Love, Life and The Dismal River

    I can still remember the first time I saw her.  Instantly I knew she was different.  It was the beginning of my senior year at a small college in Eastern Nebraska.  It was one of those colleges small enough where you knew almost everyone.  You may have not known their name, but you knew what group they associated with or what sport they played...they had their place on campus.  This girl was different.  I didn't know her.  I figured she was a freshman.  We were at a college party.  I could tell she was with a group of girls.  The rest of the girls were fraternizing with upper classmen.  Enjoying their new found freedom.  This one was different than the rest.  She was reserved.  I could tell she was independent.  Possibly shy, but confidant.  

    I was at a point in my life where I was a little lost.  I was in my senior year not knowing yet what the future had in store for me.  I had been in a roller coaster three year on and off relationship that ended with her transferring colleges and me staying.  My football career was stale.  I had started as a sophomore and knew I could hang with the big boys but my junior year was ended with an injury.  Now, as a senior, I was back on the field, but still nursing the injury and didn't understand why.  I would find out later that I had a bone infection and I was just a lame horse on the field.  The inability to succeed was slowly eating at me.  I wasn't really looking for a relationship, I was just ready for the next chapter in life.

    By this point, I had possibly caught her eye.  I am not sure if she noticed me in the same fashion, or noticed me at all.  It was a party with a lot of people.  Solo red cups and a blur of bodies.  I smiled and approached her.  "Where are you from?" I asked.  "A small town in Western Nebraska." She replied with a smile.  "I am sure you have never heard of it." Home is what I thought.   "Try me." I replied.   "Stapleton" she proclaimed with a confidant smile knowing I had never heard of Stapleton...or thinking she knew I had never heard of Stapleton.  My smile grew bigger...Home or at least the closest neighboring town to it.  "What is your last name?" "Kramer" she replied.   "Who's your older brother?" I asked.....

    Fast forward 19 years.  We married in 2004 and on June 5th it will be 16 years.  When I noticed the confidence and independence in her I had no idea what I was getting into.  Sometimes I feel we are both too bull headed to have a good marriage.  We are like two rocks on a rocky shoreline.  As the waves come in and out, you can hear the rocks clattering against each other.  Slowly eroding away at one another.  A long and lengthy process.  We are both the rocks.  Too bold and hard to give in, but our marriage is like the waves making us move together.  We may not have a good marriage, but it is perfect.  She is a hardened woman.  The years growing up on the ranch have made her into what she is today.  You won't and can't outwork this one.  I would strongly advise you to not stand on the tracks when the train is coming through.   She will run you over.  All of these characteristics, these attributes have turned her into a great life companion.  A great partner...An even greater canoe partner.

    The COVID-19 pandemic hit.  The mixed feelings of the virus.  How the US should react, how we should fix situation.  The conspiracy theories, the politics.  It has made the perfect storm.  Liz is a professional now.  A "healthcare worker".  Your thoughts and feelings of what the pandemic is or should be doesn't matter.  You are slated to your patients and customers.  Their thoughts and feelings are forced on you and Liz always keeps patient care as her top priority.  As the storm of the virus persists, I could tell it was weathering her.  It was her idea.  Liz said she needed to get away.  She proposed the idea.  "Lets run the Dismal..just you and I."

    This Dismal run wasn't the first rodeo for us.  We had run it before.  My older brother and I joked that the Dismal was a good test for any girl we dated.  Maybe a little archaic view in the current times, but the Dismal is also known as the "Divorce River" and I have seen it break relationships in the past.  Liz and I had canoed the Dismal while we were dating and done well.  We have gone on many trips together since.  Even one with a loaded canoe where we ran both major sections and camped on the river.  For Liz, I think this trip was different.  She needed a break.  For me, I didn't need an excuse, I grew up on that river.

