Saturday, December 20, 2014


Crossfire Tumblin Tumbleweed, JH, CD, JH, CGC

Tweed the Skijor Dog

Yesterday, Tweed and Scott took a walk down to the neighbor’s house and back.  Tweed was happy to be out and about with his man.  Not too many yesterdays ago, Tweed took himself for a walk, as he liked to do, causing us to drop everything and go looking for him.  I think he was looking for birds.

Just five years ago, Tweed led Sally’s first litter of puppies through the forest near the Boundary Waters, giving them pointers on how to make life interesting for their humans.  I’m sure he told them how humans found it exciting to watch them run away, with no care in the world, while said humans chased after them shouting incoherent words which may or may not be fit for polite society.  

Tweed the Reader
Fourteen years ago, Tweed taught me the importance of a good recall and the danger of grabbing the cord on a flexi leash without wearing gloves.  Months before that, he was playing on the trampoline, with Alice and Wayne Guthrie’s kids, at Crossfire IRWSs.  

In August of 2000, I drove north from SE Kansas across Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan just to visit with a couple of breeders, one of whom happened to have a puppy available.  I had no serious intention of actually buying the dog—I just wanted to meet the breed face to face.  As many people will attest, though, who couldn’t love Tweed?  I bought the largest crate that would fit on the passenger seat of my little truck and squeezed the four month old Tweed inside.  

Tweed on the NorthFace
Tweed loved everyone and enjoyed every place that he stayed, provided there was a warm bed for him to sleep on.  In the house he liked to be in front of the fireplace.  While camping he preferred to use Scott’s down NorthFace jacket.  

He was the best eater.  Nearly anything we offered him was eaten happily.  He wasn’t very fond of celery, even with peanut butter, but he loved tomatoes and liked to pick his own cherry tomatoes from the plants we bought just for him.  He even picked his own raspberries without being poked by the thorns.  

It is thanks to Tweed and Ciaran, who went before him, that I learned to hunt, took up mushing, and have the beautiful Sally, Dora, and Shady and the handsome Declan and Lichen. 

Yesterday, Tweed and Scott took a walk down the road together.  This morning we accepted that it was time for him to leave by himself.  It was with aching hearts that we drove him to the only place he ever thought to avoid.  

29 March 2000 - 20 December 2014
May the shamrocks fall softly, my friend.  You will be sorely missed.