He was big and fierce and loved his family unconditionally. At the first inkling of a threat, he would put himself between that threat and those he loved.
But he didn't like getting his feet wet and he'd rather hold it in all day than go out in the snow.
He had a look that could make make bad guys quake in their boots.
And then he had this look where he knitted his incredibly expressive eyebrows as if he was trying to figure out what on earth this human was talking about. Particularly in my case.
He was a Presa with a handsome face, and when he wanted to kiss you, there was no sloppy nonsense. Just a big buss on the cheek.
Patton was smart and never ceased to amaze. He understood body language as well as words. There were times, if your body tensed, or you just whispered, 'What's that?' he was on full alert, checking out the windows in the house, looking for the danger. Nobody but nobody was going to get past him.
But he was just as likely to walk to where you were sitting and put that great, heavy head on your lap and look up at you with brown eyes that let you know he loved you - and if maybe you could just scritch him a little below that left shoulder...
It always seemed that Patton's favorite time of day was when his 'dad' came home from work. His dad and best friend. As soon as he heard that car pull into the driveway, there was a mad dash to get to the door, front paws going one way, back paws sliding around the corner trying to catch up. Then there would be lots of jumping and barking. Sheer, unadulterated joy.
Now it's just quiet.
Everyone thinks their dog is special. But Patton had such magnificent qualities of character. Not only courageousness, but a visible intelligence and tenderness with those he loved. And just enough goofiness mixed in to make him endearing.
I miss you, Patton.
I know there will be a time when I can think about you and smile and not cry, but not today.
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