Tyler Texas: A Christmas Story Based on a True Story

Wichita Falls. Early 1980's. Long, lonesome highway. This story still burns a hole in my heart. Man, that hurts. Tears run unimpeded down my face. Quivering lips. Foxridge's Island Ike. I thought I had that dog under control. Rack, sob, heave. Only had him 4 months. Now he's dead. What got into him? I am motoring down Interstate 20 in late 1981, crying like a baby. Trying to make it home to Mississippi by Christmas. Done come 5,000 miles already. Like I ain't had enough trouble, now I done lost my best dog, my smartest dog.

Ike the Chesapeake Bay Retriever had a lot of snap and pizzaz in his presentation. He was all business, strutting, high tail, high head. Sleek and fast. He didn't even look like the rest of my Chesapeake Bay Retrievers. Not as muscular, but plenty of fine physical development. Tough as a doorknob. Took a line like he had cognitive thinking, ability to rationalize, went straight out and just as fast as he could go. Couldn't please me enough. Good nose. Got the bird, came back straight line, fast as he could go. Digging in with front and rear. Circle around behind me, sit, deliver to hand when I asked for it. No wounded birds flaring an incoming flight, that duck was under his control. Ike was even started on hand signals already. In comparison, my dogs would loaf around, take a leak, skirt the edge ice. So what if he couldn't whup a goose, he was death on a duck. What does that lady know that I don't know? How come her dog is so snazzy? And him a re-ject.