rest easy, lunkhead
He had a hero’s build but he wasn’t a hero. His powerful legs, muscular chest and
rugged good looks were underlined by his strong, silent style. But his mysterious
past traumatized him, and he was skittish even as he barked furiously. We think
he was physically abused. We think he was the runt of his litter and used as a bait
dog for the fighting ring his first owners ran.
He wasn’t particularly bright, but he was smart enough to escape his tormentors.
If he’d taken the wrong turn he might have ended up doomed at the pound. Instead,
he wandered into the barn of our friend Nicholas and thus became Roameo. It took
him a long time to trust Nicholas, then Jude and her dog Robin, then me. He could
startle easily. We couldn’t trust him around children.
He didn’t heed commands particularly well. Once he walked through a screen door
rather than wait for it to be opened. At the end he was deaf and would only respond
to hand signals. Yet he was family and he was thoroughly loved. And Thursday he
drew his last breath as we held him and cried.
Here’s Roameo with Jude just before we moved to the farm.
This is right after we moved in.
He immediately grew comfortable in his new digs.
Right after that, we went to the animal shelter and he picked out Slinkee. In this
shot, he seems to be experiencing buyer’s remorse.
But soon they were great good friends, possibly because she let him win this round.
Slinkee opened Roameo up to the possibility of other friends. Here he is warming
to Ollie. Ollie’s not so sure this can work.
The first time Jude tried to bath Roameo, he freaked out and broke off the faucet
while trying to climb out of the tub. This was much later and much different. It’s
the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him, and will always be my favorite photo of him.
Here’s another shot of that bath. This is one blissed-out puppy.
Rest easy, lunkhead. I’ll think of you every time a load of snow crashes off the roof
and you’re not there to bark and scare it away.
