When the walk is over...

We said goodbye to an old friend Saturday night - a friend I've known since my first days in Montana almost 9 years ago. He was brave, humble, had a big black tail and a lovable smile. He will be missed by the many who loved him.

My dog and Jake were arch enemies. Memorial day in 2005 camping on Ruby River Reservoir, they had their first encounter that ended in an ugly scene, and they didn't spend much time together afterward. They could smell each other from a mile away. We once walked them together successfully, but soon after they remembered how they felt about each other. We took them to a local trainer, but even the "guru" couldn't keep them separate. My pooch was nearly always the aggressor, and could've learned a thing or two from Jake.

Jake was there when Brady and I first picked up fly rods, and he's been on many fishing adventures. He would try to eat your trout and would run off, and he was the epitome of a good dog.

Here's to ya, buddy. We'll catch up on the flip side.