I laid my old dog to rest this morning. Gordo would’ve approved of the shady spot my son and I chose. It was hot and the ground hard. I dug the grave with the help of my tears, I owe him the honor of my labor. We carefully selected rocks to mark the spot and planted a single flower near his head.
We spent twelve good years together. Despite my ignorance of training techniques, Gordo was a decent and hard working cow dog. He enjoyed working, as Border Collies do, but lacked the characteristic creep and eye. His cow working technique relied largely on sheer intimidation.
In addition to being a fine working dog, Gordo was an unfailingly loyal companion. He walked me through grief and depression with enthusiasm and cheerfulness. Gordo rarely failed to bring a smile to someone’s face. He embodied pure joy every time it snowed. He relished cold weather and stealing hats off the heads of sledders.
I will miss him. His love of walks and sledding, his skipping step and enthusiastic “talking” every time I mounted my horse in the morning, and the comfort of his knowing silence. He was a good friend and a good dog. May we all age with such grace, live with such loyalty, and strive to be cheerful. Rest in peace, Gordo. You are loved.