“Not today…

“Not today…
By Bob Zettler
October 23, 2011

…Chunk, let me get the birds,” I said to my hunting buddy of nine years as we prepared for one last hunt. Chunk, my Yellow Lab was dying and I had decided that if he could hold on till today, then it would be his day and we would share it together alone as we had so many times over the past nine years. From central Illinois chasing pheasants and the occasional goose, to North Dakota pursuing waterfowl and upland birds, we had forged a relationship based on love and a shared passion to bring home our quarry.

(A DARN good day in North Dakota with Chunk and JJ on his first trip there.)

I am now 58 and had watched Chunk grow from that little fur-ball fresh out of his mother Missy in 2001 to the one of the best hunting companions and friend a man can ever ask for. So many hunts together where all we had were each other for company and the great outdoors that most of them seem like just yesterday. However, he had only gone afield several times in the last two years as Diabetes had taken its toll on him. Now I am prone to second guessing myself and blaming myself when things go awry but I probably didn’t do all I could have to maintain his stamina and I will have to live with that. Not going to make excuses or ask for forgiveness as it is what it is but I have always tried to do whatever I could to ensure our canine family members are provided for and that their interests are included in our decision making. Why? Because we love them and while not human they are an important part of our family.

So last week as the time drew nearer for Chunk to leave us I asked God for one more opportunity for him and me to get out for a hunt. That I would make it as comfortable for him as possible and that we would spend the time together alone as we had so many times over the years. And when that opportunity arose I was elated but could he do it and was I being selfish taking him out when it might hurt him simply going through the effort? I really had to search my soul for the answers but the night before we could get out, the decision became clear.

For the previous several days he hadn’t eaten much of anything and I was worn out trying to find anything that would interest him. He and I had been to our vet several times that week and by Friday we were preparing for it being his last day. In fact, when I took him in at 5 PM the staff looked up in horror as half of them said they would have to leave if I was there to let Chunk cross over for he has had such an impact on most who have come to know and love him. I can take him to Dr. Boyce’s practice and usually not even put him on a leash as he is so laid back. He will sniff at the cats roaming the halls and offer a lick or two and just wants to be friends with all the other patients and their human companions – a truly loving dog.

Well, after looking over his test results, we decided to increase his insulin instead and see how he did overnight. Saturday rolled around and after I got home from taking a break by hunting the waterfowl opener in central Illinois I tried to get him to eat and was met with the usual reluctance and outright refusal to eat anything. I tried fresh fish (his favorite up until a week ago), cooked fish, raw venison, cooked venison, ground chuck (cooked and raw), chicken breast, roasted chicken, sliced turkey cold cuts, pork roast, and more but not a bite. Now I was really concerned that he would be too weak to go and then I remembered his Dad when he had been weak from being lost for a week in southern Illinois and that's when I drove down to McDonald’s for a plain McDouble and was elated when Chunk ate the whole thing! Drove back and picked up four more and got him to eat another one-and-a-half burgers before he quit which made my decision to go the next morning for me!

Now the real work began as I had to prepare for our outing. To ensure he would be warm enough I packed two extra waterproof camo coats along, a tarp to cover us in case it rained, water jugs for he needs a lot of water, a bowl to drink out of, his camo pet pillow to lay on, his insulin loaded into a needle, some Karo syrup in case his blood sugar dropped too low, a cooler with an ice pack and then my own gear. Just before midnight I got to bed and we were off and down the road at 4:15 AM. First stop was for gas and some coffee for a change as I was beat already. Now when he and I traveled in the past Chunk would try his best to lay as close to me as possible and this morning was no different as he tried to squeeze through the front buckets from the back seat and lay his head and front paws on the console. I cannot figure out he can be comfortable but his being close to me brought us both comfort and a smile to my face.

(Chunk laying in the backseat trying to get beside me as we headed out.)

Still, I was troubled as he would not eat before we left home. Once again I had placed all the cornucopia of food items in front of him only to have him turn away. This concerned me as I knew he had to be weak from not eating. He had lost more than eight pounds in the last three weeks and that was nearly 10% of his prior body weight. So as I was sipping my coffee and driving down the interstate, I thought about the half a coffee cake I had brought with me to eat on the way and offered a taste to Chunk. He ate some and then another bite and before too long he had ate almost two-thirds of it before turning his head. This brought another smile to my face…

It was 100 miles to our spot and we arrived just after 6 AM which allowed us 50 minutes to get ready. The morning before we had hunted out of a blind but the Wood ducks seemed to cut over the edge of the opposite bank for the first 30 minutes or so which would have been a 50+yard shot at a minimum. I had decided to take the boat and using the push-pole to take us over to the other side and hunker down against a fallen tree in the water which should provide a good field of fire on that tree-line. So I loaded up the boat with the aforementioned extra gear and coaxed Chunk on board whereupon I realized that in all our years of hunting waterfowl he had never been in a boat! Fortunately, it wasn’t an issue even though his vision was severely limited due to his cataracts for he followed my orders to stay on board, thus reducing the risk of getting chilled from going overboard.

