Sasquatch

I have had so many emails, cards, and phone calls from WARMfriends, that I am overwhelmed by the kindness you have all shown me concerning the death of Sasquatch. He was my companion; the friend I got mad at and who always forgave me no matter what I said and did. I dreaded this day and was determined to put it off as long as possible, but never dreamed that a minor surgery on an infected gland would be the cause of his death. He had not even had the surgery; was masked down - not injected as that is the most common cause of anesthesia reaction - but, in spite of blood work beforehand to determine if he was able to take it; he crashed in spite of all the precautions.

Sasquatch was the very epitome of WARM; our Icon, our Mascot and everyone that met him loved him. People coming to the festivals where we had the Farm Exhibit, always looked for Sasquatch first. Teenagers would come to ask about him and tell us that they had known him since they were little kids. A crying child would quieten and relax when allowed to lean on or even take a nap on Sasquatch. At the festivals, Sasquatch would not allow anyone near the fence if they had a dog with them. When we did festivals that were two days long, we could leave him in the pen overnight with the animals. He let no one in and no animal could get near. He could have climbed over the four foot fence with ease, but never even tried to as long as he was in charge of "his" animals.

After we retired him from farm duty he took over my house, not allowing anyone in, even his best friends such as the volunteers he knew so well. Even Jean, with whom he stayed whenever I had to leave to take care of my family in England, could not come in the house. He did not hurt them, just barked and would not let them near the door, or, if I brought the person in he would take their arm and hold them.

His favorite spot was the back of the truck that became his throne until he could no longer jump into it unassisted. From that lofty perch he would hold court and observe all the farm happenings. No one could go near him when in the truck while it was hooked up to the trailer taking animals to farm exhibits - that was truly his throne and even from there he was protecting his flock. Later in life he would drape himself across the front steps and observe from there. When he got older and retired, on the hottest days he lay right across the kitchen floor, over the air conditioning vent, totally cutting off the air for the rest of us. He certainly had the alpha position in this little household.

We never had to "housebreak" him, he was just naturally clean in the house. But, he shed - OH did he shed! At first there was dark green carpet in the house and he shed so much that it looked like snow on the floor! Eventually the carpet was pulled out and laminate flooring laid. Even then the a/c filters had to be changed twice weekly! He slobbered and then shook it off where it landed on my walls that had to be rubbed down with sponges. He drank water and dripped it all over the floor and I had to chase him around with a mop and towels! He took his food out of the bowl a piece or two at a time and carried it to a comfortable spot to eat it, spilling crumbs as he went. He barged out the door ahead of me, having never learned that he was supposed to let me out first.

He was hard headed, demanding, protective, had a case of selective hearing all his life and considered the world his oyster. Which indeed it was. We will all miss him; even the new Pyrenees puppy, Samaritan, that I brought home only three weeks before his death, misses him. Samaritan has a huge pair of paws to fill and we will all have to be careful not to compare him to Sasquatch.

So many people and especially children, learned to get over their fear of dogs by spending time with him. He went to nursing homes and old people's retirement homes way back in his younger days. He would stand beside an elderly person's chair and let them lean on his head and tell him the stories of the dogs they once had. He was patient and calm and annoyed me to death when he would wander down the road, with me yelling at him that he needed to come home! He went when he wanted to and came back as he pleased. He lay in the middle of our road forcing the neighbors to drive around him. In his last years though, he stayed close to home, watching and guarding as nature made him, just making sure the world he knew was a peaceful and safe place.

There is a hole in my heart as big as that big dog, but time will heal and we will never forget him. Sasquatch was truly a Gentle Giant. Thank you all for sharing your lives with Sasquatch and me and thank you for being our true WARMfriends all these years. I shall be ever grateful.

— Julie.