It has has taken me 6 months to write this, or anything, except a few words on Facebook. This has left such a deep sorrow in my heart, I really have been at a loss for words to write. I would like to move on now and share the story.
Always in life there is give and take. I think the older you get the more you come to realize this reality in every day life.
If you have read any of my previous blogs you have read about my dogs Dish and Newt, our Cowboys. The rabble-rousers of the north woods. The best of buddy’s, the fiercest of competitors. The best friends to mankind.
We got Newt in the spring of 2015 as a puppy, hoping to retrain Dish. Dish missed out on learning the skills of becoming a real dog due to spending the first few months of his life in the clinical setting of a veternarian hospital fighting for his life. When we adopted him at 4 months he had just been released and was looking for a forever home and we had just lost our last senior adoption to old age. So, we hoped Newt could show Dish the ropes. Running, chasing, digging, tugging, fetching, listening and responding to basic commands, the whole nine yards, all the good stuff. Newt was one of the smartest puppy’s I have ever had. He was a great teacher!
As Newt grew, so did his curiosity. He pushed the boundaries of our compound further and further. With spring came the arrival of strange new animals and Newt would take the opportunity to chase every chance he got. He was perpetual motion at its finest. One evening as I stepped out onto the deck of the small trailer we have in the compound I could just barely see the road through the now budding trees. I heard and then saw a fast moving pickup truck coming down the road. I also took note of the dogs on the ridge above the road. Newt gave a bark and both dogs took off running. The next thing I heard was a yelp…I knew. That truck hit one or both of the dogs. My husband and I both ran to the road to find Dish running crazy circles and Newtie in the road. He was lying on the opposing side of the road where the truck had crossed over and ran him down.
My husband ran to call the vet and get things secure and I tried to comfort Newt and get Dish under control. It looked bad, and it was a 30 minute drive to the vet.
After careful evaluation the skull fracture he received was going to be the deciding factor. Already he was having some issues with his rear legs and the really difficult decision was made to let him go. We said our last goodbyes to our littlest cowboy.