We have an old boat. It was recovered years ago from the side of the road where someone had (so generously) left it near our property. My husband and I saw just “an old abandoned boat”, while our kids saw a pirate ship just needing some attention before she hit the high seas. Since I’m writing this blog we all know who won that debate.
So a short haul down the road, a lot of pressure washing, and this old gal has over the years been the center of many adventures. She’s caught salmon on the Pacific, fought off pirates near the Caribbean, and yachted through the Panama Canal. However with all these adventures under her belt, she had yet to actually get in any real water.
With all the rain this winter, the call to get her out on the sea was too much. Our kids saw that flooded bottom ground below the farm and it had to happen. So with waders on and a little prayer we launched that old pirate ship in the ditch below the farm. And to all our amazement the dang thing actually floated! Not one leak!
It was a great afternoon. Captain Hoot could have stayed all day with first mate Auggie, deck hand Dad, a few fair maidens (Millie & her cousin Addison) and boat dog Booker aboard.
The original idea was to finish out her first sail with a sleep out under the stars, but with temps still near freezing at night even an imagination as big as these farm kids have wasn’t enough to convince mom that was ok. Maybe next year…..
This flooded ditch below the farm holds a lot of adventurous memories for me as a kid and now they are all starting over with the next generation.
I love their imagination, I love how they make things happen and never think “well we can’t do that.” And I’m very certain that someday they will sleep out under the stars in their pirate ship; another adventure of many down the road that our farm kids get to dream up.
The life of a farm dog is an open prairie made for adventures, it’s chasing coyotes and nutria, it’s protecting your family and the farm. It rarely involves fences he can’t climb through or creeks he can’t swim across. 
It’s pick-up bed rides with the wind on his face. It’s about that look and excitement when your farmer throws down their tailgate and yells, “Load up Boy”. It’s about chasing field mice all harvest and laying in that hot summer sun. Being a farm dog is a no boundary, leash free kind of freedom that…unfortunately, just can’t last forever.
It means waiting for help when that tailgate goes down, because your days of jumping have turned into getting lifted up to go for an occasional ride. It’s saying goodbye to the miles and hello to just a simple walk to the shop and back. And when even that got too tough, it’s trusting your farmer to know when it’s time to say goodbye.
I got Yukon when he was two years old, I was lucky to get to spend 12 of his 14 years as his farmer. For a long time he took care of me, for a long time I took care of him and for the whole time we were inseparable. 
A few days ago, he looked at me as he struggled to get up off his pillow. And this time, even for me, he just couldn’t do it. All those fields, all those runs, many days off on adventures I’d never even know about; and here he was, needing my mercy, needing me to let him go.
The loss of a dog is heartbreaking, they are a part of your family, of your hearts and home. And Yukon or Kon as he was often called, was no different. 
He spent many of his days letting the kids jump all over him and he in turn loved them and protected them. I like to think that he held on just long enough to meet Miss Millie, to pass on a little love to her as she completed our family.
I’ll probably get a little and sometimes a lot sad, but in the end, just like when you were sitting right there with your floppy ears and sweet big eyes, you’ll make me smile and probably laugh. Because really what is a farm dog’s legacy worth if you can’t sit and have a nice good laugh about the best dog this farmer ever had.
As Hoot said when we laid you to rest, “Well, now Yukon can go and run with 
NuttyGrass 