Gone Girl

Gone Girl
Injira in a chicken brooder looking for rats

On Saturday my stupid, lovely, endearing, infuriating, dearly loved dog Injira died suddenly in tragic circumstances.  It appears she attempted to jump a picket fence and ended up getting caught up, breaking her neck, and dying. My poor wife discovered her.

Losing a dog is not new to us.  We have been married for over 30 years and have outlived 8, now 9, dogs.  The difference with this one is the manner of her death.  Most of the other dogs we knew their death was coming, and were able to prepare for it, however briefly in some cases (I'm thinking of you, Daicos and Meg). This time there was no way of preparing and the shock hit us both hard.  So much so I'm only now game to try and put my thoughts into words.

Injira was a rescue - as have been most of our dogs.  A staffy cross, totally insane but lovable all the same.  She tried her damnedest to kill herself multiple times over the 10 or so years we had her.  From running out and getting hit by a car - luckily only grazed and no real injuries, to trying to get kicked to death by an alpaca - multiple times.  She had no respect for boundaries or fences, and for a little dog, had an impressive ability to jump.

On the other side, she would spend most mornings with her head resting on my chest or hip as I read my email before getting up out of bed.  She would love to go out of a night on our rat hunts - we were a team.  She'd wait until I was able to get the rats running and then she'd pounce.  I know it sounds gruesome but we live in the country and the rats are a huge problem.  She would jump up into all sorts of places to hunt out rodents. The photo above was taken where she had jumped into a disused chicken brooder that was precariously balanced on a pile of boxes.  She didn't care.  When it was time to go outside she would ignore anyone and anything in her rush to get going - keeping her eyes on me to see if we were really going outside.  More than once she has jumped off my lap and landed on another dog in her haste.

She was always the last to get out of bed and the first back in.  If you felt like an afternoon nap or were feeling poorly and snuck off to bed, Injira would be there with you.  When I was working she would find the dog bed closest to me and settle down.

She tolerated our other dogs but hated any foreign dog - making walks in the park a nightmare.  For a small dog she had a lot of strength, and would just about pull your arm out of its socket trying to get to another dog.  She was absolutely fearless.  She'd take on anything from a rat to a fox to an Irish Wolfhound.

And then she was gone. And there is an Injira sized hole in our lives - which is surprisingly large for such a small creature.

We'll miss you.

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