Nothing Butt Huskies

We met each other at the local chapter of the SPCA in March of 1993. We were driving by the facility on the way to the post office and out of the corner of my eye I saw a beautifully colored dog, huddled in the corner of a pen, outside. It was so cold, it had snowed, in fact we had just experienced a blizzard about a week before. I pleaded with my husband to please stop and just take a look. He said no because he knew I would not be able to leave without taking a pet home. We already had an 8 year old cat at home.

We proceeded to the post office and on the way back by the SPCA I again asked to stop. He relented and we did. He wanted to tour the whole facility, but I had only one pet on my mind, that beautiful dog I had seen from the road. I made my way to the pen and found a small, thin, frail looking puppy huddled against the corner of the pen, shivering. She looked up at me with the most incredible set of eyes I had ever seen. She touched something inside me that first moment. She pressed her nose through the fencing to give my hand a sniff and to lick my fingers. I knelt down in front of her pen and she pressed herself against the fence, so that my hand and knee were touching her. She just kept looking up at me, her ears down, the tip of her tail lightly wagging. I felt tears coming to my eyes.

My husband made his way to where I was, stopping at nearly every occupied pen and found me crying, touching her through the fence in silence. Immediately he said “I knew it. We can’t take her home. Forget it.” I pled my case for nearly 20 minutes, as she sat there, silently looking up at me, occasionally licking my fingertips as I reasoned with him, that this was a special animal, we couldn’t leave her there, in that pen, in the cold on the concrete. I used everything I could think of to convince him, including the argument that it was “fate”… “karma”… the fact that we went to that post office that day and she was outside where she caught my attention, it was meant to be.

We went inside and asked to see her and get her story. She was 6 months old and had been caught on the streets of the city as a stray. She had been at the shelter for nearly two weeks, the typical period of time allowed before they are “put down”. It is hard for them to keep animals for extended periods of time, as so many new animals come into the shelter on a regular basis. They told us that she seemed to be a sweet, gentle dog that surely should have found a home, they were going to allow her some extra time, to see if she could find a home, but they couldn’t wait much longer. (This may have been a pressure tactic, but I didn’t need pressuring.)

We talked for a few minutes, as my husband finally seemed to be softening. He loved animals and I could tell she had touched him too, but he was trying to be practical. I explained to him that I was uncomfortable being home alone while he worked second shift (we lived in a country setting near a highway), that I would feel better if I had a dog in the house with me. I explained that I needed a companion to walk with in the evenings and she would be perfect. (I had just begun feeling the discomfort of what would be diagnosed as my disability and was worried about walking alone on the country roads.)

He agreed! We hadn’t brought the check book out with us that day, so he left me there to go home and get it. I was permitted to take her outside on a leash and walk with her while he was gone. When they put the collar and leash on her, she bounced and pulled to get outside. We went out in the snow and got to know each other, tossing snowballs for her to catch, until he returned.

After we had her home, we scheduled a visit with our Veterinarian. During that visit he told us we should be aware that she was probably about a third wolf and had most likely been hit/bumped in her hind quarters by a car during her days as a stray in the city. She had nerve damage. She got shots and medical attention that was much needed. We took her home and bathed her and fed her. I sat with her on the couch, wrapping her in a blanket to keep her warm while her fur dried. When I thought she had fallen asleep, I got down on the floor and stretched out to watch TV. Almost without me realizing it she came down off the couch and stretched out her body against the length of mine and closed her eyes, falling asleep.

In the weeks that followed, we found her to be  unable to stand up unassisted from laying on the floor over night sleeping. She needed assistance getting up on the bed or down on the floor and wanted desperately to sleep in bed with us, under the covers no less. We started walking her multiple times a day, playing catch and fetch and tug-o-war, making her use those hindlegs, building their muscles. In about 2 months there was no evidence of any weakness or discomfort anymore when she stood or jumped up.

When we adopted Sidney in 1997 she immediately seemed to recognize that he was a special child. She protected him and wanted to be near him. She would not allow him to go near the front door without getting between him and the door and would lay out in the yard with him when he played on the swing, keeping a silent vigil over “her boy”.

In recent years, my canine soul mate and I were in the same boat. She’d been diagnosed with degenerative joint and disc diseases in her spine and hips. She had nerve root damage in her hips and was limping noticeably, falling down the stairs and wasn’t able to get on the bed or couch for nearly the last 3 years of her life, not being able to jump up anymore. As I became less able to be mobile, so did she and our diagnosis became the same. When we were having a good day, we went out for short walks together, she still followed me around the house, wanting to lay near me, be able to touch me, keep me in her sight. When we’d say the words “walk” or “ride in the car” she immediately became that 6 month old puppy and bounced to life, spinning in circles, excitedly “talking”, ready for an adventure.

Moving into a one floor home with an accessible ramp was just as much for her as it was for me. I found it difficult to fight back the tears when we looked into each other’s eyes and passed that knowing look back and forth. There was something about that look of unconditional love and trust, that knowing expression of security and comfort that we give each other. Though I knew that some time in the future I may have to make the decision to allow her to find comfort and peace from the pain she was experiencing, I knew that we would always share the bond we had since the first moment we met.

Echo had given me love, companionship, joy, comfort and so many things I can’t begin to express with words. She licked my tears when I cried, she stayed with me when I couldn’t get up because the pain was so bad, we shared so many things.

When she became in need of constant care, assistance to potty in the yard, to stand up, it was evident that she no longer had the quality of life she had helped me to enjoy. I sat down on the floor with her, pet her, as she tucked her head under my chin and pressed her nose up into my neck. We sat there for a few moments, before I moved back and looked at her, her eyes still closed. When she opened them, I saw it there, in the incredibly loving look in her eyes, she was ready.

We went to the veterinarian and explained that she was 15, wasn’t able to get around anymore and the medications he had prescribed weren’t doing much good, we thought she was ready to rest.

She lay down on the table, rested her head in my arms against my chest and went to sleep.

My angel is with me every day, in my heart, part of me. She was an incredible gift from God.