Hunter

Since I was a little kid, our family has had more pets than I can keep track of. Chicken, quail, guinnea pig, duck, fish, hermit crabs, pig, and of course, dogs and cats. We had so many dogs, probably 15? Who knows, all I remember is that we had tons and I loved every single one. There was always one big problem.....they never seemed to love me the same way. Haha. Okay, actually they just loved to run away. It didn't matter how much attention I tried to give them, they always ran away. One time, our beagle (I should say our second beagle), somehow escaped into the front yard. I tried to get her to come back, but she refused. I went into the house, got a piece of fried chicken out of the fridge, and waved it in front of me. She STILL wouldn't come. Can you believe that? It's true. Here I am, calling this dog, holding a piece of chicken, and she still refused to come to me. That just sums up how many of our dogs were. Eventually, they would run away, (or be taken away by the dog police for attacking our neighbors turkeys...)

Then one day, my dad showed up with Hunter. A beautiful yellow lab, about 5 years old. He saved him from the pound. I think I was 14 or 15 years old.

When he first got to our house, my dad had changed his name to Jake. When my mom got home she said, "He's been hunter all his life, that's what he knows, so that's what we should call him"
Hunter was unlike any dog I had ever owned. For starters, my mom actually let him in the house. He loved being in the house. He used to sleep under the computer desk, or sleep in his favorite spot- on the floor by the couch....right next to my dad. Hunter was amazing. He knew every trick and command. Most of our dogs could sit or speak, but Hunter could do so much more. I always felt like he could understand what I was saying. I could just look at him, and he knew what I wanted him to do. He was well behaved, he was gentle....never growled at anyone. (Except B.J....ask my dad)

And that's how Hunter got the name "The Wonder Dog". He was perfect.
We got Hunter around the time when I was the only child left in the house. Hunter was my friend....and a best friend at that. I never call my pets by their real name. Usually I called hunter one of these names: Hunty, Hunty grunt, blontee, dantee, ashanti, shanti....the list goes on and on. Haha. On the weekends, I would sleep out in the front room where he was allowed to be. He would lay down on the floor next to me and I would be on the couch. It never failed though....after laying there for about 10 minutes, he would sit up and just stare at me. I would look at him and just say, "okaaaaay". Instantly, he would crawl up onto the couch and lay on me. He didn't realize what a big dog he was. He would sprawl out, all 75 pounds of him, completely across my body. He would just lay there, content, so happy to be there. I would be barely breathing at this point, but still, I didn't mind.

I always wanted a dog to call mine. Just mine, a dog that listened only to me, and did everything with me. I thought Hunter would be that dog for me. And in many ways, he was. Hunter always listened to me and wanted to be with me. But if my dad was in the room, it was another story. Hunter was and will always be my dads dog. He loved my dad so much. That dog would do anything to be with him. If my dad was doing anything around the house, there was hunter. If he went hunting, there was hunter. If he was watching t.v., there was hunter. When I was younger I used to think of it as a competition. I would try to get hunter to like me more, but it never worked. Hunter knew that it was my dad who saved him, and he was gonna stick with him for the rest of his life....and he has. He is as loyal as they come. Now, I don't mind being runner up. Hunter has been a great friend to my dad....they are like two peas in a pod.


Hunter was the first dog we owned that I felt truly loved us back. My dad could actually do work in the front yard, and Hunter would just lay on the front porch and watch. At times, he would escape from the back yard, but It was just to wander around. We would drive around until we found him, open the car door and say "get it". He would happily jump in. Except......he never listened to my sister. To this day, he listens to everyone except for her. It's kind of funny.

I was sad when I had to leave for college and for my 2 year mission for my church, because I was afraid Hunter wouldn't remember me. But he did. Even after moving all the way across the country, he was still excited to see me when I got home.
So here we are today. A long time since Hunter, our Wonder dog came into our lives and literally became a part of our family. He's 15 years old....pretty old for a pure bred lab of his size. He's blind, deaf, and has tumors all over his body. In just the last month, Hunter's health has decreased considerably. We were actually surprised at how fast he has weakened. We've decided that it's time to have him put down. He's too strong willed to go in his sleep, much too strong to give up on his family. It's one of those things that you always think about, but never really believe the day will come. After all, I've never had a pet long enough to even have to deal with this. Mom, dad, and I went to the vet tonight. Even as he sat there for those last few moments in pain, he was content....because he was with the people he loved.

I wanted to write this so that I would never forget my friend. Although I know, that I don't need a little blog post to remember him. He will always be a part of our family. He will always be my friend. He will always be my wonder dog, and I know I'll see him again.....someday.