A Letter to a Ghost (Tracer part2)

A few years after the closing of the store I found myself living just outside of Campbellford Ontario and working in a Hazardous waste transfer facility.

I think Tracer missed the store as much as I did but all good things must come to an end as the saying goes.

One day as my beloved friend Tracer walked by me in my living room I noticed that he was urinating as he walked which is something he hadn't done since he was a pup.

I quickly took him outside and my heart sank as I saw the blood mixed with his urine on the snow outside.
At that very moment I knew our time together was about to end.

Everything that could be done for him was done, and our last night together was spent with him sleeping beside me on the couch before heading upstairs to bed.
Tracer stopped halfway up the stairs and turned his head to make sure I was with him just as he always did.
I helped him up onto the bed and drifted off to sleep with him beside me as we had done thousands of times before.

The next morning he saw me off to work with a little tail wagging as was his way but I had the most horrible feeling inside as I left..

Below is a letter, a letter I wrote for the dearest friend I ever knew.
Until now, not many have seen it but here is what I wrote a few days later.
I can't explain my need to write it but it seemed like the thing to do.

You came into my life in August of 1988 and at that time I did not realize what a major part of my life you would become.

I will always remember the flow of friends and customers at the store parading through the living room to see you, a puppy of a breed none of them have ever seen before and you impressed everyone even then.

As you grew you quickly learned find and retrieve game birds and your obedience training came naturally, much without the need of collar or leash.

As you grow older still you took it upon yourself to protect the store and to bring in the morning papers for which you demanded the fee of an occasional freezie. A small price to pay indeed.

While in the field your eagerness to please a knew no bounds and if you injured yourself you never complained, wishing only to continue the hunt.

Although you were four times the size of your little friend Tuffy you would always let him drink first, eat first, or do whatever he wanted first demonstrating your good nature and big heart without exception.

At times after a hard day I rejected you and yet you never rejected me.
I am sorry for that and wish there were some way to repay your kindness.

I will always remember you're excited face at the door when I returned from work, your clear grey eyed stare that would pierce my very soul, and your feverish dance at the sight of a shotgun or hunting vest.

When that day that I knew must come finally arrived, I was not ready nor do I think I could have ever been and yet on that last day we spent together you still managed a small wag of your tail as if to comfort me.

I regret not being with you when you left this world but as was your way I'm sure you would have forgiven me.

Tracer I will always love you and miss you.
Sleep well my friend you've earned it.

I wrote that some 14 years ago and I can tell you that the scars still have not fully healed nor do I think they ever will.
Tracer was just that special.

I almost gave up bird hunting after his loss partly because I could not go back to our old hunting spots without him and partly because the sight of a grown man with a bushy beard and tattoos standing in the forest with a shotgun and crying like a fool might be somewhat unnerving to fellow hunters.

But then came Tracer's Great Nephew Northern Lights Jaeger.
Turn, turn, turn.