Bigvalley's Motown
      (AFC Trieven Classical Jazz MH x Mariachi's Mountain Echo)
                               June 25, 1989 - January 24, 2002


                                             Motown's gift
by Greg K. Brown

 I remember the first time I met "Motown", my beloved black labrador retriever.  I drove out to Big Valley Kennels in Aldergrove to see this one and a half year old black male that the kennel had for sale.  He was owned by Agneta and Willie. Willie, a former football player with the BC Lions, is big and would simply speak his name and Motown would freeze in his tracks.  With me it was never quite that easy.  When I first met Motown, Willie had him sit right down besides where we were standing.  Motown leaned right into me and

Motown and I became friends fast since we began running together almost immediately.  The main reason I wanted Motown was so that I had a running partner to train for marathons with.  We would run the trails on the North shore and Lions Bay for hours.  Eventually we qualified for the Boston Marathon in 1993.  He of course was not lucky enough to be allowed to run the race, so he stayed at home and waited for my return.  I remember with absolutely joy those mornings we would go running over the Lynn Canyon   suspension bridge.  He would always run like he didn't have a worry in the world and just enjoyed the simple pleasure of getting out of the house for a morning run.  I remember he always thought of himself as a human and never a dog because he always ignored other dogs on our runs.  I recall running into a small black bear in Lions Bay and he ran right past him because he probably thought he was just another dog.  He was always just a part of the family, and I never thought I would have to say good-bye.  I thought we would just go on running forever. 

Motown had a great love for water in any form, be it the muddiest pond or a swift-flowing river, but never a bath.  We would go swimming at Lynn Canyon, Caulfield or Light House Park on the North shore or the beach at White Rock on Saturday mornings.  He would chase a stick into the water almost endlessly.  He absolutely loved the water and when he was in the car and saw water he would start to whimper, because he wanted to go swimming so badly.  I always made a point of going swimming with him as much as  possible.

At home he loved fetching a ball.  We would spend hours together playing fetch.  I would always throw the ball up the street, only to have it bounce into a neighbor's garden with Motown chasing after it.  He would return with not only the ball, but half of the flower bed as well!  He also loved frolicking in the snow.  We've just had a huge snowfall  this past weekend.  He would have loved running around in the snow, rolling in it and eating it.

Over the years we had many adventures together.  One of my favorites occurred in the fall of 1996 when we went camping to the Queen Charlotte Islands.  I remember it was mushroom picking season and all Motown was doing was running around the campsite eating mushrooms until he was sick to his stomach.  My car broke down in Tiell in the middle of the north island and eventually we had to fly back to Vancouver.  I had to buy one of those portable kennels and he had to fly in the belly of the plane.  I remember sitting on the plane at the end of the runway for take off and all I could hear was him barking in the hold of the plane, telling me how much he didn't like being caged up. 

I remember another time when we did the Grouse Grind together on a  wet fall day.  He led the way to the top, but somehow we lost each other so that when I got to the summit Motown was nowhere to be found.  As I retraced my steps going back down, there was no sign of him.  I asked nearly every person as I went down.  They would say that they had seen a black lab not long ago, but when I arrived in the parking lot there was still no Motown.  I got in the car and drove around for an hour looking for him and it was pouring out.  I eventually decided to go into the office at the base of Grouse Mountain to see if anyone had seen him.  To my surprise, there he was sitting in the midst of the whole staff of young women being spoiled and fed in a nice dry office, while I resembled a slightly drowned rat.

A friend of mine Bonnie once asked me how long Motown would live and I remember answering her without hesitation "forever'".  When Motown passed away on January 24, 2002, I was looking into his big brown eyes, the same brown eyes I had fallen in love with so many years ago.  He loved to have his face stroked.  As he passed, I stroke his face the way my wife Sarb always did, told him how sorry I was and that I loved him.  I told him this over and over again, until  Dr. Hopper, the veterinarian, had heard his heart stop.  Motown was my teacher.  The best thing he taught me was how to love.  That was Motown's gift to me.  Without a doubt, I loved him with all my heart.  I will miss you  forever my friend.  Across the Rainbow Bridge, may the angels lead you, my Motown.