Another cookie, please!

Bull-headed, arrogant and unpredictable…that was our Tonka. 

He was the product of a naughty kennel romance that took place at a dog breeder facility located in Hyde Park, New York; the breeder’s prize Rotty managed an illicit evening out with a black Lab that was being boarded there one week-end.  The result was a litter of five pups, two black and three chocolate mixtures, which the breeder promptly sold to willing buyers.  Our late friend, Danny, snapped up the prize of that litter and named him….Tonka. 

At his best, the dog would come to weigh around 152 pounds but as a dog-toddler, he quickly became too much to manage as his new owner’s battle with Congestive Heart Failure worsened.  In January of 2000, Danny had to be hospitalized and underwent surgery for an ICD (implantable cardioverter defibrillator); after that he was unable to properly care for his pet.

We immediately embarked on the adventure of becoming Tonka’s new family and what a trip it was….

That was eleven years ago when I went to Danny’s house to take, then one year old, Tonka to live in our home, released him from his crate, grabbed his leash and he bounded out of the door, pulling me down the steps with him.  He was excited, as if he was anticipating his new living arrangements with acres of land to explore or just happy to be taking a ride in the car.  As we drove down the road he sat like a prince in the back seat with his big head stuck out the window and his lips flapping in the breeze; pure dog joy was spread on his face.

He quickly became the Great Protector of his new kingdom although our Dalmatian, Missy, had already established herself as Queen and dominant dog member of the house.  Missy became Tonka’s woman; she ate first, he waited; if he didn’t, she would quickly remind him to back off.  Wait he did, sitting impatiently while drooling like a leaky faucet. 
They were…inseparable. 

Our Granddaughter Emma, not quite age one, became Tonka’s top priority and the dog became her floor cushion, step stool and window-gazing buddy.  Once, a family friend stopped by and reached out to pat Emma’s head as she stood near Grandpa; in a flash, Tonka was down the stairs and grabbed the man’s arm.  No skin was broken, it was more of a forceful but gentle reminder by the dog NOT to touch!  As more Grandkids came into the family, Tonka’s mission in keeping them safe increased and he enjoyed every minute of his duties.

                                         

By virtue of his breeding, there certainly was an element of aggressiveness; the Rottweiler side showed itself quite often as Tonka always managed to murder any toy he was given, even those labeled “indestructible”, in about five minutes.  He would turn and give off a snarl in an attempt to intimidate or when he was caught raiding the kitchen garbage can and we were awakened to pitiful crying one night when he managed to get his head stuck in the can’s lid after his midnight snacking adventure.

We much preferred the goofy Labrador side that didn’t give a hoot about much, like playing or getting wet and muddy in our brook…except… when he left big, dirty footprints on the carpet.

                                               

Tonka loved sitting on our front lawn, sometimes for hours, much like a sentinel on his watch.  One day, Airborne Express (now DHL) attempted to deliver a large envelope but when the driver headed up our driveway and his eyes met Tonka’s, said delivery came flying through the air and landed on the grass; the driver quickly sped away. 

On another afternoon a nasty dog, belonging to a former moron of a neighbor, came on our property; there sat the Tonk, stubby nub of a tail wagging, as if to say “Hi, welcome to my yard!”; the mongrel intruder promptly attacked Tonka, ripping his ear in the process.  From that point, Tonka’s personality developed an unwelcome edge; he started mistrusting anyone and anything unfamiliar, sometimes, even those of us closest to him but, never, ever, the children.  He remained loyal and loving, always, where they were concerned.

Tonka never forgot his first Master and when Danny would come to our house, the dog sensed his arrival long before Danny’s truck pulled up our driveway.  We lost our close family friend in 2004 and inherited his Chevy Blazer.  Each time Tonka saw that truck approaching, he would eagerly run to see if Danny was behind its wheel; once the door opened and he didn’t emerge, the dog would keep poking his head into the vehicle in search of a person who would never return. 

Cancer struck well over one year ago; for a short time, medication eased Tonka’s discomfort but the disease, all too quickly, worsened.  Getting the dog to take his pills became a losing battle; disguising them was a lost cause, he would easily spit out the capsules or any other form of treatment.  He started to fail, rapidly.  On his last day on this earth, he looked at me as if to say, “I’ve had enough, it’s time to let me go.” 

We gathered around him and held him, each of us hoping that he knew how hard it was for us to say good-bye that sad night of November 20, 2009.

Tonka is at rest in our animal cemetery along with his best friend Missy and Felix the cat; both died a few short months after Tonka.  Under a big Willow Tree lie three friends, buried with their favorite blankets, toys and… many wonderful memories.