We discussed this story the evening we met, Fred, nearly 20 years ago. It’s one of your best and I love it! You mentioned that Zach looked so different a year later and that he did not seem to recognize you and Ann. Maybe to him, you two looked different too! And smelled like Birmingham instead of Wytheville! So glad you found each other again.
Oh, Fred! What a tearjerker of a story. I cannot imagine what he went through to find his old home….and to discover you were no longer there must have been devastating for him. But no less so than the phone call you got.
The story of Zach was one that still remains in my mind from reading your writing about your life at Goose Creek. I have a dog who is similarly faithful, and I often wonder what is going on in his mind. He communicates by tale wags and barks, but I would like to know what he is thinking as we go for walks in the woods.
Boy…this brought tears. My husband had a pit, Chance. He loved traveling in the truck, no matter if it was to Wills Ridge or to the barn. When my husband died, Chance grieved right by my side. He let me hide my tears in his fur, and when I began walking him in town, he would stop and look into every truck that passed. It’s been one year that I had to make that very, very hard decision. He was 13, cognitively alert, but developed a quick growing bone cancer. I could not selfishly let my sweet companion suffer needlessly. Another hurting space…part of our aging process.
We discussed this story the evening we met, Fred, nearly 20 years ago. It’s one of your best and I love it! You mentioned that Zach looked so different a year later and that he did not seem to recognize you and Ann. Maybe to him, you two looked different too! And smelled like Birmingham instead of Wytheville! So glad you found each other again.
What a courageous dog. My heart hurts for you and all of us who have had to leave a dog behind, even all these years later.
Oh, Fred! What a tearjerker of a story. I cannot imagine what he went through to find his old home….and to discover you were no longer there must have been devastating for him. But no less so than the phone call you got.
The story of Zach was one that still remains in my mind from reading your writing about your life at Goose Creek. I have a dog who is similarly faithful, and I often wonder what is going on in his mind. He communicates by tale wags and barks, but I would like to know what he is thinking as we go for walks in the woods.
We had a dog make a similar, but shorter, trek to be with us when we left him with a friend. How they find their way home is an astounding miracle!
What a beautiful story!
Remarkable. Such love, and such a skill set!
Boy…this brought tears. My husband had a pit, Chance. He loved traveling in the truck, no matter if it was to Wills Ridge or to the barn. When my husband died, Chance grieved right by my side. He let me hide my tears in his fur, and when I began walking him in town, he would stop and look into every truck that passed. It’s been one year that I had to make that very, very hard decision. He was 13, cognitively alert, but developed a quick growing bone cancer. I could not selfishly let my sweet companion suffer needlessly. Another hurting space…part of our aging process.
I remember Zach, from waaaay back in the day! Thanks for re-telling his tale/tail! Beautiful photo of him in the field. Such memories!