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| There was no fooling this boy. |
*I wrote this as a quick review of his life. 18 years of life makes it long. Not originally intended for widespread viewing I took little care to make it worthy of publication. Then Ginger suggested that because so many people always ask about Ace I should make it public. Here it is. If you don't like dogs, don't bother reading it. If you do like dogs always support efforts that reduce the number of abandoned animals - and people who abandon them. Rich
I remember the day Ace arrived. We had been looking for the
right pup for weeks when we found and settled on a reddish brown female border
collie. Advertised by a lady who fostered dogs from a high kill shelter, the
dog was everything we wanted. However, by the time we could get everything
together, including references, she (the dog) was gone. Fortunately, that
canine had a brother in the same foster home.
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One of our earliest photos of Ace. This is Ginger's dad, Wayne,
watching him while Ginger worked.
Photo by Michael Cuy at the Indy Airshow. |
The way we heard it Ace was one of those special dogs who
the foster family had been unable to resist falling in love with. Yet, they
knew they had to move dogs to new homes because they needed to save more from
the shelter. Therefore, they suggested Ginger should visit. If Ace took to her,
we had impeccable references, and they felt we had good juju they’d consider
letting him leave with her.
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Ace hanging out in front of the airport house with Ginger
and anotherfriend gone too soon, Ed Escalon. |
When Ginger arrived at Lee Bottom with Ace, my brother,
John, was there. I still remember him playing with Ace in front of the airport
house. Ginger remembers him saying, “I think he’ll fit right in.” He certainly
did.
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| Always hanging out with the cool kids. |
There was a problem though. During the drive home Ginger
discovered Ace hated riding in cars – he drooled continuously. Since she was
still living in Indianapolis and driving to Lee Bottom on the weekends, one
very specific pup would need to develop a taste for executive transportation.
However, no matter how much he rode in a car it didn’t get better. A solution
was called for. Ginger pulled it off. The following is how she did it.
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| Debating another shot at riding in the car. |
Operation Ace Must Ride: First, Ginger started by taking him
to the car, getting him in, giving him a treat and getting him back out. Once
he could do that she got him in the car closed the door, left him there a few
minutes then got him out and gave him a treat. The next stage of the operation
involved both of them getting in the car. They’d sit in the car, Ginger would
read for a while, then they’d get out and Ace would get a treat. Next came the
noise.
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| Debating a ride on the trailer. |
Ginger would get Ace in her car, start it, let it run, then
shut it off and Ace got a treat. Are you spotting a pattern? After a few days
of that Ace graduated to being on the move. When Ginger started the car she
backed to the end of the driveway, stopped, then pull back into the garage
acting as though it was the greatest thing they’d ever done in hopes of encouraging
the smart little guy. Naturally, he got a treat.
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| Ace trying to get someone to take him for a spin. |
Finally, after all those days or weeks, the big day came. Ginger
put him in the car, started it, backed out, and drove away. The clincher? She
took him to a local pet store, took him inside, let him pick out a treat on the
bottom shelf, let him enjoy it, then drove him home.
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Eventually Ace rode on or in everything except aircraft.
We never wanted him to associate a running aircraft with
a positive. All he knew was that when a plane wasn't running
and the people were out he could lay under it. |
If I remember correctly, she continued to do the same thing
with him every day for a week or more before she drove him to Lee Bottom again.
98% cured of his drooling, he would soon go on to be 100% convinced no vehicle,
truck, golf-cart, or even a four-wheeler would ever move more than six inches
without him on or in it. When he couldn’t do either, he’d run.
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| Sky attempting to catch Ace. |
Once Ace was comfortable at the airport, we began noticing
an unexpected trait. In much the same way farmers found Superman in a field, we
discovered our little fur covered bundle of joy was wicked fast. He had no
visible traits of any exceptionally fast breed but somewhere in his genes was
rocket fuel. It’s still hard to believe how far he could chase a deer and still
be calmly jogging inches behind it. For the first few years of his life he’d
also run beside or in front of the tractor as we mowed. Note, we’ve always
mowed fast. What was crazy was that he didn’t run along with you for part of
it, he ran for all of it - ALL OF IT – MILES AND MILES OF IT.
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| There would be no honor in outrunning this human. |
When he wasn’t running another thing stood out. He had the
most head high proud trot of any dog I’ve ever known. If you’ve ever watched a
thoroughbred settle into a post work out trot you’ve seen how he traveled if he
wasn’t running or riding. This is what he’d do as he played his favorite game –
outrun the lazy human.
