Trooper Has Gone to Ground

There is not much to say, other than it was his time. He was well-loved and he had a long life.

For the first seven years, he was a working terrier of the hardest-of-the-hard school. In fact, I have never known a tougher dog. In retirement, however, he became the lion of the back yard, watching the antics of the younger Russells with a kind of phlegmatic detachment, as an old man might watch a pickup basketball game by over-caffeinated youth. What do they know? He had seen war!

Trooper was never a lick of trouble. He we obedient, calm, and well-trained. He was the dog that taught me that at a certain level of training, a man or woman reveals their own character -- the need to command, to show off, to require blind obedience for no reason than it is possible. I did not particularly enjoy bringing a dog to this level of training -- it does not fit my personality. I like a more feral beast, both in dogs and within myself.


Trooper upside down in a hole. His best side, provided you were on this side!

I went alone on this run to the vet, but Austin helped me dig the grave in the back yard. He reminded me that when I used to do go-to-ground with Trooper, he would latch on to the critter box with such fierceness that I had to dunk dog and box together in the pond. Drowning Trooper off the box was the only way to make him let go! This is a dog that loved the earth and everything found within it.

Goodbye Old Man. You were loved, and you saw every facet of what life with me has ever had to offer.

When I am old I will not remember the names of any of the people I have ever worked with, but I will always remember you.


Trooper and Mountain drink from the pond.

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