Goodby Che!

Che was my dog and constant companion for nearly 12 years. He was mostly black lab, though he had just enough spaniel in his background to be a pointer. He was also a gun dog to the point that we had to worry about him walking right out in front of the target when practicing with rifles.

But Che never became a hunting dog since I'm a suburb dweller and have done no hunting since I left the farm to go to college. We got him as a puppy from a coworker who had more puppies than homes for them. He was selected on the basis of being the friendliest (and chunkiest) of his litter.

We named him Azabache, after a dog who is a family legend because he gave his life to save my father-in-law from a poisonous snake. Then we shortened it to Che because you just can't go around calling a dog by a 3-syllable name for 12 years.

Che was the stubbornest, most headstrong animal I've ever been around. He was very strong physically, with a broad chest and muscular build - weighing about 100 pounds in his prime. We had to get a harness instead of a collar for walking him since he would pull against the leash to the point he might have strangled himself.

He was also the most loving and lovable pet any of us had ever known. He was so attached to his human pack that as a puppy he would punish us for leaving him alone by destroying things. Eventually we figured out that leaving a radio on would trick him into thinking he was not alone. His favorite station was always WPR News and Classical Music. Even in the last couple years, when his arthritis made it painful for him to get around, he always greeted each member of the pack with puppy-like enthusiasm upon our return.

Che was an ideal watch dog. He took his job of protecting family and property very seriously, patrolling the house at night and barking with a deep base tone bark at any perceived threat. I'm sure anyone hearing his bark, or seeing his apparently angry look through a window was appropriately intimidated. Little did they know that the only real danger they were in was that of being licked and slobbered to death by this big friendly guy!

Eventually, Che's arthritis got so bad that we had to have him put down. But not without a fight. I kept him going, probably an extra year, by giving him aspirin and glucosamine every day (The same treatment I take!). So, I miss you Che. We were best buddies and I don't ever expect to find another like you.