    Almost every bend on that river has a memory.  I can remember certain conversations on the banks...  group gatherings to wait out the rain.  My best friend and I concreted a life long friendship on the Dismal.  Him and I often were invited to go on his older sibling's trips.  We were probably around 8 or 9 when he began being my bowman and me his stern paddler.  We weren't strong enough to properly get the water our of a capsized canoe.  We would drag the waterlogged boat to a shallow spot along a bank. We would both get in the middle of the canoe and heave with all our might to roll the canoe up on the bank.  Probably not a text book maneuver, but it always worked.  His parents later hired me to work on their ranch.  I am not sure how much of an asset I was to them as a hired man, but their influence in my life has been an asset to me.  Justin's and my friendship continued.  We were the Best Man in each other's weddings and even today when we need a sounding board in life, we give each other a call.  He has been a great bowman.  Helping me with every turn in life.

    My Dad shuttled us to the put in spot on Highway 97.  Liz and I got the canoe loaded and started our trip.  I packed a saw on this particular trip.  The Dismal is known for its challenges and its greatest hurdles are the endless cedar trees that make their way into the river.  For me, the Eastern Red Cedar is a sign of wilderness on the prairie and the Dismal has plenty of cedars and with that, plenty of wilderness.

    The Dismal is a spring fed river.  There are signs of spring activity everywhere you look.  Sometimes just a drip or trickle, other times you can hear and see small creeks feeding the river.  The source of the water is always nearby.  Nebraska's greatest natural resource is it's water. The Ogallala Aquifer is one of the largest in the World and Nebraska sits right in the middle of it.  In the Sandhills, signs of our water wealth are everywhere.  The rivers, wetlands and windmills are all indicative of the vast supply of water under its soil.

    

    The first two hours on the Dismal are probably the hardest from the Highway 97 bridge.  The river valley is narrow which has allowed the river to erode the sandy banks along the bends.  It's almost like a slow conveyor belt of cedars that fall in the river.  Once one tree has made its way into it's waters, the river starts eroding the bank under the next one...and then the next one after that.  The cedar is known for it's resistance against rot, so once a tree makes its way into the river, it almost becomes a permanent "strainer", a water feature that can last for years.

    Liz has been my bowman for years now.  Her ranching heritage makes her a strong paddler.  I was nervous starting.  I wanted her to enjoy herself, she needed the break and I didn't want the challenge of the Dismal to ruin our day.  The first bend presented its first challenge, its first tree and our first strainer.  I knelt in the stern, bracing my knees against the sides of the canoe to lower my center of gravity and to give me more stability and power in my strokes.  I began to give the canoe a hard back-paddle, slowing us down.  She knew instantly what to do.  She began turning the canoe in the bow.  Her paddle strokes were strong and powerful.  We didn't have to speak much anymore besides give words of encouragement.  "Nice job, Honey, nice job" I said in a calm and solemn way.  We had been here before and could feel each other in the canoe.  We were a team, a lifelong marriage and partnership.  The first challenge was behind us.  We sailed through it with no problems.  My nerves calmed.  I could now enjoy the day.

    

    The endless trees and endless strainers came at us.  We tackled one right after another without much difficulty.  The few that did present a challenge I used my saw on.  Cutting away some of the branches or possibly the trunk to give way for the next group of paddlers.  We never raised our voices.  Some spots were a little hairier then others and my words would change to "Dig Honey, Dig" as she dug hard into the water gripping for those strong paddles strokes.  A couple places there was just too much timber to make it through on the water, so we had to portage the canoe.  Fitting I thought, she and I have added a lot to our lives together.  A marriage, careers, and two beautiful daughters.  Fitting that we were now pushing and pulling this canoe together, a small resemblance to our marriage.  I couldn't ask for a better person to push and pull with in this thing called life...

