05/13/2026
Rest In Peace Korra ❤️
From her family:
THE LEGEND OF OUR OWN KORRA
Korra grew up in the rugged mountains and creeks of Colorado. From the beginning, Korra was enamored of sticks. Any sticks. Fallen branches, limbs, some might qualify as logs. When her mom adopted a baby sister, Rikku, one of her first responsibilities was to teach little Rikku the fine art of stick culture.
As time wore on, she so admired Rikku for her amazing height. "Wow," she said, "You sure growed up fast!"
Such a pair those two were. Alerting each other when one of them spied something rebarkable. Lately, living on the corner of two busy streets there was always something that needed barking about. Kids walking to the school bus/baby carriages being pushed nearby/dogs of every variety being walked RIGHT PAST THEIR HOUSE--of all the nerve! Creatures of all varieties lived in their back field--raccoons, opossums, deer, those scary bunnies. All needed to be patrolled by the great Korra-Rikku team. Especially O W L S. Barred owls were their natural nemesis. Running out on the deck at night to fend off the local owl chorus was really something to experience. Yes, it is true. Korra and Rikku could make more noise than a covey of owls.
But Korra's lifelong pursuit of the game, Sticks in the Creek, was fulfilled in her own yard. Only the creek freezing over during the winter could staunch her rush to the field and creek many times a day. She was able to convince family members, friends, guys working around the house, anyone, to throw a stick into the creek so she could jump in, capture it and swim it out only to drag it along the bank to the spot where she had made a port for pushing her stick in all by herself. Even up to the very end she would drag her stick to the port, scratch it into position, then plop it into the water. Seeing that splash was reason for celebration. What an accomplishment!
The one! The only! The Korra!
HAPPIEST DOG IN AMERICA