Those posts were about a dog that I allowed the kids to name. They called him Mr. Lightning. The "Mr." was because he was a boy dog. That our dog be a boy was very important to my son. "Lightning" because they thought he was a fast runner.
I had great expectations for Mr. Lightning. I missed my Abby terribly after putting her down, and I had high hopes for another hunting dog. Except things didn't work out that way. As times got tougher I didn't have money to train the dog on live birds or even take him hunting. We didn't go even once.
Mr. Lightning pointed, stalked every bird, ground squirrel and rabbit that came in our yard. He had the pedigree and the natural instinct to be a solid hunter. I never took him, because money. Bad owner. Bad.
Mr. Lightning has been living in Michigan since October. The in-laws have a large yard and Mr. Lightning has had about 20 acres of freedom to run in everyday. There have been lots of critters to sniff out and trees and bushes to explore. He's loved it.
A few weeks back the kids and him were playing behind the house and Mr. Lightning growled at my daughter. He got between her and the large pile of brush and dead tree branches. He keep pushing her back. Little Ms just wanted a closer look, but Mr. Lightning wouldn't let her have one.
It seems that little girls believe that all cute furry woodland creatures, are just that. They are cute. They are furry. They want to be petted. The German Wirehaired Pointer knows better. Mr. Lightning wouldn't let my daughter pet the raccoon that she saw in the brush pile.
At some point, I'm not sure which or exactly what happened, as I was told the story second hand over the phone, Mr. Lightning chased the coon up a tall pine tree. This effectively ended any chance my daughter had of
Yesterday Mrs Ipsa took Mr. Lightning to the vet. Mrs Ipsa thought he was going blind. He wasn't. The most likely diagnosis was a brain tumor. This is unusual in a 5 year old wirehair but not impossible. Today he fell in a ditch full of water and could not stand up and shake himself off. He made one final trip to the vet.
I received this email when I got up this morning:
RIP Lightning. Ear scratches, belly rubs and kisses given in your honor. Very good puppy! He had one last run today but stumbled a few times. Kids are sad but dealing with it. He is buried in the woods under large pine trees.
Mr. Lightning never got to go bird hunting. His hunts were confined to the back yard. When it counted he knew what to do about a coon.
Mr. Lightning jager drathaar. Good boy. Goodbye.
My condolences to you and your family. Five years does not seem long enough.
ReplyDeleteYou are a good friend. As I'm typing this my son is talking to me about loosing his dog.
ReplyDeleteHow do I tell a boy not to cry when I want to myself?
That's tough, man. Prayers.
ReplyDeleteHey Res,
ReplyDeleteNever commented here but often ghost this site usually off others in the circle, mostly off of Vox's site. Sorry for you. A good dog is hard to find. Had the ashes for a year now, best dog I ever had. Your post helped me decide where she belongs, under the lilac bush she would lay under in those last few days. Sounds like she was a lot like yours. You'll find another of course. Didn't cry when she died but since, no lie, sometimes I shed a tear for my furry friend and like Bane once said, make fun of me for crying and I'll blow my nose in your girlfriends hair then punch you in the face. ��
BTW, keep up the Losing my Religion posts please. I know it's hard but it means a lot to people like me who can relate.
Johnny,
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by. I should be back on line by next Friday.
Thanks. Looking forward...
ReplyDelete