In the beginning, there were dogs....

Recently, I realized that at the end of this year I will have been "working" my dream job for an entire decade. That's right! Come December 1st, I will have spent 10 years following man's best friend around, often scrambling to keep up, attempting to control them, too frequently yielding to their whims, and pretty much picking up anything that comes out their less attractive ends. Why is this my "dream job", you may ask? Well, to fully answer that I need to start at the beginning... 
For all the difficulties that may have existed, my childhood was very fortunate because my family included many creatures of all shapes and sizes. From bunnies to kitties to goats to horses, my days were filled with critters galore. But it was canis lupus familiaris that held a special place in my heart. In fact, I often felt a closer friendship with our dogs than I did with most people. Two, in particular, I consider to be my dearest childhood friends to this day. 

Maggie & me

At some point in my youth (my mom and sisters could provide years and ages), our family went looking for a new dog. I'm sure we looked at several different breeds, but I know we visited a dalmatian breeder. My sisters and I must have seen 101 Dalmatians on tv which piqued our desires for a cute, spotted puppy. Although the Disney movie had originally come out over a decade earlier, the fervor for the breed had resulted in horrible inbreeding to attempt to keep up with the demand. I remember that the dogs we visited were incredibly high-strung and not desirable at all. Not long after, the decision was made to get a golden retriever. After seeing those fuzzy, little sausages with their sweet temperaments and irresistible cuteness, the decision was unanimous. Thus entered Maggie, my new best friend. I seem to remember that she was 'technically' my oldest sister's dog. One of the purposes was for her to attend obedience classes with Maggie with the aim of showing her at the county fair. And while she did go to those classes, I know that I frequently helped to reinforce what Maggie was learning by continuing training at home. Evidence of this can be seen in this (terribly blurry) photo of us practicing 'heel' in the driveway. (Please forgive my lack of fashion sense. Just look at that adorable pup!) Maggie made only one appearance at the fair. Being the typical golden, she become overwhelmed when the judge approached her. And it was everything my sister could do to keep her from chasing an errant wrapper that blew around in front of her. In the end, I don't think they won a ribbon, but she did succeed in making the judge smile. (Which, in my book, is always worthy of a blue ribbon!) What she lacked in show dog qualities, she excelled in companionship. We lived in the country and visiting friends was difficult because riding bikes on those roads was very dicey. Maggie quickly became my surrogate. We spent hours together outside, running around during the summer and romping in the snow in winter. She kept my secrets and never failed to put a smile on my face. I couldn't have asked for a better friend. Years later, we found a growth on her upper front leg. The vet took a biopsy and we waited for the results. I was sitting at the dining room table one day soon after and glanced down at Maggie laying at my feet. I was alarmed to see the incision gaping up at me like a gruesome grin. She had broken nearly all the stitches. Within an hour of taking Maggie back to the vet, my mom returned alone looking around frantically. She said the vet had sent her home for a bucket. After finding one, she left, leaving me curious about what was going on. When she come home with Maggie, the answer was revealed: a homemade 'cone of shame' on her head. This was a long time ago and if there were e-collars for dogs, they weren't available in small veterinarian offices like ours. As you can expect, the news wasn't good. Maggie had cancer. As I recall, they did try to remove the growth from her leg and she had to keep wearing the bucket as the incision was situated right where her head would rest. One of my favorite photos of my childhood is a picture of her and my grandmother during this time. My grandmother had also recently been diagnosed with breast cancer and in a wonderful gesture of solidarity, she posed sitting next to Maggie on the deck with her own bucket perched on her head. I wish I had it to share. I would have to defer to family members to recall how much longer we had Maggie with us. I know that after the first surgery, the vet found that the cancer was very aggressive and had already begun to spread up her neck. The most difficult decision had to be made and I said goodbye to the closest canine friend I had thus far.

