By: Paige Cline

We didn’t know what we were in for when this little white pup came trotting down the road in front of our house carrying a stick in her mouth.

She responded to Barbara’s special magic with animals and came right to her. Barb thought about the folk that had lost such a pretty dog. We kept her for a while and fed her and tried to find who she might belong to.

The days went by and nobody knew anything about where she might have come from. Probably had just been set off as many animals are.

Well, since it was impractical for us to try to keep her, Barb tried to find her a good home. There were several inquiries but, after the folks were interviewed as to where they lived and their experience with animals, they were tuned down. Unable to find a home that met my wife’s standards, we kept the dog who had already begun to make a place in our hearts.

We named her “Casey”, after my Granddad. She quickly went from a stray that we tried to give away, to a family member that no amount of money could buy.

Casey and Barbara got to be familiar sight as they walked the streets of the Kentucky Side and around the Riverside School, then across the foot bridge where Casey loved to stop and look at the waters of the Guyandotte.

Walking her buddy was among life’s greatest joys for Barbara and Casey alike. When Bard would mention that they might go for a walk in a bit, Casey’s eyes lit up, her tail and ears perked up and she could hardly control her anticipation. To give herself a little more time, Barb started telling me they were going for a W-A-L-K. Spelling it out helped for a while, but this extraordinary animal son figured it out.

As they walked around the neighborhood and on the playground, everybody knew Casey. She attracted kids like a magnet. Barb was much like a proud mother when people would tell her what a beautiful dog she had.

Casey was usually a quiet, almost humble, dog, But when she was in her back yard, she was a proud princess. She could pose and price with the best of em. She was in charge.

It broke my heart to see Barbara say goodbye for the last time at the crematory in Oak Hill. As she lay silent, as if peacefully sleeping, her loving “people” let her go to the rest she had earned.

Even in death, she appeared to be not unlike the perky white and tawny puppy with an old stick in her mouth and looking at us as if to say, “ God sent me here to spend the rest of my life with you guys.”

I don’t know how a pet could be loved any more than Casey was, but she gave as much as she got.

And who can argue with God?