    As our marriage has aged, Liz and I have become less interested in the materials in life and more interested in nature and travel.  We have become "naturalists".  More of a hobby than anything.  Trying to identify the different species of birds, the grasses, the trees...  The Dismal on this day had plenty of nature on display.  There were countless species of birds.  Kingfishers, Cardinals, Brown Thrashers and Golden Finches were all abundant and weren't afraid of singing their song to show their presence.  We seen two porcupine in two different locations.  It seemed that we were the only ones on the river and we were able to sneak up on several deer.  Some were never disturbed by our presence.  After 16 years, Liz and I were settled into our marriage.  There was no need of useless verbiage to fill our day.  We knew each others wants, dreams and desires.  We knew what we wanted for our girls and what we hoped for their futures.  We chatted some, but were comfortable in our silence and the sounds that nature provided for us.  As we sat eating our lunch at the "Boiling Springs", watching the spring burp and bubble water, I looked at Liz and smiled.  "It's amazing how noisy it is when you actually listen."  Liz smiled and laughed.  There were multiple Cardinals stating their presence.  The Brown Thrasher kept cycling through its different songs.  The Red Wing Black Bird was announcing its territory with its fluttering call.  It was almost like being in a stadium at a football game.  Sounds that you can only hear if you listen...

    The "Falls" posed no challenge.  In fact, Liz and I didn't even scout them.  With the confidence we had in each other at this point, we knew we could run them.  We shot right through.  Liz called the line and I followed.  We smiled together.  We felt as though we were tackling the World today.

    There were still more trees and more strainers to work through.  After the Boiling Springs, the Dismal River Valley really opens up.  The challenges become less frequent and the Dismal decides to relax and go easy on its paddlers for a bit.  By this time, our take out point is near.  We don't have far before we reach the Seneca Bridge.

    We finished our day sooner than what I anticipated.  We had an hour before my Father would meet us for the shuttle ride home.  We walked around a bit and I told Liz of my childhood...again.  She smiled and listened as I recounted the endless camping stories at the Seneca Bridge.  My Grandmother was born not far from there.  She was one of the first of her siblings to be born in the Sandhills.  My Aunt owned the land at the Seneca Bridge when I was a kid, we had a "Counsins Campout" almost every year.  My Aunt was the glue in my Dad's family that kept us all together.  She made sure everything was perfect, and it was.  When she passed, the glue was gone.  The land sold and with it, the campouts I loved so much.  

    We finally laid down next to the canoe on the bank.  I was on my back with my cap over my eyes and Liz used me as a pillow as we waited for our ride.  To be honest, I could have waited there all day.  I was content and so was Liz.

    "Love, Life and The Dismal River" all has its challenges.  To be honest, I have scars from all three.  What the Dismal has taught me is that as long as I have a strong bowman at my side, I can take the challenges on and tackle all three.  If you have a good marriage, don't run the Dismal.  If you have a perfect marriage, give it a whirl.  More than likely you will walk away stronger than what you were before...

To my wife Liz, thank you for being my rock, my life and my love...

    

    

    

    

The Story of an Extraordinary Dog

I have quite often heard that "there is no such thing as a bad dog, only a bad owner."  Does this mean that all dogs are good?  What if you happen to have a dog in your life that wasn’t just average?  Just a normal good dog.  What if you happen to have a dog in your life that was..extraordinary?  I believe that I had such a dog.  This is her story..

Daisey’s story is one that started with kindness and ended with love.  It could be compared to a modern day Jack London story.  I happened to be on an outdoor forum.  This was before the existence of “social media”.  I believe “My Space” was a thing, but I never had the computer knowledge to understand how it worked.  This was the day of “Forums”.  A topic was started and then there were endless responses called threads I believe.  One day, a member of the forum mentioned he had beagles for sale.  He didn’t mention price or location, but it did strike my interest.  I responded asking for more details.  I don’t even remember what his asking price was on his beagles, but his location was near Humbolt, NE.  As I was looking at a map, I found that Humbolt was on the other end of the state from me and I decided it was too far to drive just to go get a dog.  The seller then asked a few questions about our family dynamics, why I wanted a beagle..  I answered and told him Humbolt was just a little far for me to drive.  I seriously was not using it as bargaining leverage.  Humbolt was a ways from McCook.  I think a day or two passed and the guy told me if I was willing to make the drive, he would give her to me.  It sounded like she would have a good home.  The deal was made.  Looking back, I think this was the turning point for Daisey.  The start of what made her extraordinary...a random act of kindness.  Something that seems to be hard to find during the current trying times.

