Seven years ago today I buried by dog, Penni. I still think about her every day and can remember the sick feeling in my gut as I searched for her. I remember the horror of finding her dead with the trap crushing her throat. I was barely able to walk as I carried her lifeless body to the car.
Her body wasn't even cold in the ground before some trappers were spreading the rumor that I had led her to the trap that took her from me.
After her story was printed in the Dispatch, complete strangers sent condolence cards. I don't save cards but I did save those. Thank you. They stand in contrast to those who continue to spread the rumor that I led her to the trap that killed her.
I remember walking to the car where she was waiting when a man walking in my direction told me "she's sure happy to see you." The feeling was mutual. I remember when I got in the car she pushed her way onto my lap with her little tail a blur. Then there was the time when we got separated while swimming. She stood on the dock searching for me and when she spotted me, flew off the dock, and swam to me so we could swim back to the dock together. I remember the time we were 2 miles from the car when the sun set and wolves were howling in front and behind us. We walked back to the car in the dark with her by my side.
I couldn't have wished for a better dog than Penni and always felt lucky to have had her.
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What is it going to take before the Legislature passes sensible trapping regulations? How many more dogs must die?
John Reynolds
Merrifield
