Apache came to us from Chicago in May of 2003. We picked her up from American Airlines cargo at DIA; she was the tiniest puppy, weighing only 7lbs. That quickly changed as she rapidly grew before our eyes. From the moment we laid eyes on her, she instantly stole our hearts. Come to find out, she would steal the heart of everyone who would meet her, whether they wanted to or not. She could turn the saddest person or situation into laughter with her silly antics. She had a way of flipping your hand to land perfectly on her head for scratches, and if you stopped, she vocally let you know she didn’t appreciate it. There was the way she would roll to her back for anyone and everyone to give her belly a good rub. She didn’t just wag her nubbie, but her entire butt wiggled with excitement, and this would inevitably turn into an entire body wag.
Apache was most notoriously known for her idea of a “stick” at the puppy park. Most dogs choose a suitable sized stick and play away, not our Apache. Apache’s idea of a “stick” was actually a tree branch or log; the bigger the better. If she couldn’t pick it up entirely, then she would pick an end and just drag the thing behind her. Once her sister Jax, an Old English Mastiff, came along, they would use the best teamwork to carry their prized “stick” throughout the dog park. Each would hold up their end of the “stick” and they would run in synchrony.
Apache was the most loving, cuddly dog. She lived for late mornings in bed, hogging the entire thing, stretched out to her fullest, with her head resting on the pillow next to yours. She adored her baby, Kevin, and was always anxiously awaiting his return from school. She was such a beautiful soul and an amazing gift from God.