Recently, our family had to put down our long time, faithful friend Hunter. Hunter was, from what we can gather, a mixture of German Shepherd and Labrador Retriever. He was a large dog having the shepherd face and features but the playful temperament of a lab. His coat was mostly black but had the hint of tan like a shepherd especially around his neck and on his haunches. The boys chose Hunter from among a host of candidates at our local Humane Society some 16 ½ years ago, a very long life for a large dog. Each boy has his own story to tell as to how we settled on the name Hunter, the true story probably contained somewhere in each. As a pup, Hunter could easily be held in the palms of our hands; at the time of his passing he weighed close to 90 pounds—a little heavy from lack of mobility in his last days. In between, he ate anything and everything! I once saw him chase down and devour a smallish gray squirrel who wandered too far from the nearest tree. To this day I am amazed when I think about it. During his time, he discovered and ate anything left within his reach, from thawing meat to bags of chocolate (never seemed to bother him). He often tore open wrapped gifts if his nose told him something good was inside. The true story of him slinking off with the steak of a friend at a church barbecue is classic and is re-told often by those that were there. Our friend had left his plate unattended for just a minute and Hunter had the steak in his mouth and was sauntering off into the woods before anyone noticed! He often infuriated us with these types of antics, but his loyalty and loving nature always won us back.
He could always sense when someone was not feeling well and he often stayed close by. My wife, who has suffered from migraines for years, was the most frequent recipient of this loving concern. Many times I can remember Hunter lying on the bed with his head on my pillow for hours as she suffered through another migraine. In times like those, Hunter was an angel from God. As our kids grew they would often play roughly with Hunter, wrestling with him, trying to ride him like a horse. He never-and I mean never-acted in a threatening way toward them. He never growled or snapped. After a while when he had had enough, he simply got up and went into another room or jumped up onto his couch, letting them know he was done playing. He just would not get mean around people and I loved him for that.
What I remember most about Hunter was that he was a surveying dog. I was a land surveyor in Arizona for all of his life and he loved to go on surveying jobs with me. I always tried to let him go with me if I knew the survey would be in a rural area away from any complications with neighbors and their animals. I can still remember the first time he went with me as a puppy. When we were done and ready to head home, Hunter would not come to me so that I could lift him onto the front seat of the truck. I tried and tried but he was not ready and was already quick enough to stay just out of my reach! I thought I could out smart him by pretending to drive off and leave him, but that was ridiculous. By then my emotions were at the breaking point but he came finally and we headed home. If I happened to leave the truck door open during my morning preparations, I would return to find Hunter sitting patiently on the front seat of the truck, waiting to go surveying. It was hard on both of us if I had to leave Hunter home for the day. Trying to get him out of the truck and seeing his disappointment was hard on both of us. Over the years, an excited Hunter would bolt over me barely waiting until I had fully opened the door. He would immediately head into the nearby woods scouting and exploring. When he was younger he could get too far away and eventually I would spot him clear across a meadow. Once I remember seeing him over a ¼ mile away chasing some grazing heifers. I knew for sure the owner would be on my case, but I was spared. As he grew, Hunter never ventured too far away and would periodically return just to make sure I was still around. After tuckering himself out he often would come and lay in a shady area near the tripod and instrument. In the summer he loved to wallow in the mud holes or tanks to cool off and in the winter I enjoyed watching him clean his fur by rolling or swimming in a nearby snow drift. Generally, he would look for things to chase, like grounded birds, squirrels or lizards. He caught and ate whole many an unfortunate lizard. If the lizard happened to escape, Hunter would tear apart an old stump or dig and dig in the dirt to try and find it. He would dig for a while and then stick his snout into the hole and sniff a few times. Then he would come out, his nose and tongue caked with wet dirt. He would repeat the process again and again until he was satisfied the lizard had gotten away. After years of traveling with me, Hunter could distinguish the rhythm of the truck tires as it traveled over pavement and gravel. He would remain quiet in the extended cab of the truck as we rode on pavement, but once we hit the gravel roads he would become anxious for he knew the job site must be just a few minutes away!! Hunter was a dog…and from time to time he acted like a dog on the job (as with chasing those heifers or rolling in cow pies up to his neck) and so I would have to stop working and deal with Hunter, sometimes in harsh terms, But I don’t really remember those times as I do the countless wonderful times shared between master and friend. Surveying never was quite the same when Hunter was no longer able to physically make the rides.
Besides the rhythm of the truck, Hunter over time also learned when the family was leaving on a trip without him. He learned this by our suitcases. He came to realize that when the suitcases came out of hiding, the family was leaving and his disposition changed. He became on edge, a little nervous and he would lie on the floor with his head on his paws and give you that “I’m sad” look with his big, brown eyes. Once we caught on that he knew, we were careful to keep the suitcases out of his sight in another room. Hunter did get to go on one of our trips and it turned out to be an unexpected international trip. In July 2001, we were ordered to evacuate our home due to the threat caused by the huge Rodeo-Chediski wildfire burning in Arizona. Our family and my sister’s family decided to make the most of it so we headed for Rocky Point, Mexico. It was hot but Hunter endured like the rest of us. We spent a few days in motel rooms and on the beach. Hunter enjoyed laying his hot body in the shallow tidal pools with an umbrella for shade! He crossed the border each time without having to show his passport or identification which was a God thing. My two young nephews Joseph and Jacob welcomed Hunter to sleep with them in our air-conditioned motel room which Hunter greatly appreciated.
Stay tuned for Part 2!
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