TRUE DAKOTAN

 We all lose pets… when we get a cute little kitten or a puppy, nobody ever warns us that “this is going to end badly”. So we happily take the little creatures in and make them members of the family.

 

I’ve already lost a couple of good hunting dogs, and last week another good buddy of mine passed into the canine happy hunting ground.

Our son Matt’s old dog, Pete was the namesake of our first hunting dog experiment. Little Pete wasn’t especially handsome –as a matter of fact we were pretty sure his Labrador mother probably had an affair with some kind of hound. That hound/Labrador combination created a few issues in the dog’s early years, and explained his desire to leave the bird hunting party to give chase to an occasional bunny rabbit— baying as they both went over the hill. But Matt and Pete came to terms and he matured into a really good bird dog.

He developed some health issues early in life, the most problematic being hypothyroidism, a condition that put a sad look on his face and made him lose most of his hair

. When others told Matt to put the dog down, he stood beside him as if the dog was his child. During the worst part of the dog’s illness a kindly gentleman –Harold Hobbgood, from Atlanta, Georgia– heard the other hunters telling Matt to put that sad looking dog away. “Matthew,” he said in a soft southern drawl, quietly slipping him a sizeable tip as he shook his hand, “Ah can tell you have a close kinship with that dog, and Ah hope you give him one more chance with his veterinarian before you give up on him.“

Matt took the dog back to the vet clinic, had blood work done and they found medication that extended his life by six years.

Pete grew back (some of) his hair, lost the end of his tail and went on to become a valued hunting companion who, for his entire life, in sickness and in health, worked in front of hunters from across the nation.

After spending his early years at a “bachelor pad”, the dog had never been around children. But when their kids began to arrive he quickly befriended Matt and Amber’s son Layne. The two played together often, even up to three days before the old dog died. When Layne got a battery-powered F-150 Ford pickup for his third birthday, Little Pete would ride in the box as they drove around the back yard.

Now twelve years old and struggling each day, the old dog once again needed his human family to help him. And the night before he was scheduled for one last vet visit, he died quietly in his sleep. Little Pete always did whatever he could to help his master — even in his final act. And that is a good friend..

 

 

–Craig Wenzel