Dearest Hank

After my sad pathetic whine about not getting the bike I wanted, it hit me why I was so damn sad. This is from my blog at http://crappyoldbike.blogspot.com

My handsome Hank the Cowdog, I remember it like it was yesterday when you were Hunter, scared and unloved. I wanted you for ages and was afraid someone else would get to you first. So when my beloved Grandma Carol called and said in a tone only someone I loved could get away with, "You better get your *** over here and get this dog!" I unloaded a ton of hay by myself with record speed and hurried the 150 miles across the mountain.

Along the way it started to snow and despite slowing down I hit the part of Blue Box Pass that never sees daylight and lost control of my aging Ford Tempo. The fancy, perfectly fitting jeans I was wearing, and prissy heels were both a curse and blessing. Emily had insisted we go out while I was in town so I was dressed and ready. The kindly boys in the lifted Chevy were rather pleased by the sight of my helpless self in full blown club wear and helped me out, put on my chains, and followed me until it was safe to remove them and took them off.

I didn't meet you until the next morning. I hate to say it, but I was disappointed. You were adorable, no doubt, but shy and timid. You seemed infinitely less interesting in me as I was in you. Either way I was committed and I packed you up and headed home.

Back home you were in shock, and to your credit there were a lot of dogs in that house. I thought you should sleep on the bed, but you were scared to do so. My roommates couldn't figure out why I would want you. I wanted you because I thought you were the finishing piece in my cowgirl lifestyle, but you came to be so much more.

A few months later the I replaced the Tempo with a Dodge Dakota and eagerly taught you to ride in the bed like a good cowdog should. Naturally the next step was to make you my mountain biking buddy. I wasn't sure what you'd do, and what I'd do if it wasn't to follow along. There wasn't much I could do if you decide to run amuck around the Phil's Trail complex. But I had faith in you, you had become such a momma's boy.

Sure enough you were awesome. You proudly frolicked ahead of me and occasionally waited. Central Oregon is always uphill on the way out. On the way back home I'd return the favor and wait for you. I always loved stopping to water you. I'd pull out your water bottle and portable bowl and you'd run around for a while until you were convinced it was break time. Then you would lay down in front of your bowl and drink a bit while glancing around at the scenery. Back on the trail you would herd groups of cyclists you thought were too spread out and it made me smile. I remember the longest ride we went on together, and how you could barely jump in the truck when we got back.

So when I found the Sugar I thought it was time for us to get back out on the trail together. Unfortunately, I still needed to pay off mom for your accident this past summer. I can still see you floundering about with your broken back in the store stock room. Nothing in my life had been so painful to witness. I feared I was going to lose you that day. The fact that you're still with me made it clear we needed to ride together again. So when I finished paying mom off I knew my next steps were clear.

My sadness was palpable when I found out that the Sugar had sold the day before. I tried to hide it from everyone at the shop but you knew the minute I came home. Later that night, despite my best efforts, I broke down crying. It's not a matter of the bike. Anything would do. It's a matter of the time we spent together. I've never had as much fun on the trail as I had with you. And little buddy, we'll be back out there again. I know this place will never be like what we had in Central Oregon, but we'll find our own little slice of paradise.

What a beautiful tribute.

I'm more sure than ever that before long, your perfect bike will come to you AND Hank.

Oh, I'm in tears. Thanks for sharing! I remember when Hank broke his back. He reminds me so much of my beautiful loving Aussies, that I felt truly horrible for you. I could not imagine what you went through. I'm so happy Hank is up for romping with you while you mountain bike. You'll find your bike. There is no doubt in my mind.

Awh, thanks guys. I was a little sniffly when I wrote it. As we speak Hank is crashed out on my bed. He's taken to laying on his back with all four in the air. It's the funniest thing I've ever seen. Unfortunately he also made a very disgusting mess on my sheets when he snuck in a raw bone the roommate gave him. ICK!

I need to teach him to ride with me (on leash of course) so I can take him to work at the store with me. Seems silly to drive the 4 mile round trip but I hate leaving home. My boss at the office does it with his dog, and that dog is nuts! I'd just have to make sure he has his own blinky for the ride home.

Or keep an eye out for a used Burley type trailer -- Hank could ride in style!:D

Hi smurf,

It is very touching and how wonderful. I wish everyone could be like you. You are one special girl (I'm lot older than you so I hope you don't mind me saying "girl") And Hanks got an angel with his mom.

smilingcat

aww, so touching!

I had wished so badly to have a little trailer or something to pull my dog around in. But he would have freaked right out and jumped, probably hurting himself. I'd love to get another dog with whom I can do active things with.