Clean Run - August 2011 - 5

Editorializing…
Why Does the Sun Go On Shining?
By Jim Peterson

It’s Friday, April 9, and Cody and I are off to an AKC agility trial where I’ll spend some quality time with my buddy. We’re in 4th place in the nation and with more points this weekend, we’ll be on our way to securing one of the five highly coveted spots at the AKC Agility Invitational. I’m searching for some music on the radio and I’ve stumbled on an oldies station when I hear a 1964 classic heartbreaker by Skeeter Davis: Why does the sun go on shining Why do these eyes of mine cry Don’t they know it’s the end of the world It ended when you said goodbye Although it’s an emotional song, I’m more focused on the melody and Skeeter’s gorgeous voice than I am the lyrical content. In fact at this moment, I’m pretty sure life doesn’t get any better than this. I picked Cody out of his litter of 11 Flat-Coated Retriever puppies in Connecticut. I zeroed in on one or two dogs out of the group and following some puppy testing, my wife Connie and I settled on “Blue Boy.” We named him Cody, after the legendary Wild Bill Cody, because he turned out to be a real hellion at a very early age. He had boundless energy and could not be exhausted. It soon became apparent that I needed an outlet for Cody’s energy. I remember falling asleep on the couch while watching ESPN one night and waking up at 1:00 a.m. to a dog agility trial. I thought it looked like fun, so I started him in the sport at age four. Like most dogs, he was tentative at first, but with time he grew to love it. We started competing after one year of training. I fell in love with this sport as much as Cody did. It is a competitive event at speed, right up my alley, and it also provided a positive offset to my stressful career. But more than anything, it was the intense relationship agility built between us. By spending more time with Cody, I saw more clearly his sense of humor, intelligence, loyalty, purity, and positive spirit. Agility gave us the opportunity to work together as a team, and became the manifestation of our close personal relationship. Cody’s agility career flourished. He received his MACH, finished in the top 28% of 244 competitors at the AKC Nationals, was ranked as the #4 Flat-Coated Retriever in the nation, and was invited to the AKC Agility Invitational later that year.

Cody ran his fastest time ever, 5.5 yards per second, on a twisty Jumpers course on April 3. Then on April 9, I put Cody on the start line, took my lead-out, and called him to me for our first run of the day. Cody started out very slowly and stopped after a few obstacles, which was highly unusual. He stopped right in front of a jump and as he looked at me, his eyes said, “I cannot do it Dad.” I carried him off and after two vets examined him at the trial, I immediately took him to a veterinary service where they found something suspicious. I then took him to the University of Wisconsin’s Veterinary Oncology Department to confirm that Cody had stage 3 hemangiosarcoma, an aggressive cancer that was impossible to cure and difficult to even slow down. He had two tumors invading the core of his liver negating surgical removal. Chemotherapy was started immediately but it failed to slow the disease’s progression. Cody passed away at home on April 25 with Connie and me at his side, a scant two weeks after his diagnosis, three weeks after his fastest run ever, and less than one month after his championship-caliber runs at the AKC Nationals. At age seven and a half, he was gone. Last night I unpacked his agility bag for the last time and the remaining items in it brought back so many wonderful memories: a wrinkled course map where he placed first, a trinket awarded for a Double-Q, a few dried-out training treats, a plush toy he won that I forgot to give him. Cody was a very extroverted dog and although his loud barking in the agility ring is now silent, he was the most wonderful dog I have ever known—uniquely comedic, unwaveringly faithful, astoundingly intelligent, athletically gifted, and incredibly uplifting to be with. I miss him greatly. My hope is that Cody’s wonderful attributes will live on in all of us as a tribute to him. His light shined much brighter, although shorter, than expected in this life. To Connie and me, he was a gift from God although taken away much too soon. I know that right now he is out there on the bridge, waiting for me to meet up with him so I can put him on the start line, lead out a few obstacles, and call him to me once again. On the next day, I awoke to yet another bright, beautiful spring morning. But on that morning, my thoughts were consumed with just one solemn question: Why does the sun go on shining?

Jim Peterson
5

Jim Peterson, a senior director of finance at Kraft Foods, lives in the Chicago suburbs with his wife Connie DuBay. Cody (MACH Petersfield Flatford Codyboy OF), a Flat-Coated Retriever, was his first agility dog and was invited to the 2010 and 2011 AKC National Agility Championships, and the 2010 AKC Agility Invitational. His new Flat-Coated Retriever puppy, Haley (Windfall’s Ready to Rock), has some big paws to fill when she starts agility training later this year. Contact him at JimPeterson106@comcast.net. August 11 | Clean Run

Clean Run - August 2011

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