From the Desk of the Publisher

Good-bye to an Old Friend

Robin Goldsworthy is the publisher of the Crescenta  Valley Weekly. She can be  reached at  or (818) 248-2740.
Robin Goldsworthy is the publisher of the Crescenta
Valley Weekly. She can be
reached at
or (818) 248-2740.

Sometimes despite your best efforts it feels like you’re getting beat up by life. As most of you might remember I returned home last week from being in New Hampshire to care for my sister. At the end of two weeks, it was obvious that she still has a struggle ahead of her and I regret not being there to help her. I’m comforted knowing of the family that is surrounding her and looking after her. Returning home a week ago Sunday I found at the office a stack of projects that needed my attention. I immersed myself in business projects though I knew a much sadder job was awaiting me at home.

We got our dog Whiskey 13 years ago. A small blonde retriever who was skittish around men, Whiskey soon made it clear that I was his number one girl. It worked out pretty well too because at the time I was working out of my home, so Whiskey was either parked on the floor by my feet or near the window overlooking our front stoop keeping an eye out for anyone who might be coming to the house.

Over the years we added to our canine family but Whiskey always remained “my boy.” Well, after 13 years it was obvious that Whiskey’s time here was done. He was having trouble getting up and walking, making his way outside, but too many times his legs would give out on him and there he’d be – in the backyard shaking and waiting for someone to come help him up. For me the last straw was seeing him shivering in the backyard while the sprinklers showered him. I imagine that he was cold and confused, wondering why he was stuck out there. So it was with a heavy heart last Friday that we let Whiskey go.

Dr. JD Speas of Crescenta Cañada Pet Hospital where we have taken our dogs over the years was kind enough to come out and help Whiskey on his way. To say that my heart and the heart of my son Matthew, who was 13 when we got Whiskey, were broken is probably an understatement. I’ve never had to make a decision like that before and though my head knew that it was the right one, my heart was screaming in agony.

I cannot thank enough Dr. Speas and his staff and all of my friends who reached out via email and Facebook to express their sympathy at my loss. Whiskey was the dog that taught me how to love dogs and I would like to think that is his legacy.