Oslo joined our family as a 7-week-old puppy on May 11, 2017. I flew to Portland to pick him up and fly him home. He showed what a good boy he would become that day…no complaints, just went with the flow. He vanquished dandelions. Met people. Chewed his puppy bone. Popped his head out of his flight carry-on. Napped. Made it home, snuggled in with Kyleigh and Trim, and was smuggled off to a high school picnic the next day.
Kyleigh and I usually name our pets after places we want to visit. In Ozzer’s case, we had been watching my climbing instructor on The Amazing Race when they went to Oslo, Norway…and Kyleigh and I both said, “We need to go there” shortly before Oslo came home to the two of us and Trimmie, our 8-year-old Golden. The name was perfect…easy to call and plenty of options for nicknames (Oz, Ozzeroll, Ozzer, Mr. Oz). He was also called Tiny Dog (Secret Life of Pets), The Paw (he would paw at you, or whatever was in front of him if you weren’t, in order to get you to pet him…or keep petting him if you had stopped), and Butters (this started as “Hey, Bud!” and somehow went to Budders and then Butters, which suited him as his coat was smooth, buttery soft, and never matted).
He was perfect…beautiful topline and tailset, with his perfect tail always waving, sweet disposition (he would let humans do anything to him, as he showed going through diagnosis and radiation treatment for a brain tumor and a year later dealing with what we thought was a torn ACL and turned out to be hemangiosarcoma…when we amputated a leg and went through 4 rounds of chemo). His ears were so soft…the leather was a bit thick according to the Golden Retriever standard, but it made his ears so soothing to play with. And he loved scratches behind those perfectly placed and sized ears.
His deep brown eyes…they looked into your soul. He learned so easily…side steps, turn on the forehand, 3-legged stands, bucket stands, nose work, agility…he would stare at me with those beautiful, intelligent eyes while we trained, and he just knew what I wanted. He was driven by his nose, though, and bigger agility titles remained out of reach (even though his responsiveness saved me from my own poor handling in class) because once in a competition ring, there were things to be smelled…and people to say hello to. He knew physics…when he wanted to stop and smell something, he lowered his center of gravity and dug his nails in, and I couldn’t budge him.
He was a great trail companion…we hiked Bierstadt together twice (including as Kyleigh’s first 14’er), and he accompanied me and sometimes other friends on numerous other 14’ers and 13’ers. He loved the winter…snow was the best. Making snow angels, acting as a snowplow, or just sitting in it. Or…trying to find his rubber snowball underneath the snow. His first Christmas with us, he got a rubber “Coal” ball in his stocking (he was, after all, a naughty puppy), while Perfect Trimmie got a rubber “Snowball” in her stocking. Oslo quickly claimed Snowball, and it was literally his for life. Towards the end, I called it his “emotional support snowball,” as he would run back into the house from the yard to get it. He knew what Snowball was by name (“Go find your snowball” had him hunting the house for it and no other toy…even the replacement snowball, which was the exact same toy, just newer). If he didn’t find it in the house, he would paw to go outside and search for it. He ran agility for that snowball…he retrieved all over the backyard, jumping for it and catching it with a solid thunk.
We had many adventures over the years…trying to ski (my ski brake issue, not him), snowshoeing, walking daily no matter what the weather, hiking…he was always ready to get in the car and go. He loved rolling (and kicking his back legs like he was doing bicycles)…he’d roll in the grass in the yard, in the bushes while we were hiking…it seems there are many places perfect for a good roll. He also loved chewing sticks…so. many. good. sticks. out. hiking. He loved swimming, both in lakes and in pools to retrieve a tennis ball. I would have to haul him out.
He would softly kiss me every now and again. And when I sat down to put my shoes on to go for a walk, he would push that big square head of his against my chest for a cuddle. He loved to cuddle…in the morning, it was a requirement before we could get up for the day.
He eventually became a big brother to Kiwi, who harassed him when we walked and more than once wound up like a noodle over the top of him…so he just trotted down the street with another Golden Retriever sideways over him.
Oslo…my sweet boy…we miss you so much. You are so loved. Your presence was huge, and there is a huge hole in our family without it.
