Duchess, 1994-2007

To any current or future PCVs reading this, feel free to skip this entry as it has nothing to do with Peace Corps or Georgia. For lighter fare, check out the essay from earlier this week, a tour through the Pioneer Palace.

Still reading?


This entry is dedicated to the memory of Ms. Duchess McFann, a.k.a. "Miss Fluffy," "Geefren," "Badeena," "Lardbutt," "Duchess Roo," "Snaggletooth," "Porkchop," etc. She was a lousy guard dog, snarling at friends who'd given her treats the last 50000 times they'd seen her, while allowing strange men into the house unpestered if none of her masters were home to protect. She wasn't very obedient; she never learned any tricks beyond "sit," and even this was a display she would only deign to perform if there were treats involved. Every time she was left alone in the house, she would knock over the garbage can, communicating in her own irritating way that she missed her family.

But she was adorable.

Duchess and her brother Duke lived together with a family who pampered them until the age of 5, at which point they were given up for adoption. In 1999, a woman and her two daughters came to Duchess's foster home, where her appearance elicited many squeals of delight and adoration, and she was adopted immediately. Initially, Duchess was shy; she never barked, nor did she wag her tail. She didn't know how to play (and in fact, never really learned very well) and spent most of her time laying around (that didn't really change).


As the weeks passed, however, she grew to become a full-fledged member of the family. She discovered that this role, while it led to many treats and too much petting, also demanded of her that she engage in the following tasks, which she did with a minimum of protest:


- dress as a farmer for Halloween, and in fact wear whatever ridiculous bows or handkerchiefs her family happened upon
- ride a jetski at full speed
- ride on the bow of a kayak and be tipped into the water
- go sledding down a hill on an air tube
- accompany family members on errands around town
- have hundreds of pictures taken of her


Et cetera. Duchess faced a crisis in her life in 2006, when-- after one member of her family left for the Peace Corps and another left for college-- the third family member also had to leave for grad school and could no longer house Duchess. Duchess was heart-breakingly and reluctantly returned to the sheltie foster system from which she'd been adopted. But all was not lost: a month later, the grad student's landlady's cat died, and Duchess was offered a place in her home. Aside from the uninformed chidings of a third party who'd intended to adopt Duchess and who accused her family of neglect, the process went through swiftly, and Duchess took a plane ride to Minnesota, where she lived the remainder of her life with her one family member.


Duchess was 13 years old on Monday, when she suffered a stroke and was put down. While her owner in the Peace Corps wishes nothing more than that she could have seen Duchess one more time, she's secure in the knowledge that Duchess had a full, unique life, and that very few shelties can claim to have gone jetskiing. And despite what the Bible Club faculty sponsor told me in 9th grade, I think Duchess knows that I miss her and that I didn't abandon her when I came to Georgia.



*pours wine onto a piece of bread*
Duchess kargi dzaghli iko, da dzalian momenatreba is. Ksona ikos.