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Goodnight, Sweet Boy

Some Mondays are way, way worse than others. It is with heavy hearts that John and I tell you our crazy boy Takoda is no more. Our big, furry monster decided to go for an unsupervised run yesterday at noon and didn’t come back. We whistled and called and called and whistled. He came home three times and from 20 feet away he looked at us and grinned and took off again, white flag tail high. He was not a dog who listened well, he thought little of commands and direct orders. And it has been really cold, so he had been more confined than usual.

We live in the country, you know. He was shot on a neighboring farm – someone thought he was a threat to livestock. It’s breaking our hearts, but we understand how it happened. There was a killer pack of dogs around here until a month or so ago, they did a lot of damage. Some of the farmers are justifiably trigger happy. He never knew what hit him, we don’t think he suffered at all.

John picked Takoda up in his pick up and brought the boy home. We loved on his big, warm and furry body and buried him in the woods at the back of our land. Takoda liked to dig holes and chase moles and jump in the leaves back in those woods.

We loved this boy hard for the fourteen months he was ours.

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