Huck

The military has a benefit where if there’s an empty seat on some military transport aircraft, then service members and their families can jump in those seats for free.   Wes and I did it a couple times between commands and managed to get free air fare for a couple European vacations.  The only hitch was that you didn’t know where you were going in Europe until the day of the flight.  Only hours before, really.  So, the trick (at least back then) was having the right train passes to get you around once you landed.  And depending on where the military dropped you, you could have some long train rides.

On one of our trips, Wes and I carried the book Marley and Me for the train rides.  If you’re not familiar, the book is about (as the subtitle suggests) “life and love with the world’s worst dog.”  The dog in the book, Marley, was just like Huck.  Honestly, the book was basically Huck’s bio.  So, we both wanted to read it, but we only had one copy.  So, we took turns reading to each other on the trains.  But you don’t have to read the book very long before you realize where it’s headed.  The family in the book gets more and more attached to the dog and he wasn’t going to live forever.  And as Wes and I got closer and closer to the closing chapters of the book leading to Marley’s ultimate passing, we decided that we wouldn’t be able to read out loud to each other anymore.  We would each have “alone time” with the book knowing that some of those late chapters as Marley aged were going to be tough and we’d be a mess.  Mostly because it reminded us that Huck (who was only 2 at the time) wouldn’t always be with us.  Which brings me to 2 weeks ago.  13 years after those train rides.

I am only now able to write about it, but Huckleberry, the namesake of this blog finally passed on May 15th, 2020.  At the hands of the Amazon truck in our driveway.  He had lost his hearing and some sight, so it wasn’t that surprising, I guess.  It just wasn’t the passing that I had imagined for Huck.  It was sudden and awful.  Not fitting for a dog as remarkable as Huck.  Probably the dog of my lifetime.  I half expected Huck to pass away chasing a squirrel or bundt cake into a fiery volcano, honestly.  I say that because it’s hard to imagine the world getting the best of him in a predictable way.  His whole life has been an exhibition of shock and awe and escaping death.  Every time we thought he may have topped our imaginations in what a dog could conceivably do or get away with, he would raise the bar.

He would seek out brushes with death.  The dog loved chocolate (yep, chocolate), trash, and chasing iguanas or livestock in excess of 500 lbs.  He also loved chewing on avocado trees (also toxic to dogs), chewing on Wesley’s shoes (equally as dangerous), and chewing on the handles of fishing knives.  Lived through all of it.  In Florida when we would leave him at home he would regularly escape the invisible electric fence to cruise the neighborhood streets to find love interests, neighbors’ trash or chase cats.  It took us several months to wise up to this because he was always careful to be back in the yard by the time we got home.  It was only when we noticed that he was wet and had a scar on his nose from a neighborhood cat (a scar he had for the rest of his life) that we wised up to his tricks, but we were at least aware that he was street savy.  At our home here in Nashville he dug a concealed hole into the chicken yard (a la Shawshank Redemption) to get to the grapes (also toxic) and watermelon rinds we dropped in to the chickens.  And the Amazon truck wasn’t even the first car that had ever hit him.  While he was uncannily street smart, in Florida once he launched out of the open passenger side window of my car (I didn’t have air conditioning) in pursuit of Wesley only to land right in front of oncoming traffic.  A Jeep Grand Cherokee left him no worse for wear.  Wesley was honestly more rattled by it than he was, and Huck managed to leverage that traumatic experience into a steak from the table that night.  He was the Dos Equis dog when it came to tempting death.

But this time it was too much for him, and the dog that everyone loved is no longer with us.  I say everyone because I mean everyone.  I didn’t realize what a fixture he was in our yard until so many people asked about him in the last couple weeks.  The mailman, Wes’ vendors, trash man, exterminator,  many friends and neighbors….everyone loved Huck.  And it’s always been that way.  Huck had a following across the country.  Mostly, because he’s lived with almost all of my family across eastern half of the continental US.  During deployments, moves, babies, lease agreements, etc. he lived a significant part of his life with most of the members of Wes and my families.  While no one trusted him, he was loved(ish) by all.

My brother and sister-in-law (Clayton and Katy) get the most credit for homesteading him the longest.  Taking him for our entire 2 year stay in Chicago.  And not enough can be made of their willingness to take him in.  At the point in his life that they took him in, it was comparable to willingly taking in a multi-offense convicted felon who makes no claims of being rehabilitated.  But God bless em, they took him in for us, and Huck loved living with them in Mississippi.  And, sadly all C and Katy got in return was that Huck left their dogs with a few bad habits.  It was basically a story of the supportive brother and sister-in-law who agree to foster that wayward nephew who would ultimately teach their own kids how to smoke and sneak out after curfew.  But they loved Huck, and he loved them.  Until the very end, Huck got a particular pep in his step when we opened his crate after the long drives back to Corinth.

The day of Huck’s passing was a mess.  It was a beautiful Monday afternoon during COVID so we were all out in the yard and were witnesses to it.  When it happened there was screaming and without going into detail, the spot of the event was pretty ugly.  However, in spite of this, our neighbor (who by any account is the world’s greatest neighbor) came running.  She heard the screams and never hesitated.  Literally “ran towards the shooting (screaming)”.  She helped get folks calmed down while Wes and I took care of the scene.  We said a prayer over Huck and I loaded him into the bed of my truck and left.  Word traveled fast and another great friend, came over while I was gone (without my knowing) and finished cleaning up our driveway – again waaaay above and beyond what friends should be expected to do.  And in the days after neighbors delivered flowers, notes, texts, calls, etc.  So, while his passing wasn’t as extraordinary as I had expected, I think the outpouring of friends, family and strangers has been remarkable.  Huck was truly loved, and I like to think his unflinching love of everyone benefited everyone who met him.

Hucks passing was a reminder to me that we all need to cherish every day with our loved ones.  Dogs included.  And we all need to continue to try to be the people our dogs think we are.