We Have a Big Dog – Part Two of Three

Continued from Monday, September 29, 2008

The Heartbreak

From time to time, we would hear a commotion in the front yard when Ike was out there. Usually, it was because he had spotted a cat across the street; when this happened, he would bark and growl loudly, and lurch against the chain trying to break it. It was a very strong twenty-foot chain, hooked to a steel stake driven deeply into the ground. He had never managed to free himself—until one day when the steel ring on his collar gave out.

It happened quickly. He apparently spied a cat on the other side of the road, and we were both in the house when we heard a loud "rattle." I lived in the country, and I had heard that sound before—it was the same sound that the metal sideboards on a livestock truck make when the truck hits a pothole.

This time, it was not a pothole. I looked out the front door, and saw Ike's motionless body in the middle of the road. Whatever vehicle had struck him had gone. Cringing, I went out to the road, knelt down, and Ike was still barely conscious. Conscious enough that he looked directly at my face, then gave me a goodbye lick on the hand, just before he took his last breath. He had massive internal injuries from the wheels of a large vehicle.

Ike has been gone for nearly three years, but he is still alive in our memories. The kids still speak of his antics, such as the fact that we never had to get his leash to take him outside, because he would always bring it to us when he wanted to go to the bathroom or get some air. Or the fact that a stranger could not get near any of us when Ike was near, without being subjected to large, scary fangs and threatening growls. That is, until we told Ike that this person was okay. Then he was fine.

With the help of a neighbor, I buried Ike in our back yard. We had to dig a large hole, and the ground there is very rocky and hard. I wanted to get it done before the kids got home from school, though. I had just finished the job when the school bus pulled up.

The kids were very upset, of course, and Josh (who was twelve years old at the time) decided to make him a special monument. He built a cross, and affixed a picture of Ike to it. It was really a very touching and reverent monument, very fitting for this prince of a dog.

We never intended to "replace" Ike, for he would be a tough act to follow. But fate had other things in mind.