This week I lost a best friend. Yes, he had four legs and was covered in fur, but he was my loyal friend. Freckles showed up in our yard on a cold February Sunday, 2009. My husband, JW, and I came home from Mass and a short time later heard plaintive howling in the front yard, under the cottonwood trees. Evidently, someone had thought our place was the right place to leave a scared puppy. After all, we are "animal people" caring for horses, cattle, dogs and cats a large part of every day. We scooped up the freckled puppy, who happily snuggled on my husband's lap, while I left to get a puppy collar and other necessary items.
We tried finding a home for him--we already had two dogs and didn't want another. Especially after learning that the big puppy was not 4-5 months old as we thought, based on his size, but was instead barely old enough to wean. Our vet guessed him to be a mastiff cross, and said with a smile, "He will be big. Probably over 125 pounds." Yikes! Almost like having a pony in the house!
We named him Freckles, and in a short time he was a beloved member of the family. He was my companion when I traveled to photograph horse shows, often garnering more attention than my photography. "Wow-he's huge! What kind of dog is that?" was a common question. "Shetland", became my standard response.
Freckles was exceptionally devoted to me. No matter what I did-riding my horse, mowing the grass, vacuuming, working on the computer-Freckles was either at my side, or would position himself so that he could watch me at all times. He found a place on the hill in the pasture where he could easily keep an eye on me when I rode our stallion. Whenever I was away, he would wait patiently for me, head propped on the windowsill by the door, eyes fixed on the road.
The brindle dog appointed himself my protector, too. When traveling overnight with me, he would rest between my bed and the hotel room door. I say "rested", because he never slept, just watched the door all night. Had someone tried to enter without permission, Freckles would have exploded in a 140lb. package of fury.
Freckles looked after my husband, too. Once when JW was trimming the hooves of a nervous yearling gelding, the horse pulled back on the lead rope, then leaped forward. Freckles assumed the horse was trying to hurt my husband, and immediately jumped at the gelding's withers, placing himself between my husband and the horse.
Freckles didn't like coyotes. Perhaps he felt they were invaders on his territory. If we slept with the windows open, oftentimes packs of coyotes would canter through our property during the night, yipping and howling. Freckles would bolt upright from his bed, run to the nearest window, point his nose straight up into the air, and howl back at them with all of his might. Once my husband and I got over the drastic awakening from sleep, we would simply listen to his howls, and chuckle at the goofy dog. He was, without a doubt, one of a kind.
When Freckles was about one year old, I took him in for an annual exam and update on vaccinations. The vet commented on an unusual amount of arthritis in his right hip. The left hip was oversized, as it compensated for the weaker side. "This situation will deteriorate if the left hip becomes arthritic, also", our vet warned us.
The huge dog and I continued sharing our days side by side. Freckles was so tall that all I had to do was open my palm toward him when I walked by, and he would tuck his head into my head for a quick caress. Often when we walked a lap around the pasture, our morning ritual, my canine friend would contentedly walk beside me, with my hand resting on his strong shoulders.
Sadly, when Freckles turned three, his "good hip" began to weaken. He had to shift all his weight to his front legs and shoulders in order to sit or stand. Our walks became shorter, and he chose to watch me from the barn when I rode my horse. Within a few months, it was easier for him to keep vigil on my activities from the house, his big head with floppy ears resting on the sill, sad eyes following me.
On May 22, 2012, when Freckles was only about three and a half years of age, we took our last walk together in the pasture. He picked up the scent of a coyote, or possum, or other intruder, and followed it with his awkward gait, back legs serving only to help keep him upright, his powerful front legs and shoulders pulling his body forward. After a brief swim in the pond, he plodded slowly to the house. By afternoon, he couldn't stand at all.
The vet said that she come to our home after her clinic closed at 6pm. By unfortunate chance, one of our colts had gotten a gash on his head that we thought might require stitches-two reasons for veterinary services that evening.
My anguished spouse and I passed the interminable hours until the vet arrived by preparing a grave for our sweet dog under the trees in the yard, where we first found him. I looked up once from my shoveling to see him staring at us through the window, as if he knew what was to come.
About 4:30 in the afternoon we carried Freckles outside to rest in the yard. We took turns sitting beside him in the grass, with tear streaked faces and swollen eyes as we shared precious dwindling moments together, with our dog.
When the white vet truck entered the drive, my husband went to the barn to have her take care of stitching up the colt first, while I waited with Freckles. The horse was upset, and Freckles and I watched the young horse rearing to evade their attempts to help him. I got up to see if I could assist. Freckles wailed at me, and I told him I would be right back. By the time I got to the barn, they had things under control, so I turned to go back to my dog. Amazingly, that devoted, beloved dog had managed to drag himself about thirty feet, trying to go with me, thinking we were in need of his help, struggling to protect us one last time.
Just outside my window, under the ancient cottonwoods, is a mound of freshly turned earth- Freckles' final resting place. I can see it from the pasture, the barn or the house. When I look at it I know, beyond a doubt, that wherever Freckles is now, he is still keeping an eye on me.