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At home on South River Bottom Road,
aka - the Ace Davidson Speedway. |
Ace always had to be in the lead. Where it became really
apparent was in our nightly walks. No matter how many people or creatures were
walking with us he had to be in the lead. From up front he’d look back to ask
why you were not keeping up. If you tried to catch up, he’d accelerate. If you
started to jog he’d start a slow run. If you took off in a sprint he’d run
faster and further ahead of you until you ran out of gas, then he’d fall back
into his trot then look back to point out you still were not keeping up.
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He loved the cold. Anytime it was below 70 degrees
he was supercharged. |
When we realized this was a game to him we eagerly attempted
to make it our own, often trying to distract him then run by. The few times we
were successful it was a short-lived victory. Ace would sprint past us and we would
never got in front of him again. I’m pretty sure one such time was when I first
called him a peckerhead. He relished the title.
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During one fly-in I was running to catch a plane parking
in the wrong spot and had to jump over Ace. As my feet left
the ground he jumped up as if it were a game and took my
feet completely out from under me. I flew threw the air and
landed with a thud in a flying Superman pose in front of a
couple hundred people. I honestly regret nobody caught it on film. |
Then there were the days he’d chase a dozen deer off the
runway, following them all the way to the top of the hill. Each time he’d come
back to us with a giant grin on his face. An old friend was there once when Ace
took after some venison. With an exclamation our friend laughed and blurted
out, “That’s the fastest dog I’ve ever seen. He certainly was a fast mover.
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| Ace herded this fawn off the runway and to the house. |
Thinking back on those days, I’m required to recount the
time Lee Bottom was in the running for Indiana’s Airport of the Year. Somewhat hilarious
to start with, a committee much too professional for our kind of airport
actually bothered themselves to do an onsite visit. While sitting at the picnic
tables reviewing the doubtful claims such a place could be special, they came
to the part about training Ace to keep deer off the runway. Obviously, more
than a few of them were skeptical. Then, as if we had a trained deer, a doe
stepped out of the woods toward the field and BAAAMM! Ace switched from
innocuous porch puppy to heat seeking deer dog in an instant - clumps of grass
flying as his nails pushed off the turf toward it, the animal turned and placed
its white tail in high gear. The look on some of the committee members’ faces
was hilarious. Ahhh, great stuff.
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Ginger keeping Ace company on the floor after ACL surgery.
That rug had a heater under it and was a favorite of everyone. |
Amazed by his speed, Ginger decided to take a shot at
training him for agility trials. His learning was fast also. Unfortunately, his
mind outran his body and sequentially trashed both rear ACLs. This was the end
of agility and the beginning of what would become a very thick book of
veterinary care records.
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| Ace had a love of the finer things in life. |
Ace wasn’t unhealthy. To the contrary, he was so healthy he
found his way into many minor trips to the vet. Slashes, rashes, and gases,
were common symptoms. Whatever it was he received the best ongoing care money
could buy. A month ago, a very heavy package arrived on the doorstep. Similar
in size and weight to a hard back Oxford English Dictionary, I texted Ginger to
ask what it might be. She had requested a copy of Ace’s medical records.
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He always thought it was a lot of effort just to bring him shade.
But he appreciated it. |
Recently, as we debated the fate of our little guy, thumbing
through his records brought a welcome surprise. Every trip to the vet, good or
bad, marked a point in the first 18 years of our lives together. In retrospect,
yesterday’s emergency was today’s smile. Among the funniest was, “Taught Ace to
speak.”
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Poor little guy was stricken with caviar tastes and
leashed to a Lee Bottom budget. |
Not too long after we got Ace we realized he had never made
a sound. His vet, Dr. Foree, helped with that. Within a minute Ace had found
his voice. I can still hear it now. Several years later we realized he had gone
silent again. Our mistake was helping him rediscover it. After that he never
left the building without an announcement bark to let everyone know, “I’m still
here mudda fuddahs.”
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Laying in bed with one of the most amazing people I've ever known.
My aunt Ursula. Crippled from polio, she spent her life on crutches and
in a wheel chair. She taught on the third floor, there was no elevator, and
she never quit smiling, and more importantly she never quit - period. She was
also the first person in my family to find out Ginger and I were married and that
Ace had been our best man. |
Despite that cool gangster attitude, Ace was the most
intelligently gentle dog I’ve ever known. Some dogs are the fat dumb and happy
gentle. That’s not the same. Ace was considerate, less instinctual. It showed
through in his demeanor with kids and other animals.
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If there is something else after this world I'm sure
these two are hamming it up again. |
Not very long after we got Ace we added Meatball, the cat,
to the family. The two of them became fast friends. Very similar in demeanor
and intelligence they made quite the duo. Often they’d fall asleep lying so
close the two appeared as one. Both of them being black and white, more than
once we were surprised to see a large growth on Ace’s side began to yawn. Yes,
it was Meatball. Their similar appearances also earned them the nickname, “The
Monochrome Mini-dudes.” Our friend Nick gave them the moniker after living with
them a few days during a fly-in.