The day came, I traveled across the state to Humbolt.  The exchange was cordial and quiet.  Not a lot of words.  Daisey even came with papers since she was a purebred.  Not bad for a free dog!  I set Daisey on my lap and we drove back across the state.  She was supposed to be a family dog.  One that my daughter Addison could grow up with.  A Disney story possibly.  They could be pals and would form a bond.  Daisey did become a family dog.  We all loved her.  She had a bond with everyone.  But, on that day as we traveled home, Daisey on my lap, a different bond was formed.  It was truly a four legged love affair.  From that day forward, Daisey and I had a special bond.  One that will never be forgotten.

I think Daisey's introduction into our family was typical of that of most puppies. We already had another beagle, our first child, Bailey. We had then decided to have another child, the two legged kind instead of the four. I think this is the typical evolution of most marriages. You start with a dog, see how your new life partner nurtures and if it goes well, you begin to add two legged creatures into your home. Addison was a little over a year old now. She was walking and pulling ears on everything she could. Bailey had found patience for her two legged sister and we hoped that they would have patience for yet another four legged sibling. Looking back, I am not sure if we were building a family or if we were building a zoo.

Daisey and Addison loved to play! Addison figured out that if she found a long piece of string, cloth or towel that Daisey would chase her. Grabbing and tugging as most puppies do. It was purely primal entertainment. Simplified. Chase or be chased. That was it. For Daisey and I, this was the beginning of our walks. Since we already had another beagle, I would load them up in my pickup, roll down the passenger window and their heads and noses would be hanging out. Catching the aromas of the neighborhood and then on into the countryside. I would take them for walks out in the canyons of southwest Nebraska. Usually plenty of prairie, plenty of Eastern Red Cedar and that usually housed plenty of bunnies. Anyone that has owned hounds knows and understands the music of a hound dog. The piercing sound of a "bay". I can still remember Daisey finding her bay. Her nose closely to the ground, it was like a witching stick searching for water. Her head and body only followed as the nose did the work. At first she started with a few yips. It was like her body was transforming. She really didn't even understand what she was supposed to be doing. Her instincts had taken over and she was submitting to the "call of the wild". The yips became more and more frequent and then she finally hit the trail. A straight line that the ole bunny had run and it was hot! At this point, Daisey completely submitted to her instincts and she allowed them to completely take over. A few more yips and the first bay came. It was almost like the first bay was her clearing her throat. She was almost surprised by herself and then she let loose bay after bay after bay... Letting me know she was hot on the trail. She was doing exactly what she was bred for. She was a hunting dog.

Daisey was your typical puppy. More energy than you know what to do with. We made it through the winter and was now in our first summer together. This was the point that Daisey and I really formed our bond...our two legged, four legged love affair. Anyone that knows me knows I love the outdoors. I am constantly looking for the next adventure. The next camping trip, the next backpacking trip, the next fishing trip. I never felt like I was supposed to be domesticated. I think that is why Daisey and I formed such a bond. I was constantly looking at ways to roll back time, live back in a primitive way... Simplify life and Daisey loved every minute of if. Our first summer was full of fishing, camping and backpacking trips and Daisey was ready to go. She was ready to sit in the passenger seat and put miles between us and civilization. Ready to roll back time and enjoy life.

I will never forget our first backpacking trip. I was nervous about taking her into the wilderness of Colorado. What if I lost her? Would she mind or just be a pain? Would she stick with the group or would she be constantly running off? My wife was encouraging the situation. I think she felt like she had enough on her plate at home. She had a close relationship with her beagle Bailey. Addison was at the age she was getting into everything. Daisey had become almost a full grown dog, but her heart was that of a puppy. She needed to run and play. With me being gone for a long weekend and Liz fending the zoo on her own, Daisey probably wasn't going to get the exercise she needed. Liz was firm... "That dog" is going with you!

