Salute to Sunni

I took her hunting with me on a warm, sunny day last November. Girls Day Out!  I had started calling ducks by voice the last couple of years and she didn't know quite how to take that. Everytime I would call at some approaching ducks, she would bark. We continued this into the afternoon until after several of these episodes, I had decided to take her home and get the back-up dog. "Thunder" is our young black male (her nephew), and he was more accustomed to my calling. We got up to leave and along came a mallard hen. I called to her, Sunni barked, but this silly hen was coming in. I fired off a quick shot before the duck changed it's mind and it came down. Sunni saw it fall and the chase was on! The hen tried to take refuge in a bramble, but the old dog was determined as usual. The hen dove under an old stump, but Sunni's persistence paid off. Out she came with the hen in her mouth, her face cut-up and bleeding. I decided that was enough for all of us, and we headed for the car. I had the camera with me, and fortunately I thought to set her down with her prize and get a photo. As it turns out, this is the photo of her last hunt. 

This story has been in my head for a long time, I just didn't know the ending.  We feared that we would eventually have to make that dreaded decision to put her out of her misery. That decision was taken out of our hands by a motorist who was probably driving too fast on our gravel road. Cody found her on his way to work at 5:30 on a chilly Monday morning. I'm sure I don't need to tell you what that day was like. My only consolation was that she apparently didn't suffer. I only wish that the driver would have had the courage to call me after it happened. Sunni was wearing a leather collar with a riveted brass plaque that read, "I AM LOVED, CALL MY MOM".  It's two weeks after the incident now. We are all trying to come to terms with the fact that she is gone. Duck season started a week ago, but the weather has been too warm and there are no ducks around yet to distract us. I've only been to the blind one time. Even the walk through the field to the blind isn't the same without the old gal trotting alongside.  "Thunder" is the main man now, and he does his usual pointing of field mice in-between marking his territory on the path to the blind. We will continue the ritual, as we have done every duck season, but our heart's just aren't in it. Next year will be better.

If you have ever lost such a fine dog as Sunni, you understand what we're going through. Do us a favor the next time you head out for your favorite hunting spot. When you're standing there shivering, waiting in the cold for the familiar sound of that old mallard hen, just as the sun breaks the horizon lean down and give your warm and fuzzy a hug for us. You never know which hug will be your last.

This was for you, my Sunni girl.