Missing an old dog

To the Editor:

I can't recall when I first took notice of the dog. It was one of those black and white Shepards that I always thought of as a cattle dog. I never even knew what its gender was, but it seemed that medium size shaggy mix should be a he.

I had been reassigned to the 140th Regiment at Ft. Leonard Wood, the monthly drive from my home in Fairdealing to the Post would last more than four years. Having recently retired from the police department I had no need to hurry to and from my drills, the scenic route became my norm. The dog was one of those car chasers, that why I took notice of him.

It was on a stretch Hwy. 160 between Alton and West Plains where my K-9 friend preyed upon all west bound traffic. His home was an old, rundown house that set in a curve on the right side of the roadway. The dog would be there waiting, crouched, anticipating. Always launching himself just as the right front fender came abreast of his driveway. Winter or summer, rain or snow, just like the mail carrier he was always there. Over time I became attached to that dog, he became a part of my life.

He was old; saw that at our first encounter. Months became years and each time I passed he was there, crouched flat to the ground, always the hunter ready to run down his game. Then one day he was not at his post and it troubled me to think that he may have died. But on the next trip there he was. I told my wife about the dog. How I looked for him and was disappointed when I missed him.

It was my last year in the Guard when I no longer saw my furry friend. Although I always looked, he was never there again. What happened to him? Did he finally make contact with one of those cars he raced daily or did his master take pity on his failing health and end his pain? Myself, I like to think he just lay down, went to sleep and never woke up.

I still have occasion to drive that stretch of road and as I pass his driveway I always look to see if he just might be there. But he never is.

Tom Brown

Harviell, Mo.