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After a big fly-in Ace makes sure Ginger is left alone
for a nap. |
Ace also served as Ginger’s bodyguard and all around top-notch
security detail. He noticed everything and never left her side. For years he
slept with us in the bed. When he could no longer do so he slept beside the bed
nearest the door. Other times he’d sleep in the door. He noticed everything.
One winter’s morning he stood at the door and let out a strange bark – strange
enough to cause Ginger to look. Snow had collapsed our hangar and I guess he
thought she really should know.
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This photo was taken next to the sheep pen. I'm guessing
the sheep were doing something to get their attention. |
Another year in the middle of winter he did the same thing.
This time when Ginger looked there was a beautiful but scared and hungry Border
collie outside the door. She became the next addition to our family, Sky. We’d
go on to add Gilmore and Bair. However, Ace always remained the animal Alpha.
He also was the only one that travelled.
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A trip to the Davidson homestead. Here he is with my uncle Walter
looking across the yard, and Mill Creek, at the bluff that helped
define the property. |
From the time Ginger taught him to love the car, he went
everywhere with us. Rarely was he out of our site. A few months after arriving
at Lee Bottom he even travelled to Tennessee to be the only attendee at our
wedding; our best man.
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| Me sleeping with Ace on the floor during his recovery. |
Unfortunately, one of the few times Ace wasn’t with us a car
hit him. His rear end mangled, head smashed, and very far from care when it
happened, I have no idea how he lived. Yet, everyone who could assist the
effort did and the surgeon was able to rebuild him. We were at Oshkosh when we
heard. Ginger immediately rushed home and I flew home with my brother the next
day.
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Here he is with the C3B Stearman. A few days later we flew it
to Oshkosh and that is where we were when he was hit by the car. |
When I first saw our injured pup I knew the next few months
would not be easy. All we had to do was to transport a broken egg home, take it
outside several times a day, unwrap and rewrap it, feed it and make sure it was
comfortable all without spilling any yolk.
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| More shade. |
Keeping his hip in the socket and having it heal in place
was a critical piece of the post op puzzle. Making this happen meant every time
he got up we had to pick up his rear and carry the weight of it in a sling. We
traded off nights of sleeping with him on the floor, taking him outside, changing
his bandages, and splints for the next three months. Did I mention how much we
loved this dog?
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| Standing at attention. |
Once the surgeon said he’d healed enough to put weight on
the leg it had been so long we had to teach him to walk again. It started with
one of us holding him in the sling while the other articulated his leg to drag
his paw across the ground. He was reluctant. We were persistent.
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When the power went out the week of the fly-in
we all relocated to a hotel. |
Weeks of this therapy finally began to yield results as Ace
began to test the waters. Gently touching the ground with that leg, he’d hop
over it to keep the weight off. That’s when we introduced distractions.
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| Hanging out with the nephews. |
Doing anything we could to get him to forget about his
injured leg wasn’t easy. However, eventually it began to work. Then one day, I
have no idea when, we all forgot about it. Only when the vets who knew his
history reacted to him as a bit of a marvel did we realize what the three of us
had accomplished.
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| I just like the photo. |
Eight months later, he survived the tornado. After that we
saw his first weakness appear. The deep rumble of storms rattled him until the
day he died. Anything with a low frequency made him uncontrollably chatter. It
was so bad I had to remove as much bass as I could from any sound system in the
house as it became nearly impossible to listen to music or watch a movie. Thankfully,
those changes allowed us all settled into a groove; Ace became an even bigger
part of our lives and life was generally good until he began to have seizures.
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| Eagerly waiting to help Ginger with her bees. |
Nobody knew what was going on. He would start pacing, teeth
chattering, and looking for a way out of the house. A canine panic attack was
the best way to describe it. Once again, after many vet visits, Ginger found a
specialist and off we went.
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| Helping the guys get ready for the fly-in. |
Amazingly, the veterinary neurologist knew in less than
thirty seconds what had been a mystery to many others. Seizures, most likely
caused by his run in with the car, were freaking him out. He could sense them
coming on, then he would try to get away from them and couldn’t.
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| He led a pretty good crew. |
Thank God for this lady. She was brilliant. An hour later,
for all practical purposes, a medicine commonly prescribed for Parkinson’s
disease cured him. For the rest of his life we’d give him those pills morning
and night.
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| One of his many trips to "the vet." |
Finally, two years ago his right rear leg started to drag
and getting up became difficult for him. Conversations about how we’d know if
we should put him to rest became common. Twice it got so bad we were sure it
was days away. Both times he rebounded and continued to walk with us nightly.
