Anyone who has had dogs for any appreciable length of time fully understands the impact that they can have on you. Throughout my life, I’ve had several dogs that were wonderful companions and friends. I’ve had dogs that were a joy to have for however long they were on this earth, which was never long enough, for any of them, no matter how many years I had with them.

And of course, there’s always that one dog. The one dog that grabs your heart in a way you can’t explain. There isn’t even any logic to it; they all greet you at the door wagging, they’re all happy to see you, they all love playing, they’re all generally happy, fun little beings to be around that lift your spirit and make you laugh when you need it.

But that one dog, for some reason, just does it better than any of the others. It touches your soul and lets you know “You’re my person, and I’m your dog.”

As you go through life with this heart dog of yours, you grow closer and closer. This dog truly is your best friend. You can’t imagine life without him by your side.

But you know it’s inevitable. You know the day will come when you have to say goodbye, and any time you think about it – you just can’t comprehend how you’re going to be able to handle it. Saying goodbye to your best friend, somehow managing to go to sleep that night, and waking up the next morning of the first day of the rest of your life without that special dog.

Dog’s lives are too short. Their only fault, really. – Agnes Sligh Turnbull

But life does go on. You never forget that dog, of course. Actually, the shitty part for quite some time is that, when you think of him, you can’t help but tear up.

And I’m sorry, but that SUCKS

You had so many amazing times with that dog, but now that they’re gone, all you can do when you think of them is CRY? It’s bullshit is what it is.

A good friend of mine calls those waves. You could be doing fine, then one thought creeps into your head and your dog comes to mind. Perhaps it’s just a memory of a particularly fun time together, but more likely it’s one of the simple, everyday things you took for granted – like how they had a particular way of looking at you that always made you laugh, how they often liked sleeping in the weirdest damn positions, or how they’d get zoomies in the living room and fly all over the place FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REASON.

Or my favorite, when they’d come over and jump on the couch, curl up next to you, (sometimes on you), and go to sleep – as if there wasn’t a place in the world that they’d rather be.

And no matter how much you gotta pee – the last thing you want to do is disturb them. 🙂 Because that moment is as special to you as it is to them.

Anyone that’s known me for more than 5 minutes and has ever heard me talk about my dogs – y’all know exactly who I’m talking about.

I experienced waves about him for years afterward. It was hard thinking about him without missing him so much my soul hurt. My eyes are tearing up as I write this, for that matter. It took a long time before I got to the point that I could look back fondly and appreciate the times we had together, rather than lament that they were over.

Present day – I’m much better, but the waves still come on occasion.

Which brings me to the subject line of this post – I knew I’d get there eventually. 😉

There are plenty of things in life that remind you of those that have passed. I have a hard time beginning and ending a conversation about dogs where some moment with Shooter doesn’t come up. I have moments in the field with my dogs that bring me back to similar moments I had with him, or with Buffy or Jane, or any of the other truly special dogs I’ve competed with and hunted over.

It’s not often that I look into any of those dogs’ eyes and see Shooter staring back at me.

And THAT, my friends, is the echo from the past I’m talking about.

So, Shooter was bred a few times. Not a lot, but enough to get a Registry of Merit from the Vizsla Club of America. There are bits and pieces of him still floating around out there, but not a lot of them. Doesn’t really matter to me – there will only ever be one of him.

One of those bits and pieces still floating around is this one nice little girl named Leia. I knew she was nice and I could definitely see her daddy in her, and she’s got some elements that, as perfect as he was, I wish he had had. Anyway, there have been a few times around her that have just hit me in an unexpectedly strong manner. I didn’t understand why, and then a few days ago, it occurred to me – it was her eyes.

Shooter, besides being perfect in every way, had eyes that would just touch you. Calm, cool, collected – except maybe when he was being goofy, and even then they were filled with pure joy. When we worked together in the field, a lot of times I’d look back at him as I was trying to locate the bird, and the look on his face was always calm and confident. I’d look at him, he’d look back at me, and it’d be like “Yeah. We got this.” I’ve had some great dogs, but me and him – that was the best team I’ve ever been a part of.

So back to Leia. I was at a trial a few months ago and she was in the retrieving callbacks. Not having a dog in the stake, I volunteered to help gun for it, so I was at the line waiting as she came up to start her retrieve. And I swear to God, as she was standing there waiting to get the job done, I saw Shooter’s eyes staring back at me. It was an echo of my heart dog. I had to turn away and collect myself a little bit – it’s never good for a gunner’s accuracy if there are tears in his eyes. I did get it together, Leia did great – I actually hit the bird – and she went on to complete her championship that day.

I guess it didn’t quite register what it was until I saw her again a couple of weeks ago at a different trial. No big deal, just laying in her crate … but she had those eyes. And I heard that echo. And I had to turn away again.

There is a time after each dog passes that it’s hard to think about them. This time can be fairly short or can take years. But once you move past that, being able to warmly remember the life you shared with them – it’s priceless. Even when a past memory wells up and takes you by surprise and makes you tear up, and maybe even cry a little bit – you welcome it, because those tears enable you to remember and enjoy those memories all over.

Those echos from the past. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Until next time…