It was very quiet as I poled us across after putting up the spinning wing decoys on poles back by the blind we disembarked from. And after I wedged us against the downed tree and got situated so he could be comfortable I found myself at peace and smiling for the first time in weeks. The rain had stopped before we arrived and it was around 50 degrees so there was no need for the tarp but I did wrap him in my coats if for nothing more than to ward off any chill. And as we sat there side by side in the darkness that peacefulness continued to envelope us like a warm blanket. I would rub or scratch his head and body and Chunk would nuzzle closer to me and begin to look off into the darkness.

It took me awhile to figure out what he was looking at as I knew that with the cataracts he couldn’t possibly make out the ducks and geese like he use to. I mean back in the day I would many times be laying on the ground or in a blind with him right beside me hunting waterfowl and simply watch him scan the skies as his expressions would tell me where the birds were. This would limit my movements and increase our odds of “Dad” getting a shot or two but I couldn’t depend on this anymore and I had to be the eyes now. Then as the skies began to lighten with the sunrise approaching I saw the spinning wings over near the blind and had to surmise so had Chunk. You got to give the old boy credit!

(Chunk’s reaction to first shots fired on the surrounding marsh.)

Now there is something about how Chunk looks when there are birds in the air as compared to just waiting. I mean his ears perk up and his brow furrows a little squaring off his head and he looks just like his Father at these times but this morning he hadn’t shown that side, that is, until we heard the first shots from the lake behind us and it was game on! I had already heard a flock of what I bet was Teal buzzing the decoys but neither of us had seen them. Then a few minutes later I spotted my first Wood duck but it didn’t fly as they had the morning before and no shot was presented. It seemed like the Wood ducks had decided to change their pattern and were now coming into or over the lake from the middle or from the other end where there was another blind with shooters in it. Que sera, sera.

As I focused on the direction they had come from yesterday, I would get burned by birds behind me or over my other shoulder, that is, until I had a pair of Green Wing teal buzz overhead and I dropped the one and missed on the other speedster. My shots caused Chunk a lot of consternation as he jumped from one end of the boat to the other as this was the limits of his world for the most part for I still did not want him in the water. Granted, it was only a foot deep but I did not want him getting chilled or over-exerting himself for it would hurt his current condition. At least the duck fell dead and it could float on the open water 20 yards away while we continued to hunt. And hunt we did with Dad (me) missing Wood duck after Wood duck as they skimmed the outer edges of where I could and should shoot.

(Chunk reacting to shots fired and misses by me.)

With empties piling up in the water around me and frustration building in both of us – me from missing and Chunk for not being able to retrieve – I heard some geese getting closer. Now I didn’t even bring a goose call and I could hear at least two geese honking excitedly out of the corner of the pond from where the Wood ducks had come from Saturday and just could not believe I could get lucky with a shot at a goose! As Chunk could hear them too, he began to get excited for they sounded like they were on top of us, but since he couldn’t see anything it was driving him to move around the confines of the boat. Finally, I grabbed him close and made sure the coats were over him as the boat had now moved out from under the cover of the downed tree and I wanted to be as covered up as possible given the situation.

And with me struggling to hold him tight, I saw the two Canada geese coming out of the corner tree top high and making a beeline towards the decoys behind us. I mean this pair were on a string and honking all the way when I finally released Chunk, grabbed my shotgun and took aim as they split and began to gain altitude about 40 yards out. My first shot connected with feathers floating to the water below and the bird dropping a leg and altitude so I swung on the second only to see my harvest regain its composure and beat wings away from me towards the other blind. My next two shots didn’t do the job they should have and I grabbed a fourth only to have it drop in to the water instead of the chamber. I was devastated and forgot about Chunk for a second as I had missed the perfect end to our last hunt – a pair of Canada geese. Well, that didn’t stop ole Chunk as he knew that Dad must have dropped one of those birds nearby as when Dad shoots, a bird falls – sometimes – and over the side he went!