I bought Daisey a dog pack and a bell. The dog pack only held a little bit of dog food for her. I could have easily carried the weight in my backpack, but that was not the purpose. The dog pack was to slow her down. Just a bit. I hoped it would keep her focused and directed on the trail. Try to keep her from wandering off the cleared path and into the woods. I knew the smell of the mountains would be tempting. There would be all kinds of things to smell, investigate and chase. The bell was for me to know where she was at. If I heard the jingle of the bell, I knew she was close. If I didn't, then I would have to retrace my steps and find her.

For the most part, our system worked. This was before Colorado became quite so popular and we hiked into places without a lot of people. Daisey was a joy to have, she was fairly directed on what we were supposed to do. Occasionally, I would stop because I didn't hear her bell anymore. It had stopped jingling to let me know she was close by. I would have to retrace my steps to the last bend and look around the corner and there she was. Her nose had not allowed her to continue on. It was absorbed with smelling some rock or stump. Daisey had submitted to her primal instincts. It was what she was bred to do. I would look at her and yell "come on Girl!" She would look up from what she was doing. Surprised that I was yelling at her and reality would set back in. She always looked like she had a smile and she would come to me in a dead sprint. Her bell jingling wildly as she would catch back up. I would pet her on the head and praise her for coming. After all, this is what we came for. Me in the mountains living a simplified life and trying to roll time back 100 years and her taking in all the smells that nature had to offer.

I have to say that our first night in the tent was where Daisey and I had our first serious disagreement. It was a small tent. Light, exactly what someone would want hiking 30 miles in the backcountry. There was not enough room to sit up. You had to crawl in and when you crawled in, you crawled into your sleeping bag too. I am not going to lie.. It is work. So, I am doing this unsightly struggle. Changing into my sleep wear, getting the sleeping bag opened and situated just right to make this difficult transition easier. Daisey is watching and observing. She too is tired from the day. I finally get in, whistle for Daisey to join me. You could tell what was going through her mind. What room is left for me? I planned on her sleeping at my feet. She could cuddle up against my sleeping bag for warmth. It was a good place for a well loved dog. Daisey joined me and I pushed her the best I could in the tight space making her aware where her place was. She got to the end. The tent was so small that her head was pushing up against the top of it. She looked at her space and then looked back at me with those hound eyes. I knew exactly what she was thinking. "This is bullshit Dad..." I kept telling her to lay down girl, lay down! She wasn't having it. Back to the front of the tent she came. I didn't really know what she was up to. Maybe she wanted to be closer to my head and cuddle up against me there... But, Daisey had other plans. She crawled right up to the front of my sleeping bag and started nuzzling her nose inside the sleeping bag. THIS, was not what I had in mind either. Like the tent, the sleeping bag was small too. There is no desire to carry any more extra fabric up the mountain than you had to. There was barely enough space for me to roll over in, let alone to share it with a dog. I pushed her away, which only made her come back with more force and desire. This time when I pushed her away, she growled at me. No kidding, it was the growl of survival. Her domestication of sleeping indoors in a climate controlled home was finally coming through. That sleeping bag was going to be shared and I needed to make room. I laughed, it was a ridiculous situation and ridiculous circumstances. The night mountain air at 8,000 feet was cold and was only going to get colder. In Daisey came. We went on many more backpacking trips and I shared that sleeping bag with her on every one of them.

