Farewell, Ivy Scarlett, May You Go With God by Molly MacDonald

When I returned to writing an Inkspots column five years ago, after quite a long hiatus, it was for two reasons:

I felt if I could make a few people smile, or even chuckle, that would help justify my taking up space on this planet;
Bing had just died and I needed to fill my time.

Thus, I will apologize ahead of time that purpose No. 1 isn’t going to happen with this column.

Last week, I had to have my German Shepherd, Ivy Scarlett, put down. She was in congestive heart failure and her legs were giving out on her. Our vet came to the house, so she died peacefully on her own turf with me by her side.

Bing and I adopted Ivy 12 years ago from a German Shepherd rescue organization. She had an interesting back story. Abandoned in the Ames/Nevada area as a puppy, she was eventually picked up and brought to a shelter in Nevada. The staff there fell in love with her and named her Ivy. To their horror, a big, burly man came to the shelter, spotted Ivy, and announced, “I want that dog – I’ll chain her up in my front yard and nobody will bother me!” The staff told the man he’d have to wait until the next day to take her, so he left, vowing to return first thing in the morning.

The staff quickly called the German Shepherd Rescue Society and asked if they had room in their string of foster-care homes for Ivy. Luckily, a member of the organization happened to be in Ames that evening and agreed to drive over and get Ivy Scarlett. When the staff had called, they were under the mistaken impression that the rescue organization took only purebred German Shepherds, so they told them that Ivy was a purebred, conveniently ignoring the fact that the vet who had examined her marked down her breed as German Shepherd/Husky.

The staff was that determined to get Ivy to a safe place, away from Burly Man.

Ivy Scarlett was fostered on a beautiful acreage north of Mason City. Bing and I found her picture on the rescue website, petitioned to adopt her and after several interviews and extensive paperwork (they even called all three of the people we put down for personal references), she was ours.

We have always had big dogs in our lives, and each one was loved and special. Ivy was no exception. She entertained us with her shenanigans, some of which weren’t exactly entertaining, to wit:

She once chewed up a seat belt in our car when Bing and I tarried too long in a coffee shop and she apparently got bored waiting for us to return and drive her around some more.
She chewed a hole in the living room carpet trying to get to whatever goody she thought was there.
She ran into me and broke my knee when she was having a wonderful time chasing circles around me.

I take comfort knowing Ivy Scarlett is with Bing now. I suppose there are some people who don’t think pets go to heaven. Well, they’re wrong. God gave us pets for a reason, to provide us with unconditional love, and He would never think of breaking that bond in the next life. That’s my theological treatise for today.

In time, I will get another dog, not to replace Ivy Scarlett, but to carry on a legacy, just like her predecessors.