Goodbye, Blue. Our family will miss you dearly, remember you always.

By Michelle Villarreal Leschper and Will Leschper

Our boy Blue began his journey as a cast-off. He was part of a litter of Catahoula-Lab mixes that was found underneath a house in South Texas, ultimately ending up in dog jail, with a future that was full of doubt.

A family friend found the little rascal and adopted him, hoping that either she or someone else would be able to eventually provide a loving home for him. For that, I am eternally grateful. Blue’s first residence didn’t work out, something for which I also am eternally grateful.

As is the case, when a friend shows you a video of a dark ball of fluff and fury, with little coordination and no regard for personal boundaries, you can’t help but hope that maybe that little puppy will end up in your arms.

And you know what, he did just that.

Blue came to live in my wife’s apartment (before she was my wife), and after we got married, he became our first child. As with any child, there was a learning process. There were pee accidents. There were chewed-up pieces of wooden trim and a pair of my boots that were shredded. There were even little lapses where the tyke escaped and our hearts dropped. Of course, we would find him somewhere nearby, usually with him covered in something that stank to high heaven or under a piece of furniture. I think being under things — resembling his first hiding spot under a house — gave him a sense of calm.

Blue loved people. He loved everyone and everyone loved him. How could you not? He was a precious, precocious, rambunctious boy that didn’t know anyone as a stranger. He may have taken a few minutes to warm up to you, but once he did, he was in your lap or snuggled up on your leg. He even let my wife carry him like a baby, up until he reached a good 50 pounds and she couldn’t hold him for more than a few seconds.

Blue moved with my wife and later our family multiple times, to multiple new residences, and each one he breathed life into in a way that I can’t even describe. He started in my wife’s apartment and then with her to her grandfather’s house where he grew quite fond of Grandpa Jaime and his pup, Rumpy. After we were married, he was with us in a rental home, a temporary home, and finally in our forever home, which he loved dearly.

We live in a modest home, though it does come with a big backyard, which became his sanctuary, a place that suited his pure joy of exploring and running. He was an athlete and having a wide swath of territory to cover made him happy. I know this because he had a smile unlike any other I’ve ever seen on any canine when he was outside.

Blue was not a hunting dog, though he managed to catch a number of quarries, notably some of the resident South Texas white-winged doves that frequent our neighborhood. (Full disclosure here to our hard-working and amazing Texas game warden friends: I can neither confirm nor deny that any of those whitewings were taken during regular-season hunting frameworks and he definitely didn’t have a valid hunting license).

Even though he wasn’t like the traditional German shorthair or English setter that blessed my family growing up, Blue loved the outdoors. He absolutely enjoyed going to the ranch and the deer lease on a regular basis. He was at home as a family dog in our house, but he thrived outdoors. He was always the first out the door to see the whitetail deer we brought back to camp and I know he reveled in being a part of the hunt.

While Blue enjoyed seeing the spoils of our hunting efforts, he relished the after-effects of meat processing. Blue ate good, possibly better than any other critter I’ve known. His list of dietary supplements included bits of everything from whitetail backstraps, roasts and tenderloins to caribou and feral hog. He also enjoyed fish, ranging from Texas redfish and speckled trout to the occasional flounder, as well as wild-caught Alaskan sockeye, rockfish and even the lowly cod.

However, his two true culinary passions were venison sausage and smoked salmon. He was a fiend. Anytime he heard the crinkling of FoodSaver bags that contained either, he always managed to find a way to the kitchen when these delicacies were being prepared for human consumption. Even if he was outside, he knew by smell and sound that the goods were there for the taking, sitting right by the back door that adjoins our kitchen, patiently knowing that there may be bits and pieces that found their way into his rumbling belly.

Blue was our baby, until my wife and I welcomed our first child, and he soon found out that some things change. He also discovered that change can be a good thing, if nothing else that human youngsters tend to drop plenty of food on the floor and willingly enjoy sharing their meals, too. We cook a lot of wild game in our household so our kids have grown up eating many of the same organic proteins their parents do. Blue loved every delicious minute of it, too.

