Much as we can love our cars, so much so that they themselves begin to feel like one of the family, it is the memories we share through automobiles that are the deepest of all.
I buried my Husky/Wolf a few months ago. He loved riding in my F350, scout, and my van, but refused to ride in my SRT8 or my GT. He didn't like performance cars I guess. he would hop into the truck when i was going to work, and I wouldn't notice till I got to the end of the driveway. One time, he hopped into the driver's seat of the UPS truck. He loved riding in trucks. I sometimes would take him with me to sonic and get him a plain burger.
He walked with his tail down, ears back, and head low like a wolf, and was shot while walking along the northern edge my property near a new housing development. The person who shot him somehow missed his pitch black inch and a half thick collar on his white body. He was about 300 feet in front of me chasing a rabbit while I was on my quad spraying trees for bagworms. The shooter was fined 500 bucks for discharging a firearm in city limits (runs up to the northern edge of my property) and was forced to pay me 4500 in restitution. That was the estimated cost to get another of his breed. He never even apologized.
50% hybrids can't be owned in my state anymore, those who were here were grandfathered in. So I won't be getting another one like him ever. I miss him. Even if he thought he was a 150 lb lap dog sometimes.
Photo Credit: Mike Baird