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As Ace grew older, Bair became what we affectionately called,
"Ace's hearing ear dog." When Ace lost most of his eyesight and
hearing Bair became his guide. Bair didn't leave him and Ace
stuck by his side. Ace still knew his way around but Bair could hear us. Therefore, the few times we let Ace out by himself then needed him to come in we had an issue.
The solution? When we really needed Ace to come in I would fire off a few rounds from the deck and Ace would hear them and come running.
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We always joked his tail was his gas gauge. A few years ago
he’d easily walk three miles. Then we began to notice he could only do two. Then
one and a half. We knew this because his tail went from high to low in a linear
fashion in relation to the energy he had remaining. When he could only do a
quarter mile we became worried once more.
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| The Forees. They gave Ace such good care. |
His life fading while we had another sick animal in the
house wore on our nerves. During one memorable call a friend asked how the
animals were doing and I blurted out, “I wish they’d just die.” Hearing the
silent shock on the other end made me realize what I had said. When they
verified I wouldn’t do anything to rush their demise, I realized they had no
idea how much I loved the animals in question and how often we were questioning
if our desire to keep them alive was for us or them.
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Toward the end he would go outside, lay on this bank, and watch
the world go by. To me it looked like an old man sitting in
the sun thinking about better days and wondering when
and how the end would come. |
That was the maddening concern all along. Were we actually
causing Ace to suffer by doing everything we could to keep him alive? We asked
the vet, asked another vet, researched the topic online, and the best thing we
could come up with was what Ace’s original vet suggested, “Find three things he
loves and when he cannot do two of them, you have your answer.” Yet, if he’d
“just die” in his sleep it wouldn’t fall to me to decide when that was. That
was the source of the statement that caught our friends off guard.
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| Always watching you. |
However, no matter how weak, old, or thin he got Ace
continued to do all the things he loved, only slower. Ginger had always
marveled how Ace knew when I was gone and would take on the role of guard dog.
Then as soon as I got home he’d play with me like a puppy. This too he did as
little as a month ago, although painfully slow.
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The last days were filled with hugs and clad in extra grip
booties for getting up and down. |
Ten days ago, that all ended. Ginger and Ace had been
enjoying a warm Florida get-a-way, making new friends, walking nightly as we
always had, and generally relaxing when Ace decided he was done. I don’t know
if he couldn’t get up or he decided he was through trying. All I know is that
Ginger’s voice told me it definitely was not good. Unfortunately, I had just
left on a short trip.
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| From a group of photos taken by Shelby Lynn Photography. |
Over the next few days we talked frequently about what to do
and how. Ginger had already found a service that would come to where we were
and now she was asking me where that was going to be. All I knew was that it
had to be somewhere special – somewhere he’d love. Thankfully, she found it.
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| Ginger and Ace smiling for the camera in 2020. |
When I arrived in Ft. Meyers, straight from my trip, I was
exhausted and Ace was motionless on the floor. Walking over to him, his eyes
followed, nothing else moved. Lying down beside him I tried to express in some
manner all the ways he’d made my good life better. He made one small movement
he always made when happy, and that was the last real effort I saw.
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| My little buddy's last ride. |
Picking him up for his last car ride, I felt the skin on his
spine as he, for the first time ever, assumed the fetal position in my arms.
Honestly, I have no idea how I took the next steps without folding. Looking
deep into my eyes, looking for something, I did everything I could to reassure
him everything was going to be better. Laying him in the car, his eyes followed
and nothing else moved. An expression of resignation was all he could muster.
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| Our little boy made a good thing better. |
When we arrived at the spot Ginger had found it was perfect.
When times are tough she always pulls off miracles. We laid out a blanket, I
got Ace from the car, and we rolled him from my arms onto his side. For the
next half hour Ginger laid with him on the ground, petting his head, his eyes
focused on her, then trying to find me while I mostly paced.
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| On a day in March... |
When the vet arrived she marveled at his health even in his near
motionless state. He was clearly ready to go and it was obvious we had spared
him nothing. After sedation, I kneeled down with him and Ginger and noticed his
breathing grow shallow and rapid. Knowing the drill I steadied myself for the
final injection. Resting my hand on his head, he took five breaths and was
gone.
A little while later I sent the following to those I knew
who’d care.
“It is with the greatest of sadness we inform you that Ace
Davidson left this Earth today, March 17th, at 1:57PM. Under the Page Field
pattern, in a shady spot next to a lake, birds chirping and butterflies flying,
his parents said goodbye to him – the truest of companions, their best man, and
all around great dog.”
He was 18 years old.
Months earlier self-doubt filled our thoughts. Were we
keeping him alive for selfish reasons? On Ace’s last day I thought back on all
the times he could have died and wondered, “Was he living for us?”
In retrospect, it sure feels that way. Giving until he had nothing left to
give, the little peckerhead left us behind again.
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| ...and into our memories he went. |