Again, I need my mom's help to remember how much time passed, but soon after Maggie passed I was sitting on the couch looking at the classified section of the newspaper. For those who don't know, the classifieds were today's Craigslist and I remember enjoying leafing through items for sale, items needed, and jobs. I was never looking for anything for myself. It was just something to do. And there in the 'animals for sale' section was a listing for Siberian husky puppies, $100 each. In my mind, that was a ton of money, but I casually mentioned it to my mom. Not thinking anything of it, I went up to my room. Moments later, she came upstairs. "If you'd like, we can go look at those puppies." What?! Seriously?! She thought that it would be nice if I had a dog that was my own. So we went to check them out. I remember there were probably 10 puppies, almost all of them crawling all over our feet, pulling laces to untie our shoes, rolling around, and being insanely cute. But I noticed one puppy in particular who wasn't part of the crowd. She sat outside of the chaos and watched us cautiously. Not only was she not part of the 'in crowd' just like me, but she had two different colored eyes! I had never seen that before and I knew immediately that she was the one for me. She was the only dog I've ever had that came with papers! That's right. Her father was a champion and we had to come up with an official name for her. I can't remember his title, but it had Kamchatka in it. I began looking at names in Russia and stumbled across a name I liked that is technically an island in the Aleutian islands called Kiska. And so we welcomed Kamchatka's Princess Kiska to our humble home! While she still seemed a little demure, she definitely came out of that puppy shell she showed me the first day. Just like Maggie before her, Kiska quickly became my closest friend and confidante. I remember taking long walks with her and telling her all my teenage issues. I would howl to her from my upstairs bathroom window and she would answer back. Although she and Maggie had many similarities, there were some big differences. First off, she never seemed very comfortable being inside for long. While she enjoyed sitting with us, she was most comfortable outdoors. The other big difference was that she couldn't be let loose. I am a little ashamed to admit that we allowed Maggie free reign of the woods around our house. She never went too far and the only trouble she ever got into was the rare times she brought 'gifts' to us. Once, it was a newly born bunny that didn't even have hair. It really seemed like she wanted us to help it, but it was unfortunately too late. Another time, she brought a rather gruesome present, a deer's leg. I don't think any of us went looking for the rest of it. It was difficult to chastise Maggie much as she was a retriever; however, Kiska was a husky. And a husky's job is to run. If we had left her to her own devices, we may have lost her forever. As ashamed as I am about Maggie's freedom, I'm also somewhat ashamed to admit that we kept Kiska tethered in the yard. It was for her protection, though, and she had a long lead. She was never the lone dog in the yard. She even had a dog house, though she never used it. Not even during the winter. I would look out from that bathroom window and my heart would drop because I couldn't see her. She was there, buried in a layer of newly fallen snow. When I hear about people complaining that races like the Iditarod are cruel to the dogs, I know that they've never known a husky. Kiska would pull me forever, if I let her. And she would go for hours if she could. The only thing holding her back was my laziness! As I said, she was the anchor that got me through so much teen angst, but soon our lives would change forever. I was nearing graduation and would be going to college. At the same time, my mom had decided to sell the home in the country and move to one in town. We both agreed that this just wasn't fair to Kiska. She deserved more attention than we would be able to give and she just wouldn't be a good city dog. If she were to get loose, the consequences would be deadly. Reluctantly and with a broken heart, we made the impossible decision to find her a new home. I can't remember if other families came to meet her. I just remember that the family that she left with had a young girl who was around the same age I was when Maggie was my best friend. The connection between Kiska and that girl was pretty immediate and I thought that it would comfort me knowing that this girl would have Kiska to play with and keep all her secrets, just as I had Maggie. I'm sure they told me I could come see her, but I never did. I knew it would be too painful for me and I now know it could have been difficult for Kiska, as well. She and Maggie will always hold a special place in my heart. And soon I would realize that the absence of a dog in my life was truly a struggle for me. It would take over a decade for me to connect with a new canine. And he would turn out to be grouchy, irascible, difficult, and so very dear to my heart.