Our family shrank by 4 feet last night

This morning my mother called to let us know that their dog, Ike, passed away during the night. Ike was, as they put it, "90 years old in dog years" and had been experiencing some health problems for a while. The death of an old dog who has led a very long, happy life is less tragic than when a young dog passes before his time - but it's no less traumatic for my mom and her husband who have been greeted by Ike's big old snarfing face and wagging tail every day when they arrive home. (Although the "snarfing" was a more recent characteristic, part of the respiratory difficulties he seemed to be experiencing in his advancing age.) He's been my stepfather's hunting companion for over a decade, one of the nicest and most finely trained dogs I've known, and his demeanor made it easy for him to endear himself to anyone.




The funniest part of this next picture is the "Warning: Guard Dog" sign on the gate. Ike was about as fierce as an Easter Peep™. Nicholas will be sad the first time he doesn't get to see Ike running up to the gate when we pull into the driveway. He always likes to stick a hand in there to say his hellos to both of the dogs, but Ike's older age made him considerably more mellow and Nicholas could often be found whispering "You're my favorite" to Ike much like he whispers it to our gray cat when the orange one isn't listening. We take care of feeding the dogs a lot when my mom and her husband are traveling, and Nicholas was already aware that Ike was experiencing some health problems and was much older than he is. So while it won't necessarily seem like news that came out of the blue, it will still be sad for him to hear.





My mom and her husband still have an English Setter named Raleigh. He's a young dog, coming into his own as a hunting companion. He would probably best fall into the category of "whippersnapper" - a wily creature with personality to spare. Recently my stepfather dyed his fur brunette for duck hunting season and we all crack up every time we arrive at the house because he looks as though he's been rolling in a mud pit. Apparently it's not easy to make a dog wait the 20 minutes for their hair color to set. Here's Nicholas serenading Raleigh in the summer of 2006, back when he was still a platinum blonde.





Even when they're the furry kind, it's always hard to lose a member of your family. But we'll always have the memories of his big snarfing face.