My feelings when I look at these pictures are nothing new but that doesn’t diminish at all my despair at these poor dogs. At least there are a few photographs of people loving them but they are intelligent, caring animals and in an ideal world we wouldn’t have strays.
I just ran out of time yesterday to publish a proper blog post so I am sharing this photograph with you. It shows Mount Sexton in the distance, just to the right of the fir tree, and two rainbows, it being a rainy afternoon. The camera is facing North-East and the picture was taken at the north end of our rear deck.
These are such powerful photographs and the many photographers who contributed them to Unsplash are to be heartily congratulated, especially as they are provided without charge.
Thank you to all the photographers. I am certain that I am not the only one saying ‘thank you’ even if most of you are thinking a ‘thank you’ rather than verbalising it. I am unsure at this stage as to whether I will post further photographs from Unsplash; any feedback?
More dogs for the first day of the month of October.
Again, these pictures are taken from Unsplash. Frankly I do not know what I would do if the many photographers had not put their photos for free on this website. I have found a relatively easy way of crediting each photographer.
Back in mid-May I received an email from Jess. It said:
Paul, as of about two years ago I’ve been writing my life story. I wanted my kids and grandkids to know what it was like when I was a kid. Some of my best memories are times spent with my dogs. This is one story I wrote about Koko’s last hunt.
It was a lovely story and I have no idea why I have left it so long before publishing it. But here it is!
ooOOoo
Koko
By Jesse Anderson
When I was just a young boy, I was gifted a puppy that was a Chesapeake/setter cross. Because of his chocolate color, we called him Koko. Koko was my constant companion thru everything I did as a kid. When I was old enough to hunt, he was my bird dog, and a good one he was.
My family was a very poor one. Our house was about 750 square feet, and there were eight of us living in it. There were four boys in the same bed, and there was still room for Koko.
It just got too crowded in that little house, so in my junior year I went to the old barn and took over one of the calf sheds, turning it into my very own bedroom. It would be my very first one! I made a bunk, covered it with straw, swept the dirt floor and put an old rug on it, then hung some of my paintings on the walls. It was far from perfect, but Koko and I thought it was incredible. He slept, with me, inside my sleeping bag on the straw. No one was allowed inside unless they were invited.
With six kids and a disabled father, it took a lot to keep things going. We all worked in the fields, even at a very young age. When hunting seasons started, it was my que to get out there and put as much game in the freezer as I could. My mother had worked for a meat packing company, and when they bought new equipment, they gave us the old freezer. I tried my best to keep it full.
Koko and I were tied at the hip. When we hunted, even with others, he was always aware to my presence. Anytime a bird was shot, it was always brought back to me. I could control him with nothing more than a hand signal. Some of the best times I had, as a kid, were out in the field with that dog. He was my very best friend.
As he grew older his hips started going bad. One morning I got my shotgun out and headed for the car. He could hardly get up, whimpering as he tried. I decided to leave him behind, thinking it would be the best for him. I was very wrong.
For the entire day he sat in front of the window, waiting for my return. When I got home, I walked into the house with my days harvest, only to be met at the door by Koko. He stood very still, staring me right in the eyes, for a long time. Then he just turned and walked away. He said everything he wanted to say. I just felt terrible. I had let my best friend down. After that, if I knew his hips were bad that day, and some were worse than others, I would sneak out the back bedroom window before I left.
I went into the Army shortly after I graduated from High School. After basic, I came home, bringing one of the recruits from Guam with me. He got to see this wonderful dog in action. Again, I had to leave, this time being stationed in Alabama. A year later the Army thought I should be in Germany. I, once again, came home on leave. By this time, old Koko was completely deaf, couldn’t smell a skunk, and his eyes were failing. It really hurts me to see my dogs get old. That’s the only real fault they have.
I decided that I had to take him out for the last big hunt. I owed him that much after all the years we had together. I had to pick him up and put him in the car, but he knew we were going hunting, and the look on his face was incredible! Don’t tell me that a dog can’t smile. That smile said it all!
When we got into the field, he knew he couldn’t hear, and after every ten or twelve steps, he would look at me to see if he was doing what I wanted. A big rooster pheasant flew up and I shot it. Koko didn’t even hear the shot. When he looked up to get directions, I guided him right to the bird. You have never seen a happier dog in your life. He laid that bird at my feet and looked me right in the eye and had the hugest smile on his face. I knelt down to him and cried such happy tears, hugging him the entire time. I was so happy that I was able to bring such joy into that old man’s life.
That would be the last time I would see him. Germany kept me for another year and a half, and his age caught up to him. I was notified thru the mail that he had died. The vision that has stuck with me my entire life, and now I’m 76, is the look on that old dog’s face the day we had his last hunt. It could not have been planned better. JESS
ooOOoo
What a beautiful account of Koko.
Jesse is just a couple of years younger than me so I resonate with him. I still miss Pharaoh, my German-Shepherd, and he died in 2017. Dogs are incredible companions.
Jesse has his own website that is here. I share with you a little bit about Jesse from his website.
Born in Nampa, Idaho, Jesse Anderson has been doing artwork most of his life. There wasn’t a time, as a youngster, that he wasn’t sitting and drawing whatever his fancy was at the moment. He was given his first set of oil paints at age 11. In High School he was encouraged by his art teacher, Dorothy Long, to pursue art as far as he could go and they stayed in touch for the next 40 years. After high school, Jess went directly into the U.S. Army. Upon learning of his art abilities, Uncle Sam saw fit to put him in charge of the Battalion Training-Aids Department (aka, the art department). Following his discharge in 1968, he enrolled in Boise State College in hopes of getting a degree in Commercial Art. The College would only allow ONE art class the first year, and it was beginning drawing. This was not what he was looking for as the next step in his art career so he dropped out. Before leaving college, he met Cheryl, his wife of over 50 years. With Cheryl working as a bookkeeper to keep the bills paid, he enrolled in the “Advertising Art School” in Portland, Oregon where he graduated top of his class. He started his own commercial art business and his dream of making a living as a full time artist was in motion.
