It's Been a Rough Week

 I can only pray we do not have another week like this. We lost two good ones this week. Our good friend DeAnne (Farmer Bob's wife) and our dear sweet Dakota. 

I write this post through tear filled eyes in honor of and as a tribute to both. Two good souls who left us too soon. 

We first met DeAnne (link to her obituary) the fall of 2014. We were still in our first year on the road and we spent that fall up hunting. As soon as we met both Bob and DeAnne we hit it off and became good friends. Since them we have gotten together multiple times each year. Mostly up there while I was helping out, but also down here in South Dakota numerous times and even once in Florida. 

Living her life within miles of where she grew up, she and Bob were childhood sweethearts married for 44 years and having four children, two of which still live on and have taken over the operations of the farm. 

She was a tough woman, fighting cancer for over a decade. Things looked very grim back then, but she fought and responded well to the treatments. That fight gave her 13 more years allowing her to see the birth of many more grandchildren.

She had a true love for her grandchildren spending much of her time in school gymnasiums watching them compete in various sports or concerts. She also spent over 25 years driving bus and was able to drive several of her grandchildren to school the last few years.  

An avid golfer, you could find her on the course almost any Thursday the weather would allow it. In the winter and spring, you would find her with her "golf girls" at the local simulator hitting balls against the wall. 

She was very active in her church playing the organ every Sunday in Douglas and was very active at Camp of the Cross where she got to see their son Dylan get married this past July. 

She was also a skilled quilter, and we are honored to have several in our home. 

Where DeAnne and I connected was sports, particularly our love for the Viking, Twins and golf. Her favorite team was the North Dakota Bison. Each fall and spring I would look forward to spending an hour or two each week watching golf or football with her. When I was not up there, we would text each other while watching games or matches almost every week.  

DeAnne was a fighter over a decade ago and she continued to be a fighter these past few months. She did things I do not know if I would have the strength to do like picking out her own headstone and writing her own obituary. 

We were able to spend one more afternoon together last month watching golf. I took this picture of us, it was the last game we watched together, and I sent it to Barb. I told DeAnne I would not post it on the blog as it was not a flattering picture of either of us, but now it seems fitting. 

When I hugged her on August 23rd and left the farm for home, I knew there was a chance it would be our last time together. Now, with a hole in our hearts and a knot in the pit of our stomachs, Sundays will never be the same. Our text thread shall forever remain on my phone, and I will think of her anytime I watch a golf match, or a Vikings or Bison game. 

Dakota 

Never in my life have I met a more troubled or nervous dog. Scared of pretty much everything, shy beyond belief and trusting only of Barb. 

She was 2 years old when we got her, such a beautiful girl, incredible blood lines and so much potential. I do not know what happened those first two years of her life, but it set the stage for what was to be for the next 10 years she lived with us. She was supposed to be my hunting dog, "She's a man's dog", the former owner told us when we picked her up. Her name was actually Sequoia which we really did not care for so we came up with something somewhat similar. This was before we actually bought land in South Dakota, I guess it was meant to be! 

It quickly became obvious she was deathly afraid of men, gun shots, stairs, and definitely confined spaces with no room for escape. She had spent the first two years of her life in a dog kennel, having never been in a vehicle, we had to lift her into the truck when we picked her up. This was back when we were still living fulltime in our 5th wheel, we happened to be at the farm at the time.  Once we got back home, we discovered our next issue; she did not know how to climb stairs! How can a 2-year-old dog not know how to climb stairs? So, we built her a ramp. 

She was wary those first few days, her safe space was in her crate where nothing could attack her from the back or sides. Whenever she got scared or nervous, she ran for her crate. 

Since we were at the farm and I was working long days, that left Barb to walk her, teach her things and tell her everything was going to be okay. As a result, she bonded with Barb big time. Since those first days she was always happiest when with Barb and never let her out of her sight. 

We had Daisy at the time and they quickly became best buds. It make us sad and happy to see these pictures. 

My goal was to get her to become my hunting dog, both ducks and pheasants. The problem was any loud noise and she would run for the hills. Barb started getting her used to loud noises by walking her with a cap gun and snapping it while she walked. No caps, just the sound of the trigger would scare her. She eventually got used to that noise and Barb started using caps. Over the next few months, we would bring pots and pans, banging them together when we walked her, that graduated to .22 rifles and eventually shotguns. The real breakthrough came when we introduced a throwing dummy along with the gunshot noises. The distraction of her focusing on the dummy got her to totally ignore the gunshot noise, add water and she was in her happy place. It had taken almost a year but she was ready for hunting!

Barb went with the first few times we went duck hunting and retrieving came to her pretty naturally. And you could tell she was really happy. 

Over the next 9 years she went hunting 2-3 times a year, then her hips and shoulders started to give out. Limping constantly. We tried just about everything there was to keep her out of pain. Some of it worked, some of didn't. But dogs are resilient. When they are doing something, they love, they fight through the pain and just go and pay for it later.

After we lost Daisy, she was alone until we got Zoey. She did not take to her right away, but now they too are best buds. 

She is the most traveled dog that I know of going into Canada dozens of times. From Alaska to Florida, Arizona to Michigan, California to Mayland. She even went to Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island. She was a great traveler, just happy to be with us (Barb).

My best memories of her were when we were in the marsh. You could tell she was nervous, but excited at the same time. When the ducks started flying and she could retrieve them, she was at her happiest. 

Over the next few years she slowly began to trust strangers and let them pet her, but she was never totally at ease and comfortable with anyone other than Barb, me included. She was a troubled soul, who never really got over what ever happened to her when she was young, but we have comfort in the fact that we gave her the best life would could and brought some joy and happiness to her life. 

She stopped going for walks months ago as she just couldn't do it, but Barb took her for one last walk. She sniffed all the bushes looking for bunnies and was for a few minutes her former self. She returned with a smile on her face and hips shaking. 

Now Dakota and Daisy are together again, no pain, running through fields and swimming in ponds. No doubt the first thing Daisy did when she saw her was climb up on her back and go to sleep.