Dingo (the Trail Dog)
2011 – 2013

On Tuesday morning, September 17, 2013 at approximately 7AM,  my faithful companion, Dingo died doing what she loved to do best: running mountain bike trails.

Dingo the Trail Dog 2011-2013

Dingo the Trail Dog 2011-2013

As many of you know, one section of the Smith Lake mountain bike trail runs fairly close to Honeycutt Road, a 5-lane major artery into Fort Bragg.  For some unknown reason, perhaps chasing a bird or other animal, she apparently darted out of the woods and into 50-mph rush hour traffic.

The wife of a friend actually saw her as she was hit by a car, having recognized her picture from my post on Facebook.  Thankfully, she was killed instantly.  Many of us, and especially I will miss her terribly.

Since I rescued her in August of last year, she has been by my side most of every day.  If I got up to go to the bathroom, she would follow me and lay down somewhere near the door.  When I went to bed, she jumped up and laid by me for a few minutes and then got down and slept at the foot of the bed.  She loved playing with people and other animals and was everyone’s instant friend.  There will never be another Dingo.

– Final Update –

Dingo two weeks ago after running Smith Lake trail and stopping for a swim.

Dingo two weeks ago after running Smith Lake trail and stopping for a swim.

Today, September 20, 2013, I did one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I buried Dingo. After posting on Facebook and receiving the news she’d been hit by a car I needed to go see if I could find any trace of my friend.

 

I walked alongside the road in the light rain and sure enough, I finally found her lifeless body, upside down at the bottom of a small draw, just off the road and not four feet from the mountain bike trail. It was clear that she was lying where she had landed after being struck.

 

I feel certain that her last thought was of running and playing and it is fitting that her final resting place was just off the trail she loved to run.

 

Many of you know that Dingo was always wide open — like a hundred miles an hour all the time. Maybe somehow she knew she had to cram a full life into two short years. We’ll all miss you Dingo.