for in a female, and her mind is still like a six week old puppy. She's been one hell of a lesson in patience, but she's with me for the rest of her life - if she doesn't find a way to kill me first! She spends her days, playing with Tattoo, and has tried to corrupt him with every bad habit she has. I love her, but she is my last Water Spaniel. Echo died in May, 2000 from seizures. She will always be in my heart, and I will miss having IWS - she was my last one. |
| Echo Is At The Bridge |
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