Remembering Astor, Fudge and "everyone's dog'

A Friday-night trip to the animal hospital was not in our plans.

But Fudge, our Boston Terrier, had abruptly keeled over, vomited, and seemed incapable of getting up.

Because of the late hour, we needed an around-the-clock place. So, after finding their display ad in the phone book, we were zooming to the VCA Aurora Animal Hospital.

For such a random decision, we made a heck of a choice.

"This place is the Mayo Clinic of the pet world," I told my wife as we drove home later in the evening. Fudge would have to stay overnight for tests.

But aside from the top-notch doctors and array of equipment, the thing that impressed me was the sincere, concerned, bedside manner of the staff. Yes, they get a lot of training, but virtually all who are hired are asked why they want to work at VCA, and "Everyone says, 'Because I love animals,' " said Lorrie Nimsgern, hospital manager.

And nowhere is the love of animals more evident than in the pages of today's Daily Herald.

As reported by legal affairs writer Christy Gutowski, a memorial dedicated to Astor, DuPage County's bomb-sniffing German shepherd, on Thursday drew about 100 people and plenty of tears.

Astor died in October of cancer at the age of 10. Shortly thereafter, county employees dug into their own pockets and raised $1,700 to establish a memorial for Astor.

"Astor was everybody's dog here. We all felt like he belonged to us," said Marge Kaczmarek, presiding secretary of the courthouse's felony division. "There are a lot of people in this building who cared for and loved Astor."

Maybe that unconditional love pets give to their owners is a two-way street. We've long remarked around here that our readers love a good animal story. I routinely pitch such stories for the front page.

The story of Astor's passing appears on today's Page 1, as does the emotional photo of his handler, George Foy. Christy also recounted Astor's heroics, ranging from helping secure the grounds at Medinah Country Club during last year's PGA Championship to finding a gun buried in the snow that had been used in a fatal shooting. All told, he had 42 "finds" of guns and explosives.

"Everyone knew and loved Astor," added Chief Judge Ann Jorgensen. "He was a great ambassador. He was everyone's dog."

The animals being cared for that busy Friday night at VCA weren't as famous as Astor, but you could tell they were as beloved. From the family whose dog had suffered a stroke to the owner who carried in his dog after being hit by a car. Some left with good news that evening: the stroke victim, for instance, was walking much better.

The news wasn't as good for Fudge. Tests showed he had liver cancer. And at the age of 13, he wasn't going to be subjected to surgery, chemotherapy or any other heroic efforts. So, we took Fudge home for one last day with family and returned to VCA on Sunday to have him euthanized, one of the tougher days of our lives, I'd have to say.

Afterwards, my wife, stepdaughter and I sat around and told Fudge stories. No bomb-sniffing heroics, and, truth be told, Fudge was a bit of a pill in his early days. But he had some great sunset years, spent a lot of time sleeping in the sun, burrowing under the bedcovers every night, poking people with his paw in a way that said, "Pet me!"

And I think it would be fair to say everyone who knew Fudge well loved him.

And in that respect, like Astor, he was everyone's dog.