Dog Dependent

When I was a teen, I spent my summers helping my grandfather irrigate his hay fields in Lehi, Utah. Grandpa’s constant companion was a collie named Kit. Whether we were changing head gates at 3:00 am or bucking hay in the heat of the afternoon, Kit was always there. She was both company and security.

As Sheri and I were preparing to move to Island Park, we purchased a six-week-old Malamute puppy. Aspen has become an integral part of our family. She is our bear alert when we go on hikes or pick huckleberries. She is the official greeter when neighbors arrive to open their summer cabins. Her company helps us feel a little less isolated during the months when mountain life is quiet.

This past week events confirmed that my feelings were shared by other caldera residents. First, Connie Funkhauser’s German shepherd Max came up missing. Connie’s dogs are her constant companions. I know of at least one instance when Max protected her from a grizzly that was encountered while Connie was running on a local trail. When Sheri and I visited with Connie at the cook-off that she hosted, Max had come home but the intensity in her voice conveyed the fear she had experienced at the thought of losing him.

The second event occurred when our good friends Sam and Reed Nielson lost their dog Josie to illness. Reed came by to pick up a radial saw that I had borrowed. He explained with a tear in his eye, that he wanted to construct a casket for their dog before burying her in the mountain soil. When I spoke to Samantha, her voice broke in sadness as she related the loss of her companion. We are sorry for your loss.

Emotionally investing one’s self in dogs or pets of any variety, brings with it joy but also the potential of heartache. Living in Yellowstone Country has brought me to the point of bonding with our animals and understanding those who have done the same.