From this point, our lives continually changed.  We added another two legged creature to the zoo, Alani.  Daisey was as gentle with Alani as she was with her sibling Addison.  The girls could pet her, grab tuffs of fur, ears and Daisey would let her know when she crossed the line with a faint whine.  I tried hard to protect Daisey from the curious hands of an infant, but for anyone that has kids understands the struggles.  Our lives continued.  The usual.  Jobs, vacations, camping trips...the struggle of just trying to keep the family pointed in the right direction.  Quite often, Daisey and I would sneak away.  A short walk so she could chase the bunnies.  A canoe trip down the Dismal River in the Sandhills.  Wherever I went Daisey was near.  She too needed a walk in the wild, the smell of nature, chase a bunny or two.  It was what kept us stable.

The years past and with that came the aging process.  Daisey had been on many great adventures with our family.  She had done probably more than most dogs had.  I could see the age in her eyes.  Her head started to gray.  She slept more and played less.  I think that is the typical life of most dogs.  We kept taking her on most of our family vacations.  She had seen many mountains in Colorado.  She camped on lakes and streams across Nebraska.  She even spent a week on an island in Lake Superior.  Hiked in the deciduous forests of the North land.  I knew age was catching up to her.  I took her to the vet on many occasions complaining to them about her hips.  They were getting weak.  They assured me it was just life catching up with her and they gave me some medication for the arthritis and sent us on our way.  

I could tell Daisey's years were getting limited with us.  The arthritis medication really didn't work.  Last summer we traveled to Northern Minnesota.  A grand and beautiful area with waterfall hikes on every river as the water cascaded down the Iron Range to join the clean, clear and crisp waters of Lake Superior.  Something told me then that this might be Daisey's last adventure.  Her hips weren't allowing her to do many stairs anymore.  She slept more than she was awake now.  She was just a tired dog.  On one of our waterfall hikes, there was a series of staircases.  I think one of the guide books claimed one staircase contained 80 steps.  When we reached the stairs, I picked Daisey up and carried her in a way she was comfortable.  It was work to carry her up and down those steps.  I get many smiles and chuckles from other hikers to watch me carry this old beagle up these stairs.  "That dog has it figured out!" they would say and give me a smile.  I would smile back.  Accept the comments as cordial humor..but Daisey wasn't just any ordinary dog.  She was extraordinary dog.  She had hiked more miles with me than anyone.  Me carrying her up those stairs was my tribute to her for all her dedication over the years.  When we reached the first waterfall, I asked Liz to take a family picture of our girls and I with Daisey.  This might be our last adventure.

Daisey made it through another winter and spring with us.  Another season of change.  She always slept on a dog bed on my side of the bed.  I had to put up a gate up in our bedroom every night.  Her bladder wasn't strong enough to make it through the night anymore.  If she was shut in, she would wake me up.  If she wasn't shut in, she would leave the surprise next to the back door.  Close as she could to where she was supposed to go with no one up to open the door for her. She was a good dog.

Last week I came home from work.  Liz told me Daisey was off all day.  Her digestive system didn't seem to be working properly and she was aimlessly walking around the backyard.  Liz assured me it was a look she had seen before.  It was the look a dog had when it was trying to find a place to lie down and die.  I instantly was annoyed and angered by the comment.  Daisey was going to be fine.  This was just old age and she has gone through phases like this before and always bounced back.  I had the day off from work the next day and Liz made me promise I would take her to the vet.  I said I would.  That night Daisey woke up several times in the night panting.  She was trembling when I reached down from my bed and felt her.  I knew she was not well.

I took Daisey to the vet the next day.  The vet clinic would not let me inside due to COVID-19 restrictions.  I had to sit in the pickup and wait while they examined her.  When I handed the leash to them,  Daisey instantly sat down and resisted.  She looked at me with those hound eyes and gave me her last "This is bullshit Dad" look.  They drug her inside and I waited in the pickup.  

