End of Days

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Surely, there is going to be a flash of blue lightning like the one that smote the Lorax, promising his return if and when the world needed his skills again. Or at least a spectacular KABOOM. For all the superlative emotions this dog provoked in his lifelong attempts to challenge our ability to keep the three of us alive – and sane – it never seemed possible that we would reach a day where his physical machinery would wear so thin it simply failed to generate the kind of power that once saw him catch an adult turkey out of the air, vault raging rivers, deftly enter / exit a canoe with nary a ripple (except for that incident involving the diving Osprey), but here we are.

We reached a point where the supercomputer between his ears began to pop and sizzle at sundown, while the net power supply to primary structures was hardly enough to sustain his position for more than a few seconds in a stiff wind. When at last his drive for continuous motion outlasted his ability to move without injury, we sought out the help of our beloved Veterinarian, to set him on that final journey to peace.

If you knew Walker, you knew he was not an affectionate dog, at least not in the usual touchy-feely Labrador way, but once we learned to speak his language, he was happy to meet us halfway. He taught us an awful lot about dogs, and maybe a little more about ourselves. Tonight, we sat with Walker on a thick blanket in the sun-soaked meadow with Dr. Hyde until Walker passed, while he patiently listened to 100 snippets of Walker’s exploits…That time he took off for Glen Cliff Home and a resident let him in (and the 2 times after that), and the time I thought he had been in a traffic accident in the ADKs but really he had high-tailed it to a fly Fishing Camp, and the time he hiked over McKenzie Pass without me and spent the afternoon riding around with the maintenance manager at WhiteFace golf club before being picked up by Dave, and the time he introduced us to see Steve and Laura Sabre by being lost on a day that Steve was out looking for his own dog. That was one of three excursions to Steve that I remember, counting the time we used Walker to locate Steve so that Dave could help him pack out the spoils of a successful Moose hunt. And then there was the time I lost him on a mountain in the ADKs, only to catch up with a family who told me they loved this dog so much he was going to be in their family Christmas photo.

That was really his shtick: Master con-artist, living for the moment and always accessing the best gifts the world could give him – or that he could get away with. He was never truly a “good boy,” but always our “good-’nuff boy”. There have been better dogs, by most metrics. If you’re familiar with Rick McIntyre’s series on the Wolves of Yellowstone you know that Wolf 8 and Wolf 21 were generous and noble creatures, masters of their craft, defenders of family and kingdom. This is not that dog. He seems more akin to that Wolf 302, Casanova. He was the Renegade who looked after himself but enjoyed life in a high risk – high reward kind of way, yet after a surprisingly long lifetime considering his exploits, he saved the Druid pack from certain ruin. That is Walker’s legacy too. Whatever happens next is up to the pack.

-Rascal chaser, over and out over and out