My home is so quiet.
No pet rushing to meet me when I’ve been out for a long time, such as five minutes. None begging for treats or playtime. None making me laugh at their antics. None consoling me when I am sad.
For the first time since 1992, I have no dogs. For the first time since 1981, I have no pets at all.
I grew up with dogs and cats, so when I got my first home after college, I wanted one of my own. Luckily, my pets’ mostly long lives overlapped: Luke, a border collie mix; Katrina, a calico cat; Shiona, a border terrier; Max, a Dalmatian; Sheba, a tortoiseshell cat; and Connor, a border terrier.
My mom had taught our dogs when I was young, so Luke and I learned the basics together in an obedience class. Shiona and Max were my first entrants in dog sports, competing in obedience, rally, agility and, for Shiona, earthdog.
I worked on learning how to train these intelligent dogs better, eventually moving to use of positive reinforcement. You encourage an animal or human to offer a variety of actions, mark the action you want and reward them. Then you gradually raise the criteria, and later add a word for the action and reward only when they follow that cue. For example, I rewarded a dog for staying near me while I walked, then for being on my left side, then in line with my hips, then I added the word “heel.” Zoos use this method for training various behaviors as well.
Connor was born in Ithaca, New York on June 11, 2009, and his breeders, Marg and Amanda Pough, gave him a head start by teaching him basics, such as coming when called. He also benefited from my years of learning from my training mistakes and became my first dog who walked from the start without pulling on the leash.
With his willingness to try new things, he raced with his brother Elvin Tolchin of Penfield at a Genesee Valley Hunt Club terrier race; we tried a new sport, flyball; and even in his old age he learned tricks I’d never taught before.
But most of the benefits were mine. Connor was easygoing and joyful, which our veterinarian believed extended Max’s life. Connor’s loving attention got me through personal crises, the COVID-19 isolation and weeks of pain when I broke an ankle. On walks or in the office, he would befriend people.
Then this spring, he was diagnosed with cancer, and he died six days before his 16th birthday.
I know I was lucky Connor lived so long, but the pain of his loss overwhelms me sometimes. Eventually, I plan to get another dog, but not until I have healed.
Meanwhile, I hope my bighearted Connor is playing with his predecessors at a heavenly Rainbow Bridge, cuddling with people who didn’t have enough love in their lives, and waiting for me.
Laura Nichols, a longtime Democrat and Chronicle journalist, is a planner for the printed newspaper.