I had hoped this wouldn’t happen as the water was full of scum and Chunk wasn’t wearing a collar –ever try to lift an 85-pound dog over the side of a boat – which could also chill him and possibly infect the sores on his legs that he had from battling diabetes. I wasn’t worried about the Jeep as I had towels and blankets; it was just what harm it could cause Chunk I was worried about but I was able to get him back on board and my coats back over him as he gave me that look of “what happened Dad, don’t tell me you missed again?” My smiles of being out with my best hunting buddy had turned to disappointment over my rookie mistake of shooting the bird in the buttocks instead of the head for what should have been an easy shot on the both of them. As I kicked myself, the Chunkster continued to look skyward for waterfowl even though I knew he would be hard-pressed to spot anything with his eyes.

It took awhile but I started to reconcile myself that even though a big part of my memory of this day was tainted due to my missed opportunity (actually, I also missed a couple of Wood ducks but they were marginal shots at best) it was still time well spent with an old friend one last time. We quit just before 9 AM and motored back to the other shore where I unloaded the boat and Chunk wandered off. Now he had gone overboard a second time 20 minutes earlier, but it became quickly apparent that it was to relieve himself, so I wanted to get him dry and warmed up before heading home. However, he kept on walking away from where I parked the Jeep and even though I was now yelling for him to come he did not respond. Fearing he was exhibiting low blood sugar I knew I had to get him back and quickly! I decided to shoot the shotgun into the air and he immediately turned and began to trot towards me as he had always done in the past.

(Chunks final bird that I initially retrieved for him.)

It’s amazing how hard the disease impacts canines but how their instincts and past experiences can return in order to keep them safe. For I knew that if he did not turn around then he was in trouble. I gave him a couple dollops of Karo syrup and made sure he drank some water before heading home. He still appeared weak so I stopped at a Wendy’s to get him a burger and fries. The cashier even gave him a couple of chicken nuggets but Chunk wouldn’t touch anything and this concerned me. I had held off giving him his morning shot and wanted him to eat something before the 100 minute drive home for I did not want to deal with a low sugar issue. As he wouldn’t eat anything, I was happy to get him home safely where he got a bath right away. My God he was skinny now and I could see how weak he had become.

I went through the same routine of trying to get him to eat anything like the night before only to be rebuffed at every attempt. Then I remembered how he liked apples. And even though they provide a source of sugar and he still hadn’t had his morning shot, I felt I had to try. Two apples later he quit and I was relieved somewhat and decided to take a nap with him without getting a morning shot. We both slept off and on all afternoon and I decided to try to get him to eat once again around 6:30 PM. However, I decided to first call our Vet for his counsel as I did not want to reduce his blood sugar again and he said meet him at the office. You got to love Dr. Boyce as just about everyone else would not answer their phone let alone interrupt their weekend but as I said before he comes from the old school…

We met and he ran the blood sugar only to discover it was still too high so he gave him a quick acting shot of insulin that would (hopefully) bring Chunk to a point in an hour where he felt like eating and I could give him his regular dose. Unfortunately, while I gave him a shot nothing seemed to interest him and I even cooked some bacon and fried an egg which he wouldn’t touch –no wonder I am gaining weight from eating some of what he turns down! Yet, while still weak he seemed content from our day together where it was if he had put his problems aside and was that puppy of yesteryear. No, I am not deluding myself that a miracle will take place in our home and Chunk will recover. Nor, do I feel like I have caused him any additional harm by taking him out one last time as I believe with all my heart and soul that what we did together was what we both wanted, needed and deserved. Two best friends spending quality time together and putting aside thoughts of mortality, pain and suffering while they enjoyed each other’s company, the outdoors and letting past memories stir to the forefront to be savored like a fine wine or meal.

And while Chunk will be crossing that bridge all too soon for my taste, we both know that the times we have had together will remain special with me and those who have come to know Chunk until we too cross over. Neither man nor his best canine friend and family member could ever ask for more…

(A photo of Chunk in his favorite spot when he was a puppy with his sister Star at my feet.)

POSTSCRIPT

On Thursday, October 27, 2011 after a very difficult night at home, we drove Chunk to Dr. Boyce’s office where he peacefully passed away and began his final journey across the Rainbow Bridge. My son and I were at his side as he walked into the clinic room still, albeit slowly, wagging his tail as if to let us know it was okay. My puppy will be missed…