Dogs are more than pets. By establishing a special bond with them, they eventually become the best fishing buddies an angler can ask for. During the latter part of her eight and a half years with the family, my precious Nika, a flat coated retriever and black lab mix, was exactly that. She was my fishing buddy…… one whom my family and I wish was still here with us if it wasn’t for her tragic August 25th passing.
Fishing buddies come and go. In recent years, I’ve learned that some are better than others. What separated Nika from a human was that she never left my side like most have done at some point during the friendship. As a clumsy but cute five week old pup to an eight and a half year old wise adult, she was always there to love and accompany me in return.
Nika and I formed a special bond that began on the first day we got her. On Christmas morning 2003, as I was a junior in high school without many friends, my dad and I drove to Northwest Indiana where we brought home our newest family member. I remember the car ride home as if it was yesterday. I sat in the back seat with my new pup who was sitting on my stomach. She observantly looked through the window at the landscape, and deeply into my eyes. The connection had been made. This $50 purchase immediately became my special friend.
When Nika joined our family, I wasn’t as serious with fishing as I am today. I barely traveled up north or anywhere to go fishing. As everyone can relate, fate works in interesting ways. This is life’s greatest unknown mystery. Eight years ago, I never imagined myself being deeply involved with fishing, nor writing articles in blogs and magazines. Likewise, I never imagined that Nika would fish with me with the frequency as we did during these last few years. Who knew that any of this would happen? I sure didn’t.
In the last few years, Nika took an interest in fishing with me and accompanying me while traveling. Like me, her favorite place in the world was our remote and quiet family property nestled in the outlying woods of Minocqua, Wisconsin. Nika wasn’t much for the domesticated house, nor for the suburbia of Chicago. Strangely, she wasn’t meant for the woods as a hunting dog either, but she lived for the north.
Rather than being a typical uninteresting house dog, her ideal day was to avoid the leash, roam our yard, wander the woods, lay in our gravel driveway, or go on road trips to the lakes and join me in the boat. Every time my family or I left Chicago for our piece of heaven, she never wanted to be left behind. She was anxious to go, always making sure she was the first one in the car at all times. She truly exhibited more appreciation and thankfulness than most of my other fishing friends will ever give me in return.
As a fishing companion, Nika was a loyal, willing participant of the wild adventures I frequently pursued. Unlike most folks whom I’ve fished with over the years, she never annoyed me with complaints or questions, or grew tired from the fatigue of a long 16 hour day. Besides loud thunderstorms, she was never affected by inclement weather or adverse conditions. She was the ideal fishing partner who made me understand that the intense serious competitive style of fishing I prefer is better suited as an individual sport. This made me love the aspect of fishing with nobody else in my boat but my dog as I was allowed to fish for myself only.
Although Nika wasn’t much for swimming, she loved the water. She especially loved the fast boat rides across the lake. Likewise, she enjoyed sniffing out the boat landings and barking at other anglers and their rigs. I will never understand her lack of excitement when fish were brought into the boat, but I will always remember her happiness and curiosity when I’d grow animated over the sight of a big musky torpedoing the boatside. During our time together, those events were more memorable than some of the big fish we’ve caught.
The connections I made with Nika will undoubtedly never be rivaled by any other angler whom I know, or the next pup our family decides on getting. From growing up as a teenager to now as an adult, as well as all the fishing trips we embarked on, I enjoyed my canine companion in every aspect. Our experiences, feelings, and souls were shared together. These connections were so deep that when the tragic evening of Saturday, August 25th 2012 came, a profound, surreal sense of loss was experienced. I had truly lost something so special to me that was irreplaceable.
During the entire month of August, I was up north where I enjoyed the grand slam fishing vacation of Northern Wisconsin, Northern Minnesota, and Northwest Ontario. Nika was to join me for the majority of the month in Wisconsin but due to illness, she wasn’t well enough to be in my boat during the month’s final week. At some point during the week, she stopped eating, barely drank, lacked energy, and looked sad with fear in the eyes. Something had gone terribly wrong with her health, which resulted in my parents returning early to Chicago and admitting her to an emergency veterinary clinic.
Later that evening, following their return home, I was on the lake for one last time before it was my turn to return home. While casting for muskies in a semi-secluded bay of the lake, my dad called me in obvious tears, crying, “Andrew, we have a serious problem. It’s an emergency. Nika is in the emergency room undergoing tests. We might need to put her to sleep.”
After I receiving the most feared phone call, I felt helpless. Here I was, out on a big lake, in my boat, doing what I love while my best fishing buddy was suffering in pain at home without me with a twisted stomach that was made worse by undetected cancer in the spleen, which had rapidly infected portions of her damaged stomach. A condition originally perceived to be operable and salvageable had suddenly become inoperable. Tragedy struck.
Moments before my dad’s phone call, a dog that looked almost identical to Nika ran out to her owner’s pier, sat, and stared at me in silence for several minutes as I fished nearby.
Was this visitor trying to communicate with me? Was this a sign of Nika’s impending passing? Could this have been her messenger, or her way of telling me goodbye?
As I continue searching for the connections to make sense of everything, and try coming to terms and acceptance of her sudden passing, I can only think that all of these events I witnessed while fishing alone were her ways of telling me that everything was okay. These cryptic signs along with the most breathtaking sunset of the year I fished beneath had to be my sign that she successfully passed through the gates of Rainbow Bridge.
After receiving news of my pup’s official passing, I was the last boat remaining on the lake. I sat atop my boat’s casting deck and cried for the first time ever while fishing, let alone in any boat. On the evening of August 25th, I lost more than a pet and family member. I had lost my fishing buddy. Nika was the best fishing buddy I could have ever asked for.
If you have a dog, and have similarly experienced having a friend that totally loves you and asks for nothing but the same in return, cherish the opportunities you have with it. Looking back at my experiences with Nika, I can’t help but say how privileged I was to have her as a member of the family, and as my fishing buddy.
The boat and I will miss you, my friend.
