Saying Goodbye

We lost a good friend back in January. Her name was Hoka, the smartest German shepherd in the universe. It happened quickly–a stroke the vet thought. She would’ve been eleven this month, and we’d kept company with her for nine years and one month.

Hoka 6/18/2014-1/14/25

We’ve had other dogs, but none as human as Hoka.

She had two speeds–fast and faster. She liked to chase cars going by on our dirt road, from inside our fence line of, of course. Our neighbor once clocked her at 32mph. She had a human vocabulary of around 20 words . . . and she could tell time. No, really! She knew when it was 7:00AM and time to go outside and check for any neighbor’s cats hunting birds in her yard. And she knew when it was bedtime, and would remind us it was time.

She wasn’t just our dog, either. She belonged to my Dad and all of the residents at his retirement home. And to our neighbors . . . and the workers in the orchards where we walked with her every day.

There’s not a square inch of our house and five acres that her paws did not touch. She took care of us as much as we took care of her. Every part of our daily schedule–now five months without her–included her.

First, we learned to navigate life with Hoka; now we must learn to steer ourselves without her.

It’s going to be a long journey before we can let her lie without tears, but I know she’s getting acquainted with our three other dogs we’ve buried.

Keep running, sweet Hoka! We’ll come play with you some day . . .

Your comments and pet memories are most welcome.