The first time I laid eyes on her was forty years ago. Her owner said she was the runt, then six weeks old or so.
I shod the owner’s horses and he paid me with the pup. I named her Mia, not sure why, then watched my pup grow up.
I’d never owned a dog like her, the Irish setter kind. Right off, we were the best of friends, to me, the perfect kind.
Her energy was endless. Seemed she’d run and never stop. But she was needing of some manners, then she’d be cream of the crop.
I bought a book called, “Teach Your Dog.” But I guess I didn’t try. ‘Cuz when it came to teaching her, we didn’t see eye to eye.
Mia shot that look at me, the one we all have seen: “We’re really trying this again?” You know just what I mean.
So I tossed the book to file 13 and hoped it’d find the fire. I swear the book made me to feel like a dummy out for hire.
One day I took her hunting hoping she might have some fun. But two shots from my loud 12ga sent my best friend on the run.
It took me two full days to get my Irish setter back. So when it came to hunting, guess she didn’t have the knack.
How could I be angry when she ran away to hide. Aside from shooting she was always right there by my side.
At night when I’d be driving home, she’d be waiting at the gate. I could see the red a mile away. I knew how I did rate.
She would jump right in the pickup bed and ride to the home place. We’d finish all the nighttime chores then to the house we’d race.
One night while I was driving in I didn’t see her jump. I heard my setter give a yelp, then felt an awful bump.
Well, sure enough my dog was gone. It happened all too fast. My grandma taught me years ago, good things don’t always last.
Crying wouldn’t bring her back, but my kids sure howled some tears. And quietly I shed a few. She’d been my friend for years.
So I made a headstone for my dog, and on that rock was penned, “You weren’t much good at hunting but you sure were my best friend.
– Bryce Angell
– Bryce Angell
