John  Foster has always been an animal lover, and over the years, he has had a deep bond with his pets, especially his dogs. One of his most well-known dogs was Strider, a beloved collie named after the character Aragorn (who was initially called Strider) from The Lord of the Rings……Read more

Sure! Here’s an 800-word narrative-style piece about John Foster and his bond with his dog Strider:

John Foster and Strider: A Bond Beyond Words

John Foster has always believed that the best relationships in life are often the ones that don’t require words. Over the years, he’s had many close friendships, but none quite like the ones he’s shared with his pets—particularly his dogs. Among them, one stood out above the rest: a dignified and fiercely loyal collie named Strider.

Strider wasn’t just a pet. He was a constant companion, a confidant, and, in many ways, a reflection of John himself. Named after the ranger from The Lord of the Rings, Strider carried the name of Aragorn’s alias with the same quiet strength and nobility. The connection wasn’t accidental. John, a lifelong fan of Tolkien’s work, had always admired the character’s blend of wild independence and deep loyalty. When he first saw the fluffy, sable-and-white collie pup with piercing eyes and a reserved demeanor, he knew instantly what the name would be.

John adopted Strider from a rescue shelter when the dog was just a year old. Strider had already lived a hard life. Found abandoned near a rural road, he was malnourished and skittish. The shelter staff warned John that he might be a challenge to socialize. But John wasn’t deterred. He saw in the young collie a soul that simply needed time and trust.

“I didn’t choose him because he was perfect,” John once said. “I chose him because he needed someone to believe in him.”

The first few months were quiet. Strider followed John around the house but kept a safe distance. He rarely barked, never demanded attention, and would often sit and watch out the window for hours. But slowly, day by day, something shifted. John would sit nearby and read aloud from Tolkien, allowing his voice to fill the space with calm. He began to notice Strider inching closer with each reading, until one day the dog placed his head on John’s foot and fell asleep.

It was the start of a remarkable companionship.

As time went on, the bond between man and dog became almost telepathic. Strider would anticipate John’s moods, often sitting quietly by his side during difficult times and bouncing with excitement during happier moments. They hiked through forests together, walked the shoreline during stormy afternoons, and curled up on the couch for long winter nights. Strider was always there, a silent yet powerful presence.

“He taught me more about patience than any person ever could,” John recalled. “He showed me that trust doesn’t come quickly, but when it does, it’s unbreakable.”

Strider had a distinct personality—calm, thoughtful, and oddly regal. Neighbors often commented that he didn’t behave like a typical dog. He didn’t bark at passersby or chase after squirrels. Instead, he watched. Observed. Guarded. Like the ranger he was named after, he seemed to know things without being told. He had a way of grounding the people around him, offering comfort without trying.

For twelve years, Strider was at John’s side through life’s ups and downs—job changes, personal losses, and quiet, joyful moments. They became local fixtures in their neighborhood, the man with the collie who seemed to walk as if they shared one mind. Strider was loved not just by John but by all who met him. Children would stop to pet him, and elderly neighbors would smile when he passed by. Strider had a calmness that reached others, like a quiet ripple in a noisy world.

But time, as it does, began to catch up.

Strider started to slow down. Walks became shorter, naps became longer, and John knew the inevitable was drawing near. Still, they made the most of their remaining time. John carried him when his legs gave out, hand-fed him treats he loved, and sat with him late into the night, whispering stories from Middle-earth like he had in the beginning.

When the day finally came to say goodbye, it was peaceful. Strider lay in John’s lap in their sun-drenched backyard, surrounded by the scent of flowers and the sound of birds. John held him close, thanked him for everything, and let him go with dignity—the same way he had lived.

The house felt impossibly quiet afterward. John kept Strider’s collar on the mantel, along with a framed photo of them together on a forest trail. He still walks the path they once took, pausing at the places where Strider would sit and watch the world.

“I still feel him,” John says softly. “Sometimes, when the wind shifts just right or the light hits a certain way, it’s like he’s still walking beside me.”

Strider may be gone, but the bond he and John shared remains. It was never just about fetch or food or long walks. It was about the kind of connection that transcends language—the kind that speaks to the heart, that changes who we are, and that leaves a quiet, enduring legacy.

John Foster’s life has been richer for having known Strider. And for those who knew them, the man and his collie will always be remembered—not just as pet and owner, but as two kindred spirits who walked through life together, one silent step at a time.