Abby Cleaveland
2006-2020

Abby Cleaveland, a rescued chocolate Labrador who once rode in the back of a squad car and who starred in a short video and food column for Northwest Catholic magazine, died Aug. 24, 2020 of age-related causes. She was 14 years old.

Abby was born in the spring of 2006 in Wasco County, Ore. She spent her first three years as “Gabi” in Wheeler County, Oregon’s least populous with 15,000 residents. Her people bought her after seeing an ad in a Columbia Gorge newspaper.

By all accounts, the family cherished her, but they ran into tough times during the 2008 housing crash. By 2009, the bank had foreclosed on their home, and Abby was sent to Home at Last, a no-kill shelter based in The Dalles, Ore.

That’s where Ruben Cleaveland spotted her. He insisted that his mom, Janet Cleaveland, adopt the dog. At first, Janet resisted.

“Try her for a week,” Ruben told his mom. “I’ll do the paperwork.” The week turned into more than 10 years.

When Janet picked up Abby at foster care in November 2009, the dog readily hopped into the station wagon and never looked back. As they made their way to her new home in Vancouver, Wash., Abby reached a tentative paw across the console, asking for reassuring scratches behind her ears. Janet obliged and renamed her “Abby” because “Gabi” didn’t seem to fit the quiet, loving canine.

Abby quickly adapted to her new home. Because she had spent the first three years on the high desert with scrub pines, she was fascinated when she saw the wind swaying the tall fir trees in Vancouver. She didn’t know how to swim until Ruben brought his dog, Rigby, to the Vancouver house. Rigby ran to the river to swim for sticks. Abby stood on shore at first, dipping a toe in the water. But then her competitive spirit kicked in, and she raced Rigby for a stick, surprising herself as she learned to swim against the Columbia River’s current.

She never got over the thought of being separated from Janet. One afternoon, Janet and her husband, David, were visiting their son Raymond. Janet had tied Abby to a plastic chair outside Starbucks in downtown Kent, Wash., so she could order a coffee and then wait for it outside with Abby. It would be just a minute to complete the transaction. Abby, however, panicked and took off down the busy main street dragging the chair with her leash still attached. An officer in a cruiser noticed Janet in a panic and asked what had happened. “What’s her name?” he asked. Then he joined the chase, using his overhead lights and whoop-whoop siren to catch up with Abby girl.

She was headed to busy W. Willis Street and 4^th, four lanes wide with left-turn lanes to boot.

Abby had no idea where she was going, but the officer spotted her dodging traffic. (A bystander tried to intercept her, but she shook her head and slipped out of her collar, jettisoned the chair and took off again.) The Kent cop activated his loud speaker and called her name as traffic screeched to a stop. That caught her attention. When he opened the door to the cruiser, she hopped right in, recognizing the car as a safe place. The officer found Janet still on the sidewalk three blocks away and turned Abby over, saying, "She's a nice dog. Have good day."

Janet never wanted a Labrador, often saying that they were too common. But she learned why they are common: They are kind, loyal, loving and always looking for a good time.

When Janet wrote her first food column for Northwest Catholic, she chose dog biscuits to mark St. Dominic’s feast day. Abby gladly posed for pictures, knowing that a homemade treat was close at hand. Part of the story includes video featuring Abby looking with longing at the dog biscuits.

Abby had two other close calls, both landing her in Columbia River Veterinary Specialists for a few nights. The first was when she ate long grass — lots of it. It plugged her small intestine and the opening where stomach contents dump into the small intestine. That incident required surgery in the middle of the night and a long recovery. The second was when she ran to the river and found a rotting salmon on the bank. She gorged on the decaying fish, acquiring salmon poisoning. Janet took her to the vet and got antibiotics, but Abby was so sick that the drugs didn’t cut it. Early on the fifth day, Janet took her to Columbia River Veterinary Specialists, where they started an IV drip of high-powered antibiotics. Twenty-four hours later, her fever broke and Abby began to recover.

Abby is survived by her human family: David, Janet, Ruben, Sheri, John, Raymond, Selah and Ben Cleaveland. She also leaves her best dog buddy, Rigby.