Deke Turns 100

 

Approaching the Great Husky

We crossed the great sand dunes like intrepid explorers. The bitter December wind howled across the mountains, blowing sand in our eyes, so we hunched forward, climbing ever further into the strange desert. We strained our eyes into the fading light, seeing only more dunes as far as we could see. Atop a knife-edge ridge, we settled down to gaze at the dying sun. It was Christmas Eve. 

Our guide perched on the sands, golden fur gleaming, wind rippling the waves of sand and fluff as he gazed balefully at us. Sam approached like a pilgrim finally finding a teacher. He sat in silence, majestically surveying the great desert. Our footsteps slowly blew away the way we had come. As Sam sat beside the stonelike husky, he slowly turned his head and she buried her face in his fur. It was heartwarming and stoic at the same time. I snapped a dozen pictures with my old camera. 

We were traipsing through the Great Sand Dunes of southern Colorado. The Sangre de Cristo Mountains glimmered in the distance. The geologic anomaly was stunning. All around us, the usual Rocky Mountain scenery paused and the great Sahara appeared. Hundreds of feet tall, the dunes were incredible. We clambered up and down, alternating between slogging ascends and gleefully sliding back down. The whole time, the wind was relentless.

Our fearless leader in the desert

Deke, my brilliant and contrarian blonde husky, paced us every step of the way. He was clearly enjoying himself and also clearly baffled as to why we kept going up to come back down. He kept stopping on ridgetops, perching like a great wolf overseeing his kingdom. His tail blowing sideways in the gale, he would howl and bark into the nothingness then continue his journey. There was none of the usual fare to smell or claim, just sand for miles, but that didn’t stop him from conquering the strange land. It was the most photogenic I have ever seen the mercurial dog. 

Deke is an enigma. He turns 100 this week in dog years, assuming that a dog year is 7 years per each human year. He isn’t particularly friendly or loyal. He is well trained but not terribly obedient. He runs away any chance he gets and kills small critters or neighbor’s pets. He smells like the dead animals he gnaws on constantly. These days, he is deaf and going blind, but his personality is the same as it has ever been. He is usually grouchy and contrarian. 

But despite his mischief and his age, Deke is magnificent. He has a thick silky blonde coat of fur that cleans like Teflon. He has mismatched blue and gold eyes that can look into your soul and command your attention. He is gorgeous and he knows it. He prances around like he is the lord of the dogs and often he is. He is an alpha male and gets his way by simply intimidating fellow dogs. Humans and dogs defer to Deke for decision making repeatedly. 

Deke is less of a pet and more of a copilot. He is one of those rare dogs that doesn’t really need humans; he just tolerates them. He goes where he wants to go, and it just happens to be where I want to go. He is brilliant at learning patterns and manipulating humans. He has the ability to speak in human phrasing, expressing his mood in staccato bursts of growls and barks. He learns patterns quickly and is a master of direction, knowing where you are going even when he has never been there before. 

He has traveled with me to forty four states and nine Canadian provinces, depositing his endless spores of white fur everywhere from Florida to Alaska, California to Newfoundland. He has endured every major life threatening hurdle a dog can endure from tumors to infections to bear and moose attacks to endless boredom and his spirit remains unbroken. Now, in the twilight of his life, he misbehaves knowingly, knowing better yet knowing that I can really do nothing to stop him. He sets his own life pattern and tolerates us as long as we give him what he wants.

I have a book’s worth of stories about the adventures and exploits of Deke. But of all the times that I have been in awe of this dog, it was the Great Sand Dunes where he transcended being a pet and became a wild spirit. He set his own course through the dunes, in treacherous unknown terrain and triumphed. He has had thousands of pictures taken of him over the course of the last 14 years, but never has he looked so majestic as that Christmas Eve in Colorado. Sam and I were newly together and he was not sure how to handle having someone else come between him and me, but on top of a sand mountain that day, he declared his intentions. The picture of him and Sam together will hang on my wall for the rest of my life. I don’t know how much longer Deke has in the world; I know he is ancient in dog years, but I am glad he has tagged along with me through everything.

Captured for a Snuggle