#9: I had a dog named Indiana

This is not about aviation or a 1932 mountaineering expedition. This is about my dog Indiana, who was all the things a good dog can be. We said goodbye to him over the weekend and I am so desperately sad; thirteen and a half years was not enough.

Indy was born in September 2010 and came to us that December. He was mostly Leonberger; his parents were both described as “yard dogs” by the person who dropped him and his littermates off with a Spokane rescue. The mother was shot and killed shortly before the puppies were given away. I fell in love the moment I saw his picture and my husband went and got him as soon as we could. Here’s Indy’s first Christmas….

Indy loved to run; when we took him into the woods he would fly around the corners on the trails with an elegance that was all the more surprising when you considered his size. He averaged 95# all of his adult life and yet he moved like a sprinter, like he had wings.

First we had Indy and Hondo and then, after we lost Hondo to bone cancer far too young, we rescued Tesla who is still with us. Indy got along with both of them, with all of us. Leonbergers are pack animals and we were all Indy’s pack. He always wanted to be in the back on a walk, not the front; he wanted to be watch over everyone. Even when he was outside, he was always looking in at what everyone else was doing.

Here’s one of the coolest things about Indy - he could watch television. I have owned five dogs in my adult life and he is the only one who could do this - and he always could. His favorite show was Frasier and if we had to leave the dogs alone for hours, we would leave it on. I’m not lying - I’ve got photos of indy watching television!

If you love dogs, you know what he meant to us. You know he was loyal and true, he was brave and powerful, he was smart and lovable. When I tell you that my heart is broken, you understand. You know; we all know.

I think that Indy stayed with us so very long - he beat bloat five years ago, he beat cancer two years ago, the surgeries for both were extreme - because we were his pack and he never left pack behind. I realized last week that he would keep fighting age and illness to stay with us. We had to tell him it was okay to go. We had to decide.

But none of that matters. The knowledge that logically, intellectually, it was time to say goodbye, doesn’t make this any better. Indy was my dog and I loved him but more importantly, he was my friend and he loved me. My friend died on Saturday and I miss him. I miss him and I wish he could have lived forever.

An aviation post next time - I’m working on several topics. I just need a little time to be sad; I need to learn what it means to be living without Indiana.