The vet came outside.  "She seems to be having some abdominal pains and there seems to be some sort of blockage.  We need to run some blood tests.  Are you OK with that...it can be kind of expensive."  I nodded yes. I am not going to lie I was a little annoyed.  I think in rural Nebraska some vets have adopted a culture of dogs being dispensible creatures.  Farmers and ranchers coming in with their cow dogs.  A dog is a tool not a pet.  If it can't perform it's task then it is time for a new one.  The vet popped out of the vet clinic again and said her liver enzymes are high, they needed to do an ultrasound.  Would I be willing to pay for that?  Once again, I assured her that at this time money was not an issue.  This wasn't just an ordinary dog, but an extraordinary one.  It was a sister to my daughters and a best friend to me.  We had hiked mountains together.  Shared a pretty gosh darn small sleeping bag together on more than one occasion.  This dog was worth every penny.  The ultrasound was done and the vet came out with the news.  I already knew what she was going to say.  I had been researching it on my phone while I was waiting.  The ultrasound showed a huge mass on Daisey's liver.  She had cancer.  The vet said it was bad.  Her gums were showing signs of jaundice. I asked her if she was in pain.  The vet assured me that she was.

I loaded Daisey back up in the pickup and headed home.  I was beginning to choke up but I knew I needed to be strong for the girls because they were going to be concerned.  Addison met me on the front step.  I could see the concerns in her eyes.  "Is Daisey going to be alright?!"  The flood of emotions finally overcame me.  I broke down and shook my head no.  Instantly both girls joined me with tears.  Daisey had been a part of their life since they can remember.  She was like a sibling.  They grew up together and played together.  Quite often when I couldn't find Daisey next to me on my side of the bed in the morning, I would find her in Addison's bed.  Snuggled up to her.  Addison had covered Daisey with the covers and had her arm over her.  They looked peaceful and content together.  It was a scene that would certainly fill anyone's soul.  I proceeded to tell them that Daisey had cancer and she was very sick.  We sobbed some more as I explained to them that we needed to think about Daisey in all of this.  She was in pain and it wasn't right to let her suffer.

That night Liz and I talked.  We knew what we had to do, but I wasn't going to take her to the vet clinic to do it.  The COVID-19 restrictions wasn't going to allow me inside and I didn't want Daisey's last moments to be in fear.  Liz and I hugged and embraced each other.  Liz is the compassionate animal lover in our relationship.  We feed everything.  Stray cats, birds, you name it.  She kept whispering to me that "It was time Tyler, it was time".  The rest of the story is similar to "Old Yellar", but I can tell you this one was harder.  Old Yellar wanted to take someone's arm off due to his rabid condition.  Daisey still looked at me with her hound eyes with love and compassion.  We loaded up and headed out for our last walk.  I took her to a favorite spot where the bunnies ran wild.  We headed off towards the cedars in the tall grass.  She followed.  Her hips were loosely following her.  It had probably been the cancer that weakened her hips so bad, not the age and arthritis.  I am guessing the liver cancer had spread and had been given her problems all along.  Daisey walked slow.  I let her take her time and smell a few things.  We finally walked to a nice spot and I got down on my knees and gave her one last good loving.  She looked as though she was happy for the walk.  You could tell the pain was there, but she was dealing with it.  I put her favorite treats down and let her eat.  I will save you from the rest of the story, but I assure you her death was quick, more humane and painless than the vet could do.  It was instantaneous.

At that moment I sobbed.  It wasn't a quiet sob, but one where I moaned and my gut began to ache.  I had ended the life of not just an ordinary dog, but an extraordinary one.  I mourned for a dedicated 12 years.  Daisey had become an intricate part of our family.  She was a sibling to my daughters and the best four legged adventure companion I could have ever asked for.  Looking back, I left a piece of myself with her on that day.  I still feel an emptiness in my heart and an ache in my gut.  I have not really talked about us losing Daisey.  I have not told a lot of people and have not posted it on social media.  If your first reaction is to tell me that you are "sorry for your loss" or want to have any sort of sympathy for me, I am going to tell you to save it.  That is not what this story is about.  This story is about a random act of kindness from a stranger that started a love affair with a family from McCook, Nebraska with an extraordinary dog.  That is what this story is about...

Special thanks to Corey, a kind stranger...