The world lost a great one last week. Sansho, an eight-year-old Karelian bear dog, succumbed to complications caused by a spinal embolism. He鈥檚 survived by his parents, Ty and Rachel Brookhart, his little brother, Wilder, and girlfriend, Bullitt.
I consider Sansho to be the most magnificent animal I鈥檝e ever had the privilege of knowing, although I know many people would strongly disagree. He was the ultimate representation of the dog as predator and defender. Knowing Sansho was knowing trouble. I liked to joke that he was the reincarnation of Jeffrey Dahmer鈥攁 dog who took pleasure in feasting on the flesh of the innocent and who did so regularly. No animals were safe from Sansho鈥檚 thirst for blood. Back in Los Angeles, where I met him, the police had to intervene in his predilection for coyotes. He treed one of the city鈥檚 . A Fish and Game officer nearly shot him with a rifle after Sansho pinned a heard of bighorn sheep on a treacherous cliff.
It wasn鈥檛 just animals whose lives were put at risk by Sansho. There was the time someone tried to steal Ty鈥檚 car while it idled outside an art gallery with the A/C running to keep Sansho cool as he slept in the back seat. That guy will forever regret opening the door to that car. There was the time our friend Matt was on California鈥檚 Lost Coast after Sansho ran off after what we suspect was another mountain lion, forcing the three of us to separate. And there was the time a sheriff鈥檚 deputy and my dog Wiley, resulting in a tense standoff. Sansho was the cause, enabler, and spirit animal of many such misadventures. His presence just made everyone around him feel more primal.
My dog Wiley grew up with Sansho as his mentor. I think they met on his second camping trip, and my puppy saw that he could aspire to great things. Sansho stayed with us when Ty traveled for work, and vice versa. For a couple years, I thought that mentor/mentee dynamic would be the way of things for them, and I was happy with that, but during one sleepover a small squabble escalated into something more. Blood flew as far as the ceiling before I could pull them apart, and ever after, the two got along on a policy of mutual destruction. On camping trips, they鈥檇 draw an invisible line through the middle of the campsite, and on either side, each enjoyed total dominion. I only ever saw that line crossed once, on the eclipse trip, when Sansho threatened Wiley鈥檚 younger brother. Wiley walked over, confronted Sansho, and brought Bowie back to his side of camp with no further violence.
Spending time with Ty and Sansho helped me understand and learn to embrace Wiley鈥檚 primal side. Ty鈥檚 confidence in Sansho鈥檚 ability to make his own decisions and their mutual trust in each other served as a model for my relationship with my mutt as he progressed through adolescence and into adulthood. With their example, I learned to worry less about Wiley and trust his instincts in the outdoors.
One of the reasons Ty and I are friends is that we understand what it鈥檚 like for stuff to go wrong and to end up with your dog being one of the only good things in your life for a while. For Ty, that was the time when I loaned him a motorcycle that was clearly too tall and too heavy, shod with tires that were too slick, resulting in a torn ACL after a crash. He caught a staph infection when he went in for a replacement surgery, something doctors needed six months and six further surgeries to resolve. I remember watching Ty inject antibiotics straight into his own heart through a tube installed in his armpit, while Sansho snuggled in his lap.
It was during that time that Ty got serious with Rachel. They eventually got married on a camping trip, with Sansho serving as best man. That resulted in a human child, Wilder, who against the expectations of everyone who never understood him, Sansho immediately adopted as his own. Sansho would come home from battling coyotes, then lay there indulgently as Wilder crawled all over him and pulled his ears. That kid is going to grow up to be a very unique adult, largely because much of his first two years were spent under the tutelage of Sansho.
Just after Wilder showed up, Ty and Rachel adopted Bullitt, another Karelian, with the idea of breeding the two at some point. Ty talked a lot about creating a legacy for Sansho, and I鈥檝e had my name down for first choice of hypothetical future offspring for years. My plan was to name mine Sonny, short for 鈥淪on of Sansho.鈥
Then Ty called me in late July to say Sansho was paralyzed. He鈥檇 suffered a sudden spinal embolism while playing in the woods. There was no warning鈥攐ne moment, everything was normal, and then the next, Ty heard his dog barking for help. Ty thought Sansho might still recover and assured me the dog wasn鈥檛 in pain. If Sansho could reestablish control of his bowels, then maybe he could live out the rest of his years fat and spoiled by their fireplace.
But that wasn鈥檛 Sansho. A dog who lived hard and fast was never going to be happy taking an early retirement. He regained the ability to go to the bathroom outside faster than anyone expected. He started hopping around on three legs, dragging the other one so hard that it was in constant risk of infection. Ty had it amputated, and it seemed like Sansho might have at least half a life. But again, that wasn鈥檛 Sansho. Without a leg, and without full use of the back half of his body, he wasn鈥檛 ever going to kill again. Sansho didn鈥檛 live in order to be tame.
I hadn鈥檛 heard from Ty in a while鈥攈e lives in Colorado now, and I live in Montana鈥攕o I called him a few days ago to check in. 鈥淲ell,鈥 he started, 鈥淚 have some bad news.鈥 He鈥檇 found Sansho鈥檚 body鈥攈e鈥檇 succumbed to his injuries鈥攁nd buried him immediately.
For a dog that wasn鈥檛 mine, I feel an enormous amount of grief over Sansho鈥檚 death. He profoundly touched my life in the time that I knew him and altered my own relationship with my dogs. I can鈥檛 imagine what Ty is feeling, even through our clumsy attempts as guys to try talking about it. My fianc茅e asked me last night if I think Wiley knows that Sansho is gone. Obviously, the rational part of me knows he doesn鈥檛, but I also think he鈥檒l notice there鈥檚 something missing the next time we all go camping together. One things鈥檚 for certain: He sure has a lot to live up to.