Derrill, thank you so much for the poem. I showed it to my wife, and she got teary eye, but were tears of happiness. I thank you for thinking of us, and sending it to us. Yesterday my wife had a better day, and we were actually laughing of all the things Savannah did when she was a puppy, and as an adult.
We have two other pooches to keep us busy. A 90 lbs female Belgium Shephard named Lucky, and a black Shi-Tzu named Oreo. Both are rescue, and have turned out to be excellent family members. The reason my wife was so heartbroken was because Savannah was the first birthday gift I gave her, so there were a lot of emotions tied in one bundle that was Savannah.
Give you guys a little hunting trip about Savannah. Our first time together in South Dakota, she was around 16 months old. I had shot several birds, but the other more seasoned dogs would get the birds before she did. Then in the afternoon, I shot a bird, and she took off like a bandit. It was just her and the bird. The pheasant was not dead, and took off running. Now the chase was on, and Savannah stayed on his tail until all I saw was a bunch of down go in the air and Savannah triumphantly running to me with a pheasant in her mouth and a very proud look on her face. She had figure out why we were there, and the little light bulb and the instinct to hunt was turned on. From that day on, she was hair on fire chasing pheasants through the fields of South Dakota. She was two different dogs, at home a very mellow I don't care if the world ends type of lab, and on the field, one on full afterburner chasing birds. She had a great nose, and the softest mouth I had seen on a lab. I'll take a picture of the two roosters I have mounted, that she retrieve for me. She couldn't see me pick up a shotgun, because she would be glued on me and ready to hunt.
Thanks for reading!
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