For nearly 11 years, my constant walking companion was a bi-eyed Siberian Husky, a beautiful dog with a white star on the back of her neck. Named for a city in Alaska, Sitka loved to walk, and smell everything on the way. She would sometimes prance, sometimes track a smell with her nose to the ground, but always with her beautiful tail curled high over her back.
People always commented on how beautiful she was -- and many asked if she was part wolf. But she was all Husky -- an Alpha Dog, a lead dog. She would never get tangled in her extra-long leash. If she walked around a tree or pole, she knew to backtrack without even a tug, and if the leash got tangled under her legs, she would step out of it without even breaking stride. And no dog has ever more loved frolicking in the snow or having her belly scratched.
A few days ago, I had to take her to be put down. I took her for a last long walk, let her wade in a small creek, and scratched her behind her ears. Then I put her in the car and drove her where I didn't want to go.I scratched her head and belly, gave her a last long hug and told her I would always remember her -- and cried. I'm sure I've done things in my life that were harder. But I can't think of any right now.
One of my friends wrote to me that it's not that we love pets more than people, its just that we love them better. I think she was right. And maybe they love us better, too.
Lisa Runquist, a lawyer who I know through the ABA Solosez listserve, shared a poem she wrote in tribute to her dog. It is so fitting for Sitka that I want to leave it here as a type of eulogy for my companion on so many cold mornings.
I see you running across the field --
playing with the others,
Chasing balls, squirrels, possums, cats --
you're not picky.
Always the chaser -- never the chased.
I see you greeting the children
as they run to you --
They see you as a big, fluffy toy.
You don't even growl when they pull your tail
and your ears.
I see you greeting your friends --
always smiling
that look of pure delight
when they rub your ears.
I see you "hummingbird" tail -
wagging furiously
as you locate something/ someone
in the bushes.
I see you sleeping -
your arms outstretched
as though you were praying.
Have you found Him?
Has he taken you into His arms
and told you what a good dog you are -
and what a good job you did
getting me not just to love you -
but teaching me how to accept your love?
Has he said - well done, good
and faithful servant?
Has he given you another field
with green grass
and balls, possums, squirrels and cats to chase?
You are free, now
my puppy.
You are not bound by your old, tired body -
And remember --
you will always be
my buddy, my pal,
my love,
my best friend.*
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