He was my buddy, my true companion, my watch dog, the best rat wrangler ever, chicken protector extraordinaire, child herder.
Parker was “MY” dog. And I miss him.
I have had a post in me for quite some time, but it has been a rough couple of months around here. The clincher was losing my beloved, Parker. His poor old body withered away over the summer and finally he looked at me and I knew. He was dying. Never far from my side, Parker’s best days were spent working right alongside me in the garden, barn, or fields. Perhaps his favorite chore was “mowing” the pasture. Parker would anxiously await fleeing varmints, never missing a beat. When we first came to the farm in 2006, he was overcome by chicken lust. A quick lesson in farm dog ettiquette and he never harmed another chicken, in fact, he assumed the role as chicken protector and all-around best farm dog ever.
Our farm is just not the same without him.
“Not the least hard thing to
they go from us, these quiet friends,
is that they carry away with them so
many years of our lives. Yet, if they
find warmth therein, who would
begrudge them those years that they
have so guarded?
And whatever they take,
be sure they have deserved.”
— John Galsworthy —