
As often as I’ve referred to dogs and featured them editorially and illustratively in my blog posts, it should come as no surprise that I regard dogs with great esteem and affection. Indeed, on October 15, 2010, I wrote, “Here’s to the simpatico in life: the 200th post goes to the dogs .”
It’s also the reason I found myself in perpetual high dungeon over the evil perpetrated by Michael Vick and his cohorts at “Bad Newz Kennels.” See, for example, “Why are we still talking about Michael Vick?” and “We don’t care about the dog.” Is the “new” Michael Vick just the “old” Michael Vick?”
But especially, I’m a sucker for a loyal dog story. Dogs, after all, are a relationship litmus test. And as I’ve previously blogged, including most recently at “Defense lawyers howl”, I can truthfully say, “I’ve never met a dog I didn’t like.“
Three are members of our household. And it’s safe to say that there will always be at least one, if not more of these canine soul mates around so long as I’m able to draw breath.
So when my brother emailed me a link today to Claudine Zap’s short heartrending story about “Hawkeye,” the Black Labrador who “At funeral, dog mourns the death of Navy SEAL killed in Afghanistan,” I could not help but be moved. Jon T. Tumilson was one of 30 Americans killed when their Chinook helicopter was shot down on August 6, 2011. Tumilson and Hawkeye had such a close bond that family and friends say he called his beloved lab, “his son.”
Of such a bond, I can relate as can my nearest family, dearest friends, and my closest colleagues. Indeed, one lawyer friend I know, whose own lab is getting on in years, worries about “Max,” his devoted traveling companion, untiring office mate, and yes, much-loved dog he also calls, “son.”
In reflecting on Hawkeye’s devotion to Jon Tumilson, it’s fitting to recall here, the words of lawyer and senator George Vest who long ago proclaimed at trial about the dog, “he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.”

This is the saddest thing I have ever seen and yet the most sweetest too. Beautiful dog. They will see each other again one day.
I don’t remember the poet, but this has always stuck with me since loosing my beloved golden, Dakota: “Out beyond good doing and wrong doing there is a field, I’ll meet you there.”
Cindy,
Thank you for commenting. Hawkeye’s loss is profound. As humans, we know the flip side all too well, the heartache of losing a beloved pet.
Your beautiful quote prompted me to look up its origin. It is by a 13th century Persian poet, jurist, theologian and mystic named Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī.
- Mo