Several weeks before Christmas of
1991, I was wandering the mall looking for last-minute Christmas presents.
Strolling into the pet store I saw a Dalmatian puppy. Having seen
a dozen or more Dals in here before, I thought "no big deal."
However, as I walked up to the glass window this puppy's spirit reached
out to me through the glass of his cage and I suddenly belonged to
this puppy.
Knowing this was a big decision and being semi-intelligent, I went
home to confer with the boss, Pam, my wife of seven years at that
time. She went to the pet store the next day and asked the clerk if
she could hold the Dalmatian puppy. As soon as the puppy put his tiny
head on Pam's shoulder, it was all over. We brought our new puppy
home two weeks before Christmas and named him "Doc."
Living on a hilltop we can hear motorcycles driving by fairly often.
Every time Doc would hear the roar of a Harley, his ears would perk
up and he would run to the window to see what was making "that"
sound. After two weeks of this, not being too dim witted, I thought,
"Maybe he might like to ride on my Harley." I had no idea
how much our lives were about to change that fateful day.
We went out to the garage and I started the bike, let it idle, and
picked Doc up and sat on the bike. I swear he grinned and gave me
a wink. Next I attached a plastic milk crate to the passenger seat.
I placed Doc in the milk crate and attached his collar to the crate.
As we started to slowly go down our long driveway, Pam said, "Just
go to the bottom of the driveway." As Doc and Dad reached the
bottom of the driveway, Doc's mind reached out to me again, and I
heard this voice inside my head saying, "Come on Dad, let's go
for it," and we were gone.
Two hours later, Doc and Dad returned to "THE LOOK" from
Doc's Mom, Pam. Pam said, "I thought you were just going to the
bottom of the drive way." Well, hell, that's what I had thought
I was going to do, until Doc told me to keep on going. That was the
beginning of an extraordinary 10 year relationship and riding experience
with Doc.
Doc and Pam soon convinced me that Doc needed his own special box
to ride in. This would provide room for Doc to grow and Pam could
have her seat back on the motorcycle. This led to a custom-made saddlebag
being constructed for the left side of the Harley. A forty-five-pound
steal counterweight was placed in the right saddlebag so we didn't
keep driving in left-hand circles all the time from Doc's weight.
What an incredible 10 years it was chauffeuring Doc around on "his"
Harley. Doc met literally thousands of people. He touched so many
hearts. People would pass us on the freeway waving and smiling. Other
people would drive by and throw their head back, just cracking up
at the sight of Doc, wearing his brown leather, fur collared biker
jacket, his biker goggles and "doo" rag cruisin' down the
road on "his" Harley. When we would ride with a group of
other bikers, Doc would always talk and jabber letting everyone know
how much he was enjoying their companionship and the ride. On his
last big ride, he "talked" almost half the day.
Every year, Doc loved to go on Toy Runs. Last year Doc did 8 Toy Runs.
His favorites were the ones where he could meet the children that
were to receive the toys. Last year he went to Children's Hospital
in Los Angeles, where he got to go inside, and be with Santa and Santa's
helpers as the toys were handed out. The children loved Doc. They
could forget where they were and their illnesses, as Doc worked his
furry magic on them. He also had a special mellowness when he went
to nursing homes and care facilities.
Doc was a National HOG member and belonged to several local HOG Chapters
locally in the San Diego area. Doc rode about 20,000 miles every year,
rain or shine, snow, or dark of night. He never complained and as
soon as I picked up the Harley key ring, he was at the door, ready
to go. One year it had been several weeks since Doc had been on a
putt due to continual rain. Doc went to the hall closet where his
biker clothes were kept. He pawed the door open, walked inside, jammed
his nose into his leather jacket and did a giant sniff/snort, as if
to make up for not riding. Doc had jackets, goggles, a cold weather
hat, and an American flag "doo rag."
Doc even got to go to Sturgis in 2000 and while there he got flashed.
Doc did the Palm Springs run every year and the Love Ride several
times. He did the Bridgeport Rally twice, and Reno Street Vibrations
several times. He even managed to go on the Cathouse Run last year.
Alas, he was still as innocent at the end of that ride as he was at
the beginning of the ride. Dad was innocent, too. Remember "THE
LOOK" from earlier in this story.
On Friday, August 10, 2001 Doc was at "Crusin' Grand" in
Escondido. He was checking out the beautiful old and antique cars
like he did every Friday night. Doc was sitting in his box on the
bike, and while Dad's back was turned for a minute or two, some misguided
soul slipped Doc some rat poison. This
has been confirmed by three separate blood tests. Doc was sick that
night, but it never occurred to us that he had been poisoned. By the
time we thought of poisoning, it was too late and the damage was done.
