The Drift - The Time We Get
Author: Sandra Johnson
The worried look on my husband’s face when I got home earlier this fall, after a long work trip is one I can’t forget. Luke hadn’t eaten his supper. This is a dog who spins in circles, barks, and drools twice a day, every day, for his food. Many strange objects have passed through that dog’s digestive system. Dog toys, a plastic grocery store bag, whole robins, grass, so much grass. You know the drill. So, what had he gotten into this time?
There are dogs, and then there are bird dogs. We have bird dogs. In early 2019, we decided to get a third bird dog. Plenty of hunters have two dogs, some have three or more. But figuring out how to fit three kennels in the back of a pickup, make sure all three get their fair share of hunting, and finding enough room on the couch for everyone can be a challenge. After all, for eight months of the year, they are just another family member who eats for free.
We brought Luke home on July 11, 2019, three days after our 10-year-old dog died unexpectedly. She’d been slowing down and breathing a little harder in the days leading up to her death, but that tough old bird never let on something was that wrong. And thus despite the preparation, we remained a two-dog family, with Luke and our six-year-old, Luna. Luke was exactly what we needed to help us heal from losing a dog so suddenly.
Luke was our first male dog. He’s been hunting birds since he was 5 months old. Maybe you recognize him from NDO magazine or our video programs. Many Game and Fish employees help the communications team by providing real-life hunting and fishing photos and videos for our various media products. Luke’s a handsome dog, a real top model, though I might be a little biased.
On July 8, 2023, we added that third bird dog, Pepper. And you know what? Three really isn’t that much more work than two. Except when it’s muddy and you have twelve paws to clean.
Fast-forward to Sept. 9, 2026. I can’t forget the look on the veterinarian’s face when she gave us the news about Luke. There were no options. But what we should do is take him hunting. The cancer isn’t in his brain. Let him run. Let him hunt. This is what he was born to do. Let him spend his final days doing what he loves.
We lost Luke 20 days later. But in the days leading up to his death, that boy put on one helluva show out on the prairie. Showstopper points. Solid retrieves. And that big old grin on his face. It was almost as if he knew.
It isn’t fair. When a dog’s life ends too soon, it feels like that time was stolen from us. We were robbed of the time we should have had together, and he certainly deserved more seasons in the field.
But dogs don’t measure their lives in years. They live in the moment.
And Luke had a lifetime’s worth of them.
It was hard to go hunting after he was gone. The prairie felt a little emptier without him. But we still have two good bird dogs who need to get out and do what they were born to do. This may be almost 14-year-old Luna’s last hunting season, too.
Luke taught us something I hope I never forget: No matter what you’re going through, go do what you love. Make the most of the time you have. Keep hunting for tomorrow.
Good boy, Luke.