Contact

Sandy Valley, Nevada, November 26, 2004

Hartzall died today. We had him through Thanksgiving, and God Almighty knows I would have given my life if Hartzall could have lived in health and happiness. You know what he means to me. I know in my almost 66-years that something must have hurt more than losing him, but my mind has nothing to compare with his loss. As a lad, I lost my best friend, Smokey, and it broke my heart, but Hartzall has been at my side for eight wonderful years. When the end comes it's never enough time. I asked God to heal him, but I thank God for having him as long as I did. I pray that my friend, Joe Felter, will care for Hartzall until I can join them. I have a warrior's religion. I believe in eternal life -- always progressing in glorifying our Father in Heaven -- and it wouldn't be Heaven without Hartzall. I'm absolutely certain and assured that we will be together again -- in perfect form. I don't know what his loss will do to me. I feel very old.

Hartzall was a perfect friend and companion. He protected us. Because of him, I could sleep at night. He was impeccable in loyalty, love, and eagerness to be with us. We did our best to be with him. When a pup, he flew with me in the Rocket and rode with me on the Harley. He lived for our walks and playing ball. Whether at home, on the road, inside or out, Hartzall was always in sight. He paced and anxiously waited anytime Judy or I was absent, even for a moment. He was a diciplined soldier, as good a Ranger, as ever existed. At night he lay across the door, during the day, no matter how absorded we were, Hartzall was where he could assure our safety. Thanks to Chris Byrne, Hartzall perfomed his duty flawlessly. Countless times, Hartzall marched close at my side down the runway, through streets, into stores, amid crowds, around other animals, children, gun fire and every other distraction. In full stride after a rabbit, Hartzall would, upon my calling his name, instantly break-off the chase and return to me showing love and pride beyond any worldly description.

Hartzall didn't like thunder. It was the only time he would crawl up in bed with us. Once he went into the motorhome bathroom where Judy was. It was confining, but Hartzall made room for them both by getting in the tub. Hartzall wouldn't be confined. During the time he was with Chris, he chewed through two heavy-wire cages. More than once, when we were in Tyler, Texas at the Lord's Feast, Hartzall pushed the window opened and came through the screen to join us. This last year it was a new wire screen. When put in the backyard, he picked the gate-latch faster than I could get back in the house. When I wired the gate shut, he chewed through the chain-link! Chris told me that Hartzall was different than any other dog he had trained. Chris was constantly challenged to out-think him. What will we do with the "Hartzall On Guard" sign now that he is gone?

Two years ago exactly, something happened that amazed us and I didn't figure out until today. In it own way, it's like "Babe" the sheep-herding pig. Hartzall, a "complete" German Shephard Male, brought home a young male dog with his same markings but half Hartzall's size. SHMILY (as we named him) had a curled up tail and small folded-over ears -- obviously not a pure-bred like Hartzall von Adler-Blick Gritzhund. The two of them were inseparable from the first moment we saw them together. SHMILY literally became Hartzall's shadow. I figure that Hartzall had gotten into the "dog-farm" across the field from us and planted his seed. He then went back for his son. Never in my life have I observed two dogs totally in love with each other. Any other male dog would have instantly been dispatched, but SHMILY was Hartzall's choice. They were in total love with us and each other. For two year's everything that Hartzall did, SHMILY did. When I would bring Hartzall to heel on my left, SHMILY would heel on my right -- always looking over at his Dad to be sure he was doing it right. I noticed that SHMILY would sometimes be the one to guard the door, while Hartzall snoozed nearby. Whatever Hartzall barked at "little-bit" barked too. If one got left outside, the other whined until they were again together.

The first year, Hartzall was faster than SHMILY, but this year I noticed that Hartzall wasn't as fast. It was beauty-in-motion to see Hartzall laid out horizontal flying across the ground in an all out run. Hartzall began showing difficulty in getting up to go out a final time before bed, but on our walks he maintained his gait to almost match his shadow. SHMILY would look back and make sure Dad was close behind. It was just last week that I saw a decided change. Hartzall was always a gourmet-food dog -- he liked whatever I liked. Seven days ago, he stopped eating all his morning food and I noticed him eating dirt on our walks. Still he kept up and ran after rabbits albeit with less vigor. Four days ago I noticed his stomach starting to swell. His bowl movements weren't complete, faded in color and runny. Twice we found Hartzall laying in the corner as if trying to hide himself.

After our walk this morning, Judy called the vet for an appointment. During my radio show Hartzall and SHMILY laid beside me. We left little-bit on the porch and I put down a blanket in the pick-up bed for Hartzall. Always, he would leap effortlessly into the back. Today, he didn't make it. I bundled him in my arms and laid him on the blanket. The vet took x-rays and gave us the bad news, Hartzall's lungs were filled with cancer. His organs had been displaced within his stomach. The vet was in wonder that Hartzall had made the walk. He said he was breathing with great difficulty. The vet figured that the cancer started in the abdomen about two-years ago and got progressively worse until the lungs were all but filled. The doc said Hartzall ate dirt to try and stablize his organs and reduce the pain. We can only imagine how much Hartzall hurt -- as the good soldier -- without ever a whimper staying the course until that last hart-beat. Hartzall was so remarkable. Not only was duty done until the end, but he selected the best replacement he could; brought him home; insisted that we take SHMILY in as one of our own; train him to do everything exactly as he did; and only then was he satisfied to leave his post.

Judy said goodbye, I couldn't. I was numb, I was lost, my chest was tight, my breath came in gasps. Back home I let SHMILY out and started down the taxi-way for our walk. SHMILY kept running back, standing alert, looking into the night, certain Hartzall would soon appear. Half-way down the runway, I finally bawled like a baby. SHMILY stayed close at my side -- the left-side. I tried to say the Lord's Prayer, but I couldn't be thankful for this day. I asked that God take me also. Finally, I was able to thank God for all the precious moments we had with Hartzall. Suddenly, I was calm, as God's Holy Spirit put me at ease. I see that Hartzall set such a perfect example for me. He stood his watch and walked his post until properly relieved and Called Home by our Father and Master. I promised God, I would do no less. I will remain to harken to every call, until my tour is fully served. Then, I will look forward to joining my Mom and Dad, my Daddy Roy, my conrade Joe, and my faithful friend Hartzall in waiting for the rest of my Forever Family.

Judy loved Hartzall as much as I. Being without him may be hurting her even more than me. Those who love us and know Hartzall's place in our heart will please keep us in your prayers, but not mention him to us. I know it's hard to understand, but it's why soldiers' can never say "goodbye."