life begins and then it ends

My dog was hit by a car today, and he didn't make it. My dad called me and told me that. I cried on the phone with him for a little while. I'm more worried about my dad than I am about me. While Storm was my dog, he was Dad's buddy. When Dad gets up in the morning there will be no Storm to have a morning conversation with. No more affectionate references to "The Fat Boy", "The Big Khumba" or "Chief Barks-A-Lot". The house will be strangely quiet. That's when it will sink in that he's really gone.

God is merciful. When Storm was much younger(he was getting close to 10 years old), he was hit and had a broken pelvis. He was already starting to feel the effects of that, and I have no doubt that the arthritis would have gotten much worse the older he got. He was such a good dog, and an amazing protector.

Storm once saved my mom's life when she was being chased by an angry cow. The cow had my mom on the ground and was rolling her over when Storm took the cow head on and gave mom a chance to reach safety.

He also took a hoof in the jaw for my sister when she was moving cattle one time. He had a broken jaw and had to wear a cone (which he detested) for the longest time.

I remember bringing him home as a puppy. He slept in my room for the first several nights we had him. I showed him in 4-H one time. We won our division in obedience training, and we won an award for first-year dog training.

A better dog we could not have asked for. This is my ode to Red Storm Rising. I don't know if dogs go to heaven or not, but I do know that he went out with flair...just like he lived life.