Dog of the past... Kastle

Kastle by Heydorn Photography


This handsome lad is Applegarth's Joyous Garde aka Kastle. He was bred by Eve Marschark out of her Rin by a dog named Lad. His lines go back to Pulfer's Shep/Nan and he was the foundation of Applegarth. Born on Halloween in 1988, his birth day said a great deal about his personality. Always a gentleman, but forever a joker, Kastle was my first purebred Border Collie. His first name was spelled with a "K" because there was a Golden Retriever in obedience that was Castle with a "C" for sandcastle at that time... Of course, I had to be different and he was named for Lancelot's castle, Joyous Garde. Kastle was the light of my life along with Jessie.

When Kastle came home, Jessie decided that this youngster could take her place as soon as possible. Content to hang out at home, she was pleased to have a replacement as my dog training subject. He was chosen at 4 1/2 weeks of age mainly because he retrieved a piece of crushed paper and sat front. Huh?! Mine! A friend tried to steer me towards the traditionally marked available girl, but there was something about this chubby little ball of fur that called him to me. And it was SO the right decision!

Kastle gave new meaning to individuality and flair in the ring. Always, he hoped for applause and/or laughter. He taught me all about humility, patience and humor in the obedience ring. His favorite exercise was the gloves in Utility where he would run out to the correct one, pounce on it, then kill it soundly by shaking it the entire way back to me. The crowd loved it. The judges? Not so much... We once had a judge that made me so tense because of her comments about Kastle's antics, that he upped the ante by running the glove over to her, shaking it at her while growling, then smacking her with his tail as he spun quickly to bring the glove to me. I could only smile sheepishly. He then did his go-outs to the ring gating, spun on a dime when I asked him to sit, but every muscle in his body was poised to explode as I signalled a jump in Directed Jumping. Her comment to me was "You know he's borderline out of control!" Ya think?! He also had a penchant for tossing his dumbbell in the air on a retrieve, catching it gracefully, then bringing it back to me only to stage a tug-of-war over it when the judge said "Take it". Kastle would actually grip down so hard on the bar, that he snapped several wooden ones in half. Thank heaven for plastic. It didn't change his zeal however.

Kastle was a "sacrifice the body" kind of dog and this was evident when he and his son, Duncan, chased down a tennis ball at the same time. Duncan, being younger and faster, cut Kastle off sending him careening into a fence post. He had the equivalent of a torn rotator cuff in his right shoulder from that incident. He also broke a toe jumping in obedience, a fracture type that my vet said he had only seen one other time. He had his fair amount of stitches, bruises, strains and sprains. He was all boy. Speed gave him a high that was evident by the wild grin and flying saliva. More! Better! Higher! Faster! were his mottos... Applause and laughter only fueled the fire.

He had a soft, gentle side too. He was bred 3 times in his life. The first litter was sadly lost in mid-pregnancy. The second litter produced 2 male puppies, Duncan and Flurry out of a leased bitch. The last breeding produced 4 puppies, 3 girls and 1 boy out of our Zoe. He was a doting Dad with his puppies. He was indulgent, but he could also be firm when needed. I still remember when he laid and watched his puppies out of Zoe for hours with his chin on the edge of the whelping box. Every twitch from a puppy made his head jerk a bit. And God bless Zoe for being so tolerant of his presence. He was the epitome of patience with his youngsters even when they were hanging off of his face with those sharp, needle teeth.

On sheep, he was stubborn and willful. My instructor said he was a tough dog for a beginner to handle. Really?! Clinic instructors shook their heads, but I persevered with his training. I ran him only a few times at the Novice/Novice level, each time a trainwreck. He crossed over on his outrun, wouldn't lie down or take flanking commands and he wouldn't call off the sheep, scattering them around the field. But in training and on the fields he knew, he was letter perfect. At a clinic one time with Jack Knox, I sent Kastle on his outrun to the left. As he neared the balance point, Jack yelled, in his Scottish brogue, "Kos! Lie doon!" Kastle skidded to a halt before he hit balance and looked back at me as if to say "What did he just say?!" Jack asked me what was wrong with that dog... I said he wasn't imported. I got a wry smile from him as I sent Kastle further on and called out "Kastle, lie down!" You could see the understanding in his face as he hit the ground. "Oh... that's what he said..." It was difficult to keep a straight face after that. At a trial in NJ, he was so bad that I had to go out and drag him off the course with a leash. I had 7 offers to buy him that day. Uh... no thanks.

As a therapy dog, none could touch him. His sweet, loving temperament and sense of humor made people readily accept him. Even people who didn't like dogs. At the PT/OT unit at a local hospital, Kastle had a bag of toys we took with us so the patients could toss them to him as he endlessly retrieved them back into their laps. Every now and then, we had a patient that didn't like dogs and didn't want to be there for this mandatory visit. With those cases, he would play with the other patients, then go over and sit by the person who wanted nothing to do with him. He would lean against their leg or wheelchair, then slowly put his head on their knee, with those big expressive eyes of his looking up at them as if to say "I am going to get you to like me." And he did, every time. He would work a toy onto the patient's lap and they would toss it off and you could see the triumph in his face. "See? I knew I could get you to like me!" He once made a coma patient respond, after the patient had been unresponsive for several days. His hand moved on the soft fur as Kastle put his chin on the edge of the bed. The man's family placed his hand on Kastle's head and the man stroked Kastle, the first signs of responsiveness in days. He had a favorite lady at one of the nursing homes that spoiled him rotten. He went straight to her room every time we visited. She invited him up on her bed and would cuddle with him, feeding him treats that she had her family buy for him. And we always stopped by her room on the way out. When she unexpectedly passed away, Kastle was never the same again with his therapy work. I retired him as the joy in it had gone away with her death.

Kastle adored my nephew Jason, a Down's Syndrome child, who spent time at his crazy dog-loving Aunt's house. Kas would endlessly try to engage Jason in games of fetch as Jason sat on the floor. Fed up after awhile, Jason would go and sit on the couch only to have Kastle assault him there with toys. It always made Jason giggle and say Kastle's name in exasperation. As if that would make him go away... Uh, nope.

Kastle died 2 weeks short of his 16th birthday of simply old age. He was too dignified for us to let him deal with his chronic, debilitating problems. He was, as his breeder put it, "An amazing sentient being that just happened to have fur." And that he was... Kastle still holds very special place in my heart and always will. The "Pointy- Eared Wonder" he was and always will be... <3 <3 <3