We don’t think there is just one word that can be used to describe Derby. He was intensely loyal, clever, observant, stoic, persistent, athletic, daring, dependable, trustworthy, and quite the foodie 
One would never describe him as affectionate – except for his mama. He was our best friend.
In his 16 years with us, we went through so much together. From college living to Atlanta and full-time jobs. From an apartment to a house. From being the only dog to one of 4 (that’s not even counting all the foster dogs he suffered through.) And lastly, joining us on our great adventure in Horton. Not having him by our side is surreal and the loss we feel is beyond words.
Brent was the lucky one to have known Derby since he was a puppy. Like all pups Derby chewed (shoes, sunglasses, carpet, etc) and had selective hearing at times 
His desire for a swim far outweighed Brent’s words of “NO!” as Brent was headed off to class. Besides the usual training – sit, stay, etc, Brent taught Derby that bringing his sneakers over meant that it was time to go for a walk. If you weren’t paying attention you’d look down and see every shoe in the house piled up beside you. Derby loved Auburn because there was always someone to play with him.
At Auburn, Derby was still a man’s man of a dog. If you tried to pet him, he’d move just far enough away to be close but not touched. Brent says I took care of that and turned him into a Mama’s Boy. I’m not sorry. As Derby got older he accepted more attention from others but for the most part he was stingy with his affection giving and receiving.
He loved being outdoors and could never get enough of it but not by himself. He always wanted someone out with him. He’d stare at the door waiting for you to come outside if you didn’t immediately go out with him. Then once outside if you tried to finish up before he was ready, he’d herd you away from your path back to the house.
He really was something with a frisbee. He could jump so high (around 6′) to catch one. He rarely missed catching one and the times he did was mostly human error. He also loved retrieving sticks – in the yard or the water – he couldn’t get enough. If there wasn’t a stick handy, he’d sometimes get his own by jumping into a tree and grabbing a branch to make one. The size of a stick didn’t matter either. Many a time did he drag a huge limb (more like a log) over to be thrown. We had special games we’d play inside too. The upstairs hall made for a great ball playing area. When we were getting the house ready to sell, we chuckled as we cleaned up those walls from slobber and covered up the doggy nail scratches from all the times Derby used the wall as a launching pad.
Derby was pretty good about allowing you to sleep and not waking you up too early, but when he was ready he’d lay his head on the bed in front of your face and stare at you. If that didn’t wake you up he’d wiggle his chin down into the bed to create just enough disturbance to wake you. Derby used his stare tactic often to let you know he wanted something. He could communicate so much with his eyes.
He was a pretty serious dog and wasn’t one for breaking “the rules.” There were times that we’d come home from being gone and Derby would greet us with a look in his eyes and head down alerting us something naughty had happened. It didn’t matter that he didn’t do it – but he witnessed it – and that was bad enough. From Foster chewing up stuff to Shelby getting in the trash – one look at Derby and we knew to be prepared and look for trouble as we walked in. There is one thing Derby did that he knew was not good but decided the joy overrode any repercussions… cow poop. Brent’s parents have cows that live around them and a visit to them was never perfect for Derby unless he snuck off to roll in some poop. I can vividly remember one morning as we were packing up to head home that Derby ran off and when he returned he had a huge smile on his face. As he got closer and closer you could see something looked a bit odd…he looked…crusty. He had rolled in so much poop his fur was stiff and sticking out all over. He hated baths but I think that one was totally worth it to him.
Derby was a people dog by far. He got along great with other dogs, but wasn’t a dog’s dog. He never really played with other dogs. He hung out with them. Hunted critters with them. But playing, wrestling, chasing another dog – wasn’t his thing. He’d much prefer to be with you then be out with the dogs. He was so funny and smart. When at Brent’s parents house, he’d trick the other dogs into going outside by running to the door and barking. The other dogs then assumed something was going on outside and they’d run to the door. Someone would then open the door and everyone would go run outside except Derby. Yep. He’d walk back with a smug look on his face and lay down next to you happy. He had the house all to himself.
We never would have guessed Derby would have been the last dog standing. He’d been sick for so long. I can only imagine his thoughts – “I made it… I outlived them all! Just me and Mom and Dad. Just like the good ole days.”
We love you Derbino.
