Merry Sydney Ursula Wall Has Left The Building…4/15/1998 – 9/14/2012

When I went to add a second Scottie girl to our family, I went back to the local breeder who gave us Big Macalester. There was six pups in the litter, 4 girls. I had already picked out a name, Sydney, and so I was looking for the pup that would be Sydney. I had never met the pups before.

I picked up the first pup, and in my mind asked, “Are you a Sydney?”, not really expecting a response. There was no response. I picked up the second girlie, and asked the same question in my mind, and also got no response. I picked up the third girlie, and before I could ask the question, she looked at me and said with her eyes, “Hi! My name is Sydney”. That took me back a bit, so I put her to one side, to keep an eye on her. I picked up the fourth girlie, and got no response to the question.

The third pup was the one. When she played with her brothers and sisters, there was nothing special about her, other than the strong Bardene ring around her tail. But she told me she was the Sydney I was looking for.

A classic naughty child, Sydney was into everything as a pup, and really never reformed herself. If something could be ripped up, chewed on, pooped under or in when she was displeased, it was done. I believe that in the Book of Doggie Psychiatry, next to the entry on revenge pooping, there’s a picture of the Squid in a squat.

She was a minor character in the early adventures of the Scotcorde flights, a member of a young group of pups (which included Katie Wild Child) that raised hell and disrespected the elders, especially Nurse Macalester and Tess.

Other than getting into trouble, Sydney’s next favorite thing to do was to do nothing. She was the Queen of Lazy. If she could get another dog to do her bidding, all the better. Why bark at squirrels and bunnies, when Laddie could do it? Why roll over for a belly rub when she could just lift an arm to make you reach under her for a scratch. Instead of walking around her brothers, she would fuss and bark at them to get them to move, so she could walk in a straight path to her destination.

I got Sydney during the time when it looked like I would never have a human child in my life, either by birth or adoption. It was a hard and lonely time for me. I don’t know if she knew that or not, but she was determined to be the baby I didn’t have. She wanted to be held like you’d hold a human baby, and needed to be the center of the universe.

When we were able to successfully adopt, and brought home Sarah, Sydney was upset that she had to share my lap. I have pictures of Sydney and Sarah on my lap, with Sydney placing a back leg over the top of Sarah, in a passive-aggressive demonstration of The Paw of Dominance. Only in the last three years, since Macalester T’s arrival, has Sydney forgiven Sarah for taking up space in her home.

When Rachel came home, Sydney took a liking to her, although unlike Sarah, Rachel never dropped food from her tray. Maybe Sydney was always hopeful Rachel would reform her ways. Rachel had a rocky start in our family, but
Sydney was always there when Rachel was upset and struggling. Rachel responded very well to the dogs and especially Sydney. I believe she helped Rachel’s transition and gave Rachel something to love and trust while she was figuring out if the rest of us could be loved and trusted.

Sydney loved, loved, loved me. Her world revolved around me. She would seek me out, or if she couldn’t find me, caterwaul at the top of her lungs until I responded and made my presence known – or go to where she was to fetch her. She answered many of my questions about life, my career, and the capabilities of my students with a blank stare and a tilt of the head that silently said all that needed to be said. She’d live under my computer desk, and if I spent too much time there (to her liking) would pee or poop (or do both if my sin was especially severe) under the same desk.

A few years ago, Sydney told me that she was going to outlive me. That made me nervous. I didn’t know if that meant I would die before her or what. When Sydney died, she was 14 years, 4 months, and 29 days old. So
in dog years, that translates to about 100 years 10 months and 20 days. I know my goal now, if I want to outlive Sydney. It’s on, Squid Marie!

I will miss her naughtiness and Scottitude every day for the rest of my life. She was my baby, and I was her world.