Dog of our Heart

REFLEX
When I heard the jingle of a collar as I was making tea this morning, a hopeful flash raced through my body before my mind had time to stop it. KEESHA’S BACK! Of course she’s not; she’s dead. Transitioned. Crossed over. It was my daughter's dog's collar. My body keeps anticipating what my mind knows is not true. Grief has many faces. I’m a little confused, really tired and have no sense of time. I cleared my schedule to give myself the space I need to honor my companion, which includes writing these highlights of our time with Keesha.

STROKE OF LUCK

When Bella was 6, she started riding lessons at a local riding center, Mita Sunke (which means “my horse” in Oglala Sioux). Lizzie was 2 and would observe Bella’s lessons with me. The first time we set eyes on Keesha she was tied near the parking lot, and she dropped down and rolled over for a belly rub. We kneeled and stroked her soft, red coat. When I looked into her eyes I thought: “You are my dog!” But that was impossible! She belonged to the wonderful family who ran Mita Sunke. I walked over to Sandy, one of the barn owners, and commented: “I just LOVE your dog.”

“Do you want her?” she asked point blank.
I thought she was joking, but she explained that between starting the therapeutic riding center and taking care of two young children they didn’t have enough time to also give Keesha, a high energy Chow mix, the attention she needed.  “Yes! Yes!” I replied without hesitation. I had envisioned a cozy, fuzzy bear of a dog joining our family someday. Evidently Keesha’s mom had been pure bred Chow with a loving temperament. A Lab/Australian Cattle dog mix had broken his way in with the Chows and Keesha was one of the results of that union. She must have been an adorable puppy!

HOME SWEET HOME

That day in September 1997, Brian drove the truck as Bella, Liz and I sat in the bed clutching our new fluffy pup who quaked in fear the whole way home. You can imagine the disgust our cat, Sufi, displayed at the sight, but eventually they became fast friends and only a week later another cat, Angel, showed up on our porch. The three became a team for many years traveling to the door together whenever the front doorbell rang.

What impressed us was Keesha’s sense of gratitude. We bought her a bed and she immediately tried it out. We bought her a stuffed toy. Instead of mauling it, she rolled over on her back and held it between her two front paws balanced on her nose. Her toys lasted for years.

NICKNAMES

Keesha inherited nicknames. My sister was fond of referring to her as “Paloosh,” which means stuffed animal in French, and indeed she had the softest, most luxurious coat around. Keesha became my “Wonder Dog.” She had the energy of a super hero and the heart to go along with it. Her love healed all of us as we cried tears into her soft coat during difficult times and her high energy was evident; she easily accompanied me on occasional five-mile runs around the Boulder Reservoir. Daily, we walked the Niwot trails, spotting bald eagles and coyote. Bella was fond of calling Keesha "Squishy."

 

OF HOOPS AND HEADLESS BIRDS

Bella channeled Keesha’s energy into dog agility and taught her to leap through hoops and over high fences, up ramps and around cones. They never entered a competition, but it is likely the team would have done well. Keesha’s agility was also evident by the amount of headless birds I discovered in the yard on a regular basis. She would dash like lightening and catch them mid take off. She killed bunnies regularly and Bella was kind as to dispose of them for me.

HIDE AND SEEK
Keesha loved to be engaged. A favorite activity of ours in our sprawling Niwot ranch home was to make her sit and stay. Then, all three of us would hide in different places in the house. I would call and she would come galloping through the house careening around corners looking for us, never stopping until she found all three of us. She always looked in the bathtubs first since they were a favorite hiding place, so we tried to outsmart her, which was virtually impossible.

Dally, Oliver and Keesha

OUTCAST ACCEPTED
I began taking her to dog parks. It was obvious she had not been socialized. She didn’t know how to play like a dog and it was sort of like watching a nervous awkward child trying to make friends, terrified of rejection. All the dogs would run one direction. Keesha would follow at the back, and they would turn as a pack and Keesha would get rolled and trampled. She would trot back to me with her head down. I worked with her in our back yard. I played like a dog and labeled it “play play!” At the dog park she would look at me, as though to say: “Are they going to hurt me, Mom?” I would shout: “play play” and she would romp, occasionally succeeding at engaging a dog. She would be so proud! That served us well later when Bella brought home a German Shephard mix from the pound named Oliver. Keesha loved Oliver and watching them play was so much fun. She even chased a ball if he was after it; however, he could easily outrun her, which made her half crazy. She had finally met the guy who was faster and could keep her in line, and he had encountered a wise and experienced beauty. The mutual respect was obvious.

TRANSLATION PLEASE

Strangers who rang the bell always took a step back when I opened the door. She looked intimidating but was a big lover. Not once in her life did she ever growl or show any aggression towards a human being. Our vet, Dr. Irene Takahashi, called her the sweetest Chow she'd ever met. But it wasn’t until later in her life that we discovered her disgust for indiscrete, small dogs. We used to think it was only small dogs she despised until she befriended Lucky, a Bischon Frise with attitude at the barn Blue Cloud. She loved Lucky and we realized it wasn’t the size but what they were SAYING to taunt her.  Considering how gentle she was with people, unfortunately, we didn’t take necessary precautions, until she actually bit into a neighbor’s Bischon. The dog survived, but we felt terrible. Our trips to the dog park ended. We couldn’t take the chance that a little dog that looked like a furry appetizer would be running with the pack. Later, Keesha learned what it felt like when a huge mutt got ahold of her and was swinging her 50 pounds around by the neck. I managed to scare the beast off, but Keesha was shaken. Dogs will be dogs.

