We were opening some old art books to give to Bishop Gibbons today when this photo fell out.
It is a rare photo of young Rose (I didn’t take pictures then) just after I moved to the first Bedlam Farm.
I got Rose when I lived in Montclair, N.J., and brought her to the first Bedlam Farm when I bought it. We were alone up there together for six years.
Rose was playful and a little goofy as a puppy, but as her work on the farm developed, she grew more serious and focused.
She was never much for playing and didn’t like being cuddled. She never slept in the same room as me, or on the bed, even though there was lots of space.
She did watch me like a hawk.
Soon after we moved to the farm, I was up in the pasture, and a ram came up behind me and knocked me into a fence pole. I was stunned, and there was lots of blood, and my glasses broke on the ground, and he kept coming after me.
I couldn’t see around me.
Rose was down in the dog kennel a couple of hundred yards away, and I couldn’t see her begin to frantically dig a hole under the fence big enough for her to crawl out. I did call out for her.
As I tried to duck the ram, my eyes were covered in blood; Rose came flying up the hill and attached herself to the stunned ram’s genitals.
The ram screamed and spun around and around, but Rose wouldn’t let go. He tore down the mountain, and she fell off but stayed between him and me until I got out of the pasture.
He didn’t come near me again.
Rose seemed to sense that I didn’t know what I was doing on the farm, and since she did know what she was doing, she sort of managed the farm, kept things in check, watched over the sheep closely, and stayed within a few feet of me, except at night, when she stayed by a rear window to watch the pasture.
If a lamb were born, Rose would come into my bedroom and nip at my ear until I got up and went outside. She’d do the same thing if I fell on the ice until I got up.
I’m happy to have this photo of her; I don’t know who took it. I’m putting it in my office next to the small urn holding her ashes.
Off to Bishop Gibbons now to meet Killian, a young writer at the school looking for a mentor. I’m in if he wants me.
I just finished reading Rose In A Storm. — I see how your Rose is the one who taught you how dogs, especially working dogs, think. Your books always pull me in on page one.
I so love to hear your stories about Rose! She was so magnificent. Thank you!
I’ve followed your blog for years, and many of the best and heartwarming posts are about the dogs in your life. You have had wonderful ones for sure. I had the pleasure of meeting Red. He had a presence that I really couldn’t put my finger on, but I knew he was special. From what you have written about Rose, she seems to have been in a class by herself. How fortunate you are to have been blessed with so many wonderful companions.
I am very blessed, Red was also a remarkable dog…
What can you say. Rose was remarkable. All that hard wired into her.
How wonderful to have known and loved Rose.
Rose was a beauty. I always loved that heart on her forehead. Dr. Patricia McConnell has an interesting blog this week about dogs being “camera shy”. They don’t like big dark lenses being pointed at them … not even iPhones. It supposedly reminds them of a predator’s dilated pupils. Many turn away from the camera. None of your dogs over the years look like they minded having their picture taken. Have you ever had an issue with that? Just wondering.
I have had issues with it, they have to be trained to like it…I did this by putting treats on top of the camera and then giving them to the dogs after the photo was taken..sometimes I put the treats on top of my head…
What a find!!this photo, so precious, Rose and your memories of her. Not tucked away any longer. You have suggested the perfect place for her photo to be displayed, perhaps in a simple frame.
Thanks Grandma, it is a good place..
I’m confused. I remember when Rose died. thought you buried her on the hill at the original Bedlam Farm.
I am so glad you found that beautiful photo of her. Nice, too, that you have the urn. Warm memories.
Orson was buried on the hill, not Rose..
What a lovely find – serenedipity.
Wonderful picture of the young Rose and a wonderful story of her intelligence and bravery. You were lucky to have her at that time of your life when you really needed her.
The way the sun backlights her it is like she has an aura. Hard to imagine you and her at the first Bedlam Farm alone for six years. The photo is such a gift.
Someone should invent a RoseClamp for women everywhere.
https://images.search.yahoo.com/search/images;_ylt=Awr93b39HBFjl04FsxeJzbkF;_ylu=c2VjA3NlYXJjaARzbGsDYnV0dG9u;_ylc=X1MDOTYwNjI4NTcEX3IDMgRhY3RuA2NsawRjc3JjcHZpZANnX3JGTERFeU55N0hPWC50WF90dUJRQ2ZNVEE0TGdBQUFBRGdsckU4BGZyA21jYWZlZQRmcjIDc2EtZ3AEZ3ByaWQDY2ZCRkFtRUZSaXFJOTlXWlU5M2ltQQRuX3N1Z2cDMARvcmlnaW4DaW1hZ2VzLnNlYXJjaC55YWhvby5jb20EcG9zAzAEcHFzdHIDBHBxc3RybAMEcXN0cmwDNDkEcXVlcnkDY2FzdHJhdGluZyUyMGNsYW1wJTIwd2l0aCUyMHRlZXRoJTIwZm9yJTIwYW5pbWFscwR0X3N0bXADMTY2MjA2NjMyNw–?p=castrating+clamp+with+teeth+for+animals&fr=mcafee&fr2=sb-top-images.search&ei=UTF-8&x=wrt&type=E210US105G0
Oh, this almost made me tear up, seeing dear Rose…….the dog that *had your back* fiercely in so many ways for so many years. What a gift to have found this photo……. and to cherish the relationship you had. She is definitely a spirit to be celebrated…..always
Susan M
My granddaughter and I loved Rose though we never met her–such is the power of dogs and your writing about them. She is grown now, 15 years old, so I don’t see her as often and she is busy being a teen but I treasure my memories of us reading about and loving your wonderful Rose.
I have learned so much about my first dog Shiba from your writings.
This also apples to Blue, the dog we have now.
Going Home, read a few years before the need, held me together when Shiba was no longer on Earth.
I have given several copies of that book away.
Thank you so much for your writing, Jon Katz.
I have wanted to write you for some time now that I found you again. I read all of your dog books but had to quit as I couldn’t tolerate the stories when the dogs died. I thought you should put a banner across your book cover, “Dog dies” so I would know to stay away. They caused me to grieve for days. This most recent picture of Rose is a treasure.
Melinda, I appreciate your sensitivity and love for dogs, but we have very different ideas about mourning them, and I’m afraid I can’t accommodate yours or agree to your request.
Dogs live shorter lives than we do, and a part of loving them is accepting that, not hiding from it, at least for me.
I have three beautiful dogs, and they will die if I don’t do it first. Losing them is an integral part of loving them for me.
And I will write about it when it happens. Love ain’t free. My choice is to celebrate my life with them, not just mourn them.
I won’t be posting warnings; I accept life as it comes to me. Thanks for following my work.
I do grasp how you feel and don’t wish to add to your issues.
So if you don’t ever want to deal with the death of dogs, this may not be the right place for you.
Rose in a Storm got delivered yesterday afternoon and well, I got no work done after that. Beautifully done, the human and dog parts woven expertly together, was moved especially at the end, thank you Jon