There are few times in life when we have the opportunity to personally know a legend and when you have that honor it’s always memorable. Some are legends because of skill, some because of how they make you feel and some because of how they live life. Riggs was all of that and more.

His talent was apparent from the time he walked onto the field till the last ewe walked into the pen. Strong, powerful and athletic, he covered ground easily and quickly; there wasn’t anything he couldn’t move. Yet he was sensitive and knew when a mere tilt of his head was all that was needed to convince a wayward ewe to rejoin the group. He was a master of communication.

It would take all night to list all of Riggs’ accomplishments, all of the trials he’s won. Yet his most important legacy is one you’ll never read in a book or see framed on a wall. His greatest legacy is showing us how it could be. How it should be. I doubt anyone knows how many times he and Patrick walked to the post. But every time, each and every time, they did it together. They were partners. Together they showed us what it means to trust your dog and to have your dog’s trust. Often times Patrick’s command was sometimes nothing more than Riggs’ name – but that was enough for Riggs. Their connection, their bond, was palpable and unmistakable.  It wasn’t something you saw—it was something you felt when you watched them. You could tell this wasn’t just any team. You could feel the magic. Together they gave us something to aspire to – not the fame or the winning for those are fleeting—but the partnership. The we’re-in-this-together feeling. The mutual respect and love. Those are the things Riggs taught us. Those are his legacy.

Off the field Riggs was a kind, dignified, well-mannered gentleman. He was silly and funny and welcoming. He was a chore dog and a running partner. A companion and a friend.

Some say that the truly great ones are the ones who can also pass it along. Maybe that’s true. I don’t know. I do know that many of Riggs’ sons and daughters have proven themselves in many different venues. They are agility dogs, search and rescue dogs, sheep dogs and pets.

It’s never easy to say good-bye. It’s always too soon. Riggs’ passing has left a hole in the sport and in the lives of those who knew and loved him.  But his legacy will live on. Not only in his sons and daughters, but in our hearts. When I walk out onto the field at home or at a trial, and I send my dog, I’ll remember Riggs and his connection to Patrick. I’ll remember how it looked. Remember how it felt. I’ll think about trust and communication and respect—on and off the field. I’ll think about all he taught us and all he gave us. And maybe, just maybe, I can capture some of that magic.

That’ll do, Riggs.  Rest in Peace.