 

ME TOO!
One day I was practicing yoga at home. I was arched in a standing back bend when I felt a presence behind me. I turned to see Keesha on the back of my mat sitting up as though begging for food. She had never done that in her life. She held the pose as I stared at her. Funny dog! She looked like she was praying. Keesha learned to roll over and play dead but not even hunks of turkey could get her to fetch. She just didn’t see the point. Evidently she was all Chow when it came to fetch. At lakes she would walk into the water only until her belly got wet. We decided that her bottom half was Labrador and her top half Chow.

OLD DOGS DO!

When Keesha was 12, we took Joseph’s dog, Dally, to Tenderfoot Training. When we arrived at trainers Doug and Elizabeth’s home, Keesha pawed at the car window and barked at one of their dogs. Doug said, “Get that dog out here. It’s obvious she needs training too." My tail slipped between my legs as I opened the door and brought Keesha out to join the lesson. Within five minutes Keesha was heeling happily next to Doug's shin. He recommended that I dispose of the zip line leash or use it as a clothesline, because it was useless for dogs. Gentle but sure and assertive in his actions, Doug taught me that it was a disservice to allow Keesha to be free on the line – that they needed to be working or under command 90% of the time. Dogs just don’t think and act like we do, he explained. The more I understood dogs and became her master, the less stress it put on her. I think it was the gift that extended her life. While I had taken her to clicker training, that technique has limitations. I wished I had introduced her to Tenderfoot, or something similar, years earlier, because it was an investment that created a more satisfying relationship. Over the next few weeks, as I maintained the lead Keesha resisted (like any good Chow would), eventually with persistence and practice she improved considerably and our relationship benefited.

Keesha in our Niwot yard

HOW IS IT POSSIBLE SHE DIDN’T GET GAS?
While Doug's 10 or so dogs will leave a plate of food untouched on the coffee table, I was not as talented. When I left the kitchen briefly, I returned to find all of the deviled eggs gone off of a platter that seemed well out of Keesha's reach. Evidently she possessed a giraffe’s tongue! She realized that spinning a plate revealed more goodies on the other side. But how did she get to the middle? Some questions remain unanswered. Once she snuck enough dark chocolate out of a guest's purse to warrant a trip to emergency vet for a stomach pump. I learned that 2 Tablespoons of hydrogen peroxide could induce vomiting, and I was required to use that trick a couple of other times when she got into potentially toxic foods.

12 LIVES AT LEAST

In competition with the cats to prove she had more than nine lives, she recovered from a liver ailment that I was sure would knock her out. There is no preparation for death, but I got some practice at mourning. We said good-bye at least three times before her actual death. Dr. Takahashi could not believe that she was 16 ½ when we put her down. She died without any sign of dementia, although she had gone deaf. She watched me like a hawk for signs of what was going on around and adapted to hearing loss. I used hand signals to get her to stay or wait to eat her dinner until I signaled.

She loved her Pet Futon

TIME TO GO
Yesterday Keesha struggled up from the floor when she saw me come out in my tennis shoes, which she equated with taking a walk. We were down to going around the block until about two months ago when she began to show difficulty with even that. She still liked to be taken across the street to the park to gnaw on grass stalks and sniff around. So, before my run, I lifted her down the three front steps and she hobbled to the park. I lured her home with a cheese cookie made by PC Pantry, local bakers of doggie treats.

We have been working with animal communicator, JoLee Wingerson, of Spirit Whispering, for a decade. When the girls were young and would scream at each other in some sibling dispute, Keesha would quake in terror as though one of them were sure to kill the other. JoLee was able to let Keesha know that it was not a life or death matter, and Keesha’s anxiety dissipated almost completely. JoLee helped us bring two new cats onto the scene when our older kitties died. JoLee explained that Keesha (who would quake at the sight of the cats) might attack not because they were small and furry but because the kittens were in cahoots, sending her images that they would gang up like panthers and kill her. With the issue resolved all three immediately integrated and became friends, although Keesha would startle if one of the cats jumped over her. JoLee helped me determine how to understand when Keesha was ready to leave this planet. Evidently she was having some issues letting go because she wanted to be around until Liz left home in another year. She was worried about deserting Liz. No wonder she was rotting from the outside in, with huge sores that were not healing because she was too old to be around. Finally she was ready to go, and I called our kind veterinarian and scheduled for in-home euthanasia that would be assisted by Dr. Irene's husband, Eric.

Liz offers some healing touch

CEREMONY

The morning of her euthanasia, it was overcast and cool. After many days of 90-degree heat, the gray skies were appropriate for a somber, evening occasion. After performing a Native American blessing – smudging her with sage smoke and an owl feather – I let her know that was the day she would transition. She dropped down to the floor and slept five hours as if relieved. When she woke I gave her turkey slices and convinced her to stroll around the