Every friend I have across the States, Canada, England, Finland, Sweden, Australia, Germany, Hungary and all points in between, I have because I said "I'll take her."
Every rescue I've saved, every stray reunited with their owners, every dog of my own, they all have their good fortune today because I said "I'll take her."
They're just three little words, but 10 years ago they altered the course of my life, and hers, and countless others as well. Whoda thunk?
The dog, of course, is Willow the Perfect. She didn't start out that way that's for sure! I had already decided I wanted a siberian to show, and was on a list, but couldn't let a 5-month old baby go to the pound because her owner was irresponsible and let her roam. The first few months were a battle - food bowl aggressive, alpha, and all attitude. I won, thank goodness! :) Those of you who know me today laugh at that thought, but back then...
She was the most beautiful dog I'd ever seen. I didn't know much in the way of conformation to be sure. My eyes and hands quickly learned, though my heart did not. My undershot, easty-westy, cow-hocked girl (with the nice topline, huh Patty - smiles) is still one of the most beautiful dogs I've ever been blessed to cross my threshold.
In her middle years Willow earned her CGC and could have easily earned obedience titles, but we never pursued it, I was always so busy. Known as Air Willow for her ability to flat-footed jump up and look me in the eye (I'm 5'8"), she was my "go to" dog for siberian specific and canine education events, or when neighborhood kids just wanted to love on a dog.
She was my first therapy dog - not certified - but she didn't need to be to visit grandma and mama during their battles. She showed me the profound specialness of pet therapy and of giving back. She helped an amazing number of rescues with no dog skills learn how to properly interact with other dogs. She is the *best* with kennel barkers. Just crate her next to one and when they start up, she just goes off one time, and poof... instant silence from the offender. I've often wondered what exactly she said, and how I could say the same thing as clearly and effectively. She was never a show dog, never a great contributor to performance or other such things, but I proudly named my kennel after Woo, who in her little way, gave so much. She will forever be the heart of WooPak.
I had at first decided to keep this close to home while we dealt with things but after my most recent news I decided that we, Willow and I, will celebrate and share this final chapter of our journey as we celebrated every other part of it - with our friends. I realize there's nothing worse than someone prattling on and on about how perfect their fur-kids are (smiles), so forgive me this once. She is, after all, the perfect dog. Yes, indeed. "I'll take her."
I've always said she'd live to be 17. No one ever guessed her to be anywhere near her age, she's always been so youthful. Sadly that is not in our cards. After her fall down the stairs in late December, she was doing well for a short while and then she quit using the injured leg completely. Just days after her 10th birthday a trip to the vet confirmed what my heart told me. She has Osteosarcoma (bone cancer). After that unwelcome news and discussions of possible methods of dealing with it, I told my vet I wanted to take a few days and absorb this and to think about how best to proceed with her limited options. Within a few short days the relatively small mass at the break site more than tripled in size, and worked its way well up the thigh and onward, thus making the decision for us. Its extremely aggressive growth has astounded both myself and my vet, and it means our time left together very limited indeed.
Her greatest pleasure these days is a jaunt outside the fenced yard and so we go for sniff-abouts on her good days. She has always been queen of the house, and still is, ruling from her ex-pen in the den, she shows her pearly whites with a grumble for any of the fur-kids foolish enough to race by or show interest in her dinner. Gandalf, an old-fart, gimpy aussie and another very special dog for me, has decided Willow is his special lady, and he can most often be found laying outside her expen door keeping her company whether she wants it or not - most often not - which gets HIM a grumble and a show of pearly whites for his efforts. Like an old married couple he ignores her bad moods and like a lovesick fool, he stays put. He, too, is the best of dogs.
All those years ago, I said "I'll take her" I had no idea that it was she, my Woo, who would really lead this journey. How lucky am I to have been blessed with her.
The Sanskrit word Namaste means 'I honor the spirit in you, which is also in me."
I refuse to regret what we will not have. I choose to celebrate what we've been given and what we have left. I encourage everyone to join me and celebrate this remaining time with us in your own way. Special time with your furkids on a sniff-about, extra scritches, candles and warm thoughts, a trip to the ice cream parlor, or perhaps mackerel for the furkids (though not everyone should do that, Willow says most of it should go to her!).
Cedar raced over to greet me. I am one of her favorite few people. Food has a lot to do with it. Cedar was shy as a pup with a weakness for food that I exploited shamelessly - I fully admit it. She's always happy to see me now. :) I put my chair in the shade and we said our good mornings, the dogs greeted each other, and then Maura filled me in on her creepy morning.
When the darkness begins to settle like a blanket over the land is when i often find myself out at the barn doing chores, tending the animals, enjoying the cooler than boiling heat of the day to spend a few minutes looking over the lambs, or walking the dogs. Last night was a night much the same as that and as I looked out towards the field, there, on the left, is a dense line of trees between the property and the next and it happened to glow. 
Every scrap I know today about dogs, training, animal behavior and dogsports