At first, Blue didn’t entirely know what to make of the new addition to our family. He was used to having his line in the pecking order, taking regular naps and being the center of our attention. As he came to find out, having a human puppy is a lot of hard work, with many nuances that cut into leisure activities for everyone in the household. However, our daughter came to grow on him, and within the first few months of her life, Blue took on a new role: Protector.

If you’re not familiar with the Catahoula breed, as we initially weren’t, they are working dogs with origins that date back to Native American heritage. Legend has it they were bred to hunt all types of game and served multiple purposes. The Catahoula also was declared the state dog of Louisiana in 1979, something that I get a chuckle out of due in large part that the family tree on one side of my family has deep Cajun roots. You could say it was just meant to be that this fellow ended up in our household. It also may explain his love for blackened redfish, but who’s to say any different?

I also think that due in some part to the Catahoula’s temperament and need to watch over a flock of some type of animal, he took a shine to our daughter. She took some time to warm up to Blue as well, but within a matter of months, she was all over him. In fact, she was rough as hell with him sometimes, pulling on his ears or grabbing his paws that were extended as he laid down for a nap. We nervously stood by with a watchful eye, but not once did he ever show any aggression toward his sister. She was his and he was there for her, no matter what she needed. There were numerous times when we would put her down for a nap and before we could even hear her start to roust about or cry, Blue would slowly come walking into whatever room we were in and just give us a long, hard look, essentially saying “It’s your turn, go get her.”

As time went on, our youngster started crawling, walking and talking, and Blue was right there with her, almost nudging her on when she couldn’t quite get solid footing. When our daughter first began babbling incoherent musings, Blue would cock his head to the side and give her an inquisitive look, trying to figure out what the hell this new language was. Then, when she finally put the right syllables together, her first word was “Dada,” something that still melts my heart, but her second word — “Blue.”

Fast-forward a couple of years and our family welcomed our second daughter to the fray. And you know what her first word was? “Blue.”

Our daughters unconditionally loved their brother, and that’s what he was to them. He wasn’t just a dog. He was their champion. He was blood. And they made sure he went through the same rigors any other family member would, including dress-up parties and even though he wasn’t a fan of wearing anything, he would oblige, though deep down I think he actually loved every minute of it. I know he especially enjoyed Halloween because he loved children. He always had some type of get-up on when kids would come to the door looking for candy and he always seemed so happy to just enjoy seeing new people, especially those he could spy right at eye level.

I also should note that because Blue was part Catahoula, he had an innate desire to preside over his territory, which in this case was our entire house and both the front yard and backyard. He was the sweetest, loving being I’ve ever spent time with — unless you were a male stranger trying to get anywhere near his Back 40. The times I’ve been most proud of my son were when someone unexpectedly dropped by to either check on something in the backyard or do work on the house. In those cases, he scared the crap out of multiple city employees, landscapers and workmen. He never once bit anyone, but he has a deep, guttural bark that came out when he felt like someone may be coming to do harm to his flock. One fellow from a local company who came to cut our grass without first checking learned this the hard way and declared that he was never coming back!

Blue could project a determined fierceness without actually doing anything, which gave me a sense of ease if my wife and kids were home by themselves for any length of time. Having him there, protecting what’s most precious, was calming for everyone and it’s a role I know he cherished.

You see, Blue is a special dog, unlike any other that came before him or ever will after him. He was our best friend and a member of our family. He was gentle and nurturing with our babies and was their playful older sibling as they have grown up. He loved sunbathing, car rides, playing dress-up, catching birds, posing for the camera, running in circles and giving kisses. But most of all, he loved people. He loved being around people that would talk to him, pet him or just sit outside with him.

He loved us, he protected us and he consoled us in our times of need. He was the most amazing dog we could’ve asked for and our family is heartbroken that we didn’t get to say goodbye the way he so truly deserved. He deserved to grow old and live a long, spoiled life, but God had a bigger plan for him.

Goodbye, Blue. Our family will miss you dearly and we will remember you always. The past seven years have truly been a gift from God and we know that you’re in a better place. You were loved and I know you loved our family. You were a good soul and I can’t wait to see you down the road. I’ll make sure I bring the sausage!