As a kid, I had a number of dogs that were important to me, and played a significant part in my growing up. Sam, the border collie, protected me in my early years. He accompanied me at three to four years old when I thought I was going to run away. When we moved to town, he jumped our fence no matter how high it was. He couldn't stand to live in town (I know the feeling), and had to be placed with a family that could give him the freedom he needed. Bandit was a blue-tick mutt. He was great. He accompanied me on my miles-long horse rides and every dog on the way backed down from him, despite his small stature. Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that after a couple of years, most of the young dogs we encountered looked a lot like him. But despite all of this, no dog can match the dedication and connection I had with Soren Kierkegaard Hockanson.
Soren was a Blue Merle Great Dane. He was the most intelligent dog I've ever encountered. He was the ultimate dog. I came upon him quite by accident. My mom was in the hospital to have a tumor removed from her pituitary gland, and while waiting in her room, I was going through the paper. I had wanted a dog, and knew that I had a tendency for giant breeds. This lady had decided to breed her Great Dane. After making sure that mom was ok, and cool with me leaving, I went to see the lady with the Great Danes. I was in love. The first Dane I wanted was a Boston (color). Fortunately, it walked up to me and urinated on the floor. I turned to the next dog. It was grey with black spots. It was happy, and seemed to be in more control of its bladder.
I bought him for the astronomical price of $200. (You don't want to know what I paid for Tolkien.) I'd never bought a dog before, and thought I must be insane. At less than three months old, he fit comfortable on the floor of the S10 pickup I had at the time. He grew out of that rather quickly. My life with Soren was very involved, and I hope to give Soren stories from time to time. Mainly, because Annie became very attached to him, and I hope some day she reads these ramblings and sees what I saw...
Well, Soren lived for eleven long and wonderful years. That’s a long time for a Dane, for those who don’t know. He and I survived two failed marriages, and a lot of wonderful times. I used to skip school (sorry, Dr. Drewniak) to go fishing and swimming with Soren. Annie thought he was her best friend (he was her dog). It’s hard having a pet that has a short life span, but he gave more than anyone can imagine. When I was having emotional times, bowing at my bed in an effort to reach someone who was supposed to be watching out for me, here comes Soren nuzzling under my arm, and slobbering on my face. He helped me get through so much, I can’t explain it. Granted, the screen is getting strangely blurry here, but I’ll end it by saying that his last breath was drawn trying to make me happy. I ensure you that I will have stories to share to make you chuckle from Soren.
I wonder if I’ll ever have a connection like that with another individual…
Rembering a great friend