I've attached some pictures of him above. Walker was a frustratingly beautiful dog, one you couldn't touch unless he jammed his giant snout into the side of your leg (and even then he might not want you to touch him). I took his warnings seriously. He once killed a fawn (ugh, the heartbreak), caught a wild turkey mid-air, and sent some very tough guys running from the front door.
My favorite short story is William Faulkner's The Bear, and I always think of Walker when I read about the loyal and vicious Lion.
Below is the eulogy I wrote for him the day my father-in-law put him down:
RIP Spiritwalker, aka Walker, aka Man-Eating Terrier. I loved you in a complicated way.
I will miss you when I walk to the barn. I will miss you when I open the garage door, and you are not there to growl at me. I will miss you when I reach out to get my shoes, and you are not there to gnash your teeth. I will miss you spending dinner parties locked in the truck. I will miss you drooling on my feet when I feed the dogs. I will miss fearing you when I sneak into the house. I will miss being glad you're there in case someone else tries to sneak into the house.
I will miss your scholarly eyebrows and the angry T. Rex sounds you were capable of making. I will miss watching you make a go for the barn swallows, even when you could hardly walk. I will miss watching you try to play. I will miss watching you try to be a good dog.
Did he try all that hard? These sort of mixed emotions always find their way into my work. Here's to the good dogs in our lives, and the bad.