
No one can remember exactly when we got him, but it was at least 13 or 14 years ago. One day my dad happened to stop by the pound in Pocatello and saw him in one of the cages. He noticed him right away because he looked like a dog he had growing up named Bruno. He was also one of the quieter dogs -- just sitting there looking at him, not jumping around and being noisy. Those two factors decided that the collie/St. Bernard mix would come home to us.
He was a great dog. He never got to live in the house, but he never ran away or chased cars. Even when we would go on walks or bike rides, he didn't need a leash. When my brothers would move pipe in the field around the house, Poky was always around to keep them company. One story I'll always remember is the time my dad was moving pipe and thought a skunk or something was following him through the tall grain. He kept hearing a rustling all around him, but couldn't see anything. After a few minutes of worrying about getting sprayed, Poky started jumping up and down so he could see where my dad was. He'd been trying to find him, but couldn't see over the grain and ended up giving my dad quite a scare.
A few years ago Poky developed a tumor on his side. We took him to the vet and had it removed. It wasn't cancerous, but it came back. It didn't seem to bother him -- he still ate, moved normally, and was his happy self. As time went on, the tumor got bigger and bigger. He still seemed fine and he was getting to be an old dog, so we just left it alone. We weren't sure he would survive this winter, but Poky surprised us by holding out until Randy had come home from his mission.
It will be weird the next time I go back to Idaho to not have him around my parents house. My dad and Jared buried him in the field he spent so much time moving pipe in, so in a way he still will be there.
Good bye Poky. Thanks for being such a good dog. We love you.