He was bleeding internally from his liver. We found a donor dog and
did a blood transfusion. After Doc had the transfusion and he was
still lying on a gurney, he gave his Doctor a kiss. The new blood
helped for a short period of time. Suddenly Doc took a sharp turn
for the worse. Finally, the decision to end his pain and suffering
was made, and on Saturday, September 22, Pam and Pat lost their best
friend and their only child. The biker community lost a great ambassador
of friendship. Doc epitomized what being a biker is all about. He
had so much heart and brought so much joy to the world. He always
lived in the moment. He taught us so many life lessons.
Doc's Mom and Dad have gone separate ways, yet we will always share
the memories of ten very special years we were blessed to share with
Doc. We would like to say Thank You to all who shared riding motorcycles
with Doc or just shared a smile or a wave in passing. Thanks to all
who opened their hearts to Doc and shared his love of riding.
There will be a memorial ride for Doc on Sunday, November 18, 2001.
Meet at Ringers Bar between 9:00 a.m. to 10:00 a.m. Ride leaves at
10:00 a.m. Ringers Bar is located at 5517 Mission Road (Hwy. 76) approximately
4 Þ miles West of I-15 in Bonsall.
Please join us for a ride on some of Doc's favorite back country roads,
and share some stories and tales of the road. If you have some white
and black spotted clothing, wear some for Doc.
Since Doc's passing, Pat has adopted a 4-year-old deaf Dalmatian female.
She is presently training to ride on the Harley. Her name is "Windy."
Pat Shank, Doc's Dad
Doc's Memorial on Sunday, November 18, 2001, was an extraordinary
day. We had about 150 motorcycles, probably 225 people. About 1/3
of the people that came were wearing Dalmatian clothes or accessories.
One person told us that about 2 weeks before the ride that every fabric
store in San Diego had run out of Dalmatian material. People started
arriving an hour and a half early. People came from L. A.., Orange,
Riverside and San Diego County. They brought pictures of Doc that
they had taken over the years.
Just prior to the start of Doc's Memorial Ride, I got up and talked
for about 10 minutes. Introduced everyone to my new Dalmatian. Her
name is Windy. I found her on the internet the day after we had to
put Doc down. She is approximately 4years old. She is the sweetest
soul you have ever seen. A long time biker friend of mine, Mike Brown,
died 2 weeks before Doc's ride. He had been suffering from lymphoma.
We had the chance to do some in depth conversations before he passed
away. About 2 weeks before his death, I was over at his house and
he said that when he passed, he would find Doc, and look after him
and take care of him and take him for motorcycle rides until I joined
them. It was probably the most moving experience I have ever felt.
During the ride on Sunday, about Þ way through the ride, many of the
people on the ride said they started to feel Doc and Mike's presence
on the ride.
The ride took place on the scenic back roads of Bonsall and Fallbrook.
The weather was t-shirt warm and clear. At one point we took a winding
narrow road that snaked high above Highway 76. You could look off
to the left and see bikes winding their way up the hill for as far
as the eye could see.
One night before Mike's passing, I took Windy over to Mike's Mom's
house where he was staying. Mike was in a chair, and all on her own,
Windy put her front paws on the front lip of Mike's chair, raised
herself up, and started kissing him. A few days later we were visiting
Mike again, only this time he was in bed. All on her own, Windy, very
carefully, crawled up onto the bed with Mike, and lay alongside his
entire right side, letting him pet her.
Within a few short days Mike went comatose and was transported to
San Diego Hospice. Windy and I visited on Monday and Tuesday nights.
Each time we were there, Windy took a walk around the room and determined
which family members and friends were in the most pain over Mike's
illness. Windy then did her best to comfort them. Lots of kisses,
pets, and huge brown eyes. Each night there were about 15 to 20 people
in Mike's room. Windy always knew who needed the most comfort. Wednesday
afternoon, Mike passed away.
Windy has been comforting me so much since Doc and Mike's passing.
She is so different from Doc, but she is every bit as special as Doc,
but in her own way. I have been blessed with 2 incredible Dalmatians
in a row. There has been tremendous interest in Doc among the Dalmatian
community since his passing. I have been getting e-mail from as far
away as New York. Many people were unable to attend his Memorial Ride.
We have decided to have a 2nd Memorial Ride for Doc the Dalmatian
after the New Year. All friends of Doc are invited
Pat Shank & Windy
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