The Iris Story
I’ve always had a profound affinity for dogs. Growing up, they were woven into the rhythm of family life, with our parents ensuring these loyal companions were always well-cared for. Yet, as I transitioned into adulthood, life’s demands and distractions prevented me from bringing a dog into my own home. That all changed in 2001, when a remarkable being named Iris entered my life and forever altered its course.
Iris wasn’t just any dog. She was an ethereal presence, a luminous white German Shepherd who emerged, almost mythologically, from the Clackamas Wilderness. Discovered by my sister and a Forest Ranger, she and her mother had been wandering the rugged terrain, survivors in every sense of the word. While her mother eluded capture, Iris chose a different path. At ten months old, she approached the humans who found her with a blend of curiosity and trust, as if guided by some higher wisdom that knew her destiny was entwined with ours.
On one of our many hikes, Iris was the greatest hiker ever.
When my sister brought Iris to visit us, I was hesitant. My wife Sharon and I both had full-time careers that left little room for the responsibilities a dog demands. But Iris had other plans. From the very first visit, she moved through our home not as a guest but as though she had finally arrived where she was meant to be. Her calm, knowing demeanor tugged fiercely at my heart. She belonged with us—I felt it deeply. That night, when she left with my sister, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. The sense of connection was immediate and profound.
Naming her “Iris” felt like destiny, both for her striking beauty and for a shared love that Sharon and I had for the flower of the same name. The name carried weight, symbolic of hope and renewal, emotions that would come to define our relationship with her.
resting on the couch after a six-mile jog together.
From the moment she joined our family, Iris proved she was no ordinary companion. A superb athlete, she moved with unparalleled grace, her agility a testament to her time surviving in the wild. On one memorable day, she leapt nearly seven feet into a tree to chase a squirrel, her survival instincts honed to perfection during her formative time in the wilderness. But her physical prowess was equaled only by her gentle, sensitive spirit. Whether bounding ahead on a trail or curling up by our feet at home, she existed as both the protector and the nurturer.
Our adventures together remain some of the most cherished memories of my life. Iris accompanied me on many of my local runs through the countryside, taking delight in running with me, and then sprinting far ahead, to await her slow friend to catch up with her. Iris was an adventurer at heart, joining my wife and I on hikes through the Oregon Coast, Mt. Hood National forest, the Columbia River Gorge, Eastern Oregon deserts, and even the towering California Redwoods. There was a quiet magic in the way she led our hikes, scouting ahead and returning to ensure our safety. Her innate protectiveness revealed itself most poignantly during these wilderness journeys. She seemed to understand the balance between nature’s beauty and its dangers, once even preventing Sharon from unknowingly heading into a precarious area. Iris was far more than a companion; she was a guardian, steadfast and intuitive.
Mt St Helens hike, 2003
Her loyalty wasn’t limited to outdoor excursions. At home, she nestled into our lives, providing comfort and joy. She had an impeccable ability to understand human emotions, responding with an almost miraculous sensitivity. She slept serenely beside our bed, always present and always offering the kind of companionship that only a dog like Iris could. She welcomed strangers, befriended other animals, and cared for our grandsons as though they were her pack. She was everything one could hope for in a friend, a family member, and a cherished soul.
Iris also had a mysterious, almost otherworldly quality to her. This was never clearer than the day she saved my life, during an incident at home when fallen trees threatened to collapse our roof, Iris and I walked into the compromised home while arborists worked on manlifts, attempting to lift two cottonwood trees off of the roof of our home.
One of the men working overhead accidentally dropped a six-foot section of the thirty-inch diameter tree trunk. As I walked in front of Iris, she barked frantically, signaling me to step away from my position back to hers just moments before that massive section of a tree came crashing down where I had been standing. Her timing, her instinct, was nothing short of miraculous. It was as if she embodied some divine connection, always watching over us with a vigilance that went far beyond mere loyalty.
Note: In forty-two years, the arborist had never lost a load before. I would have been crushed.
April 2007 might have been my last day on earth, had it not been for Iris.
When we lost her in December of 2007, my grief was overwhelming. She passed unexpectedly next to our bed in the early morning hours, with Sharon and me by her side. The piercing cry that marked her departure is forever etched in my soul, a sound that encapsulated the profundity of goodbye. I held her as she took her final breath, heartbroken, and yet grateful that we were there for her in her last moments, just as she had been for us countless times before.
Her departure left a void that was both immense and unbearable, and I carried with me a crushing guilt. I blamed my struggles with addiction, my human frailty, for her passing. It took time, healing, and reflection to see the truth—that Iris, in her infinite love and grace, had given us gifts that far outweighed the sorrow of her loss.
Even in her absence, she continued to touch our lives. Exactly one year to the moment of her death, Rocky, my father’s dog and Iris’s dear friend, howled mournfully in the night. It was Rocky’s first and only time he had ever howled while my father slept. It was a poignant reminder that love, and connection extend far beyond physical presence.
My father and Rocky
Iris was not just a dog; she was an angel in every sense of the word. She brought order to chaos, light to our darkest moments, and an unshakable reminder of what unconditional love truly means. Losing her was one of the deepest heartaches I’ve known, but her spirit lingers in the fabric of my being and the lives of all who knew her.
She was, and will always be, more than just a companion. She was family, protector, savior, and joy wrapped into one incredible being. To this day, I miss her deeply, but I carry her spirit with me, knowing that she was a manifestation of the best of what life and love have to offer.
