The trail dog passed on Thursday, Jan 25; lymphoma finally got the best of him. His body was full of cancer, but he was a trail dog to the end. He wanted to show me that he could hunt for me, even when he could barely catch his breath. It was heartbreaking to watch him die, but at least he is no longer suffering.
After I buried my trusty friend, I decided I would take off early on Friday and go for a multi-day kayak-camping trip … alone. I’m not sure what I was thinking, really.
I am writing this blog entry from a hammock in the Croatan, where I enjoyed a beautiful night with a nearly full moon, mostly clear skies and very mild temperatures. However, it’s impossible not to think about my old dog and how much he would enjoy being in the woods with me, and that I’m feeling very lonely.
I guess being home wouldn’t be better, and I’d be squandering this wonderful weather. As I write this, it’s close to 70 degrees Fahrenheit (21 C). The sun was shining when I got up and made breakfast. It is overcast now (around lunch time), but it looks like the rain is going to hold off until tonight. I may or may not spend another night in the forest. My plan is to have lunch, break camp, and paddle up Hunter’s Creek as far as I can. I could spend tonight at Long Point, or in my bed. I’m just drifting, and trying to both honor the memory of the trail dog, and also give myself space to heal.
A Little History on Trail Dog
I adopted Trail Dog right after his ninth birthday. He was born Sept 28, 2012. He was a hunting dog that had been dropped off at the shelter because he allegedly would no longer hunt. I must say, although I don’t really hunt anymore, he sure seemed eager to hunt for me. My plan was just to spoil him and give him a taste of the easy life in his retirement. He did get used to living inside with me and eating all sorts of good food. He went from 45 lbs to 60 lbs on my watch. However, he never lost his lust for adventure. About the only thing I couldn’t get him to do was ride in a kayak. Otherwise, he’d swim, cross revines on logs, slog through mud, and pretty much go wherever I would lead, and lots of places that I couldn’t even follow.
Trail dog was infected with heartworms when I adopted him, so his years were probably limited, but that’s not what took him down. A few months ago, I noticed two lumps in his neck. I took him to the vet and she told me that it was most likely lymphoma (cancer). The meds helped slow the progression of the cancer and he held out longer than we expected. I really spoiled him the last couple of months, and I think that made his passing even harder for me. I don’t regret spoiling him … I would regret it if I hadn’t spoiled him, but I was giving him most of my attention and affection, and now I just feel a huge void.
All things come to an end. I’m sure this too shall pass, but I will never forget Trail Dog. He taught me that it really is hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but an old dog could teach this old man some valuable lessons in patience, empathy, and perseverance.
Such a cute poochie…….rest in peace John Boy.