July 2022

I just want to share that Sparky died today. He was 14 years 9 months.

He was amazing and had a great life.

January 2022

We adopted Kenai, a 9-year-old Malamute, in early August of 2021. His family had surrendered him because they were relocating and feared that he would not survive the trip from the Pacific Northwest to the East Coast. Originally, I was highly suspicious of this explanation and thought that they simply wanted to abandon Kenai. As time passed, however, I realized that they made what was a painful and difficult decision but one that was in Kenai’s best interest.

Kenai had a disease called megaesophagus, which is an enlargement and disfunction of the esophagus. Its underlying cause is often a serious neurological condition called myasthenia gravis. I thought that caring for Kenai would be easy – just administer his daily medication and feed him from an elevated bowl. A trip to the vet, however, revealed that caring for him wouldn’t be so simple after all. It was Kenai – not his bowl -- who had to be elevated, his water consumption had to be strictly monitored and controlled, and quite possibly his medication was ineffective.

When I arrived home with Kenai, Yuma, our 11-year-old Malamute mix, initially seemed to accept Kenai but very quickly attacked him and badly wounded the back of his neck. I wasn’t sure that the adoption was viable but segregating the dogs and slowly increasing their contact helped. So did Kenai’s non-threatening nature, as well as Yuma’s recognition that Kenai was ill and required special treatment. (Earlier, Yuma had been very conscientious in serving as the ears for Xena, an 11-year-old Mal/Husky mix who was deaf.)

Kenai’s adjustment to his new life and to the rhythm of our household seemed almost instantaneous. He was docile and actively friendly to all people and all creatures except deer. He was also extremely obedient – the first Malamute I’ve had who was actually obedient when he wasn’t acting to impress. (That quickly changed as his vitality improved – he became an affectionately defiant dog.) But I realized that he was more than affectionate and friendly – he fell in love with us and became particularly devoted to me.

The depth of Kenai’s love and devotion became evident one day when I was playing with Yuma and his favorite toy. Rather than give it to me so that I could toss it to him, he growled to indicate he wanted me to chase him. Kenai misread the growl as an act of aggression and immediately came to my defense, despite knowing very well that he was not a fighter. Had we not intercepted both dogs, the episode could have ended in catastrophe. But Kenai was unconcerned with his personal fate – his concern was with protecting me.

A pattern soon emerged in Kenai’s care. We would succeed in stabilizing his condition, he would thrive for a brief period, and then he would begin to decline. His neurologist was hopeful that we could stabilize him for a long period of time, but each new round of tests simply brought more bad news about additional complications. In January of 2022, his condition began to deteriorate rapidly. He passed away in the early morning of January 12, slightly more than five months after we adopted him. As he died, he was looking at me with the same mixture of devotion and admiration that he showed throughout his time with us.

In a well-known chapter in 1 Corinthians, the Apostle Paul writes about the importance of love. What we often overlook is why he argues that love is so important: it is the primary force, along with faith and hope, that transcends the boundaries of space and time and carries us into eternity. Kenai loved with the fullness of his being, and I pray that we will be together again in the fullness of time.

July 2019

Yiska is a Navaho name that means the night has passed. We named our two-year-old Malamute mix Yiska because his night had passed – he was scheduled to be euthanized on the day that WAMAL removed him from a kill shelter. It was always clear to me that Yiska understood just how close he had come to death.

When my late wife Vanessa and I first met Yiska, he was waiting for us in an enclosure. As I entered, our eyes made contact, and Yiska immediately approached me, jumped on me, and stuck his face in my face as he carefully examined me. (Vanessa always insisted that Yiska desperately needed glasses.) I knew immediately that he was our dog. (Interestingly, we later discovered that Yiska disliked and distrusted men.) Unfortunately, he then did the same thing to Vanessa. Because she was short, he towered over her, and she was frightened. He then topped off his performance by going behind her, jumping on her shoulders, and inspecting the back of her head. While it was obvious to me that Yiska was our dog, Vanessa was not convinced. We did, however, finally adopt Yiska and brought him home.

Yiska had an unusual case of separation anxiety – it surfaced whenever I left home, even if Vanessa or our daughters were home. Its severity, of course, was worse when no one was home, as we soon discovered. The first time we left Yiska home alone and uncrated, we came home to find garbage strewn all over the floor, the blinds in the kitchen and upstairs bathroom pulled down and chewed to pieces, the lower kitchen cabinet doors open with broken dishes strewn on the floor, and the family room furniture pulled out from the wall into the center of the room. It was an impressive scene of carnage and devastation.

Along with medication, we tried crating Yiska when we left home, with indifferent success. Although I reinforced the cages, a heavy-duty crate lasted on average for only about three weeks. Just maintaining a viable crate for Yiska proved to be a major challenge.

You might wonder why we wanted to keep a dog who was so destructive. Part of the reason is that, in the end, he only destroyed dishes and household possessions, some of which we replaced and some of which we realized we didn’t really need in the first place. But more importantly, in his own life, Yiska manifested love, commitment, and faithfulness. Dogs by their very nature are faithful; Yiska took faithfulness to new levels. He was absolutely devoted to me, had an uncanny ability to anticipate my thoughts, and was always eager to provide whatever support he could. He was an amazing, loving friend and comrade. The trail of devastation that he left behind is trivial in comparison to the strength of his personality and his love.

The first time Yiska’s night approached, it passed him by through an act of mercy. No living being can forever avoid nightfall, however. On the evening of Monday, July 15, 2019, at the age of 13, Yiska’s night did not pass. He lives on in our memories, and he lives on in his legacy of hope, faithfulness, and love.

June 2022

Although I was hoping the big guy would have some more months of easy retirement, today I sent him on his way, after only two months with us.

I believe the technical term for his condition was "a mess." I took him in on Friday for blood and urine tests and they indicated a few issues (early Cushings, thyroid deficiency, etc.) His mobility had decreased recently, although he did lose 11 pounds since I adopted him and was "down to" 138 pounds. But he no longer wanted to go on a walk, and had trouble lying down and getting back up. Vet said he thought there was cruciate ligament damage (maybe due to being overweight?)

He also continued to poop in his sleep every night, and leaked urine constantly. Near the end he slept on "gigantic" pee pads which he almost always stayed on overnight. I thought this was an early indication of DM (degenerative myelopathy) -- one sign of which is incontinence. He also stumbled sometimes and his rear legs shook.
 

Yesterday I discovered that he had chewed off (and ate) the tip of his tail. That meant a visit back to the vet, during which we talked about all the above issues and I decided his quality of life was diminishing; I held him as he died. (The vet said his tail was mostly dead tissue, so he probably didn't feel pain chewing it off. Plus there was not much blood at the wound site; another indication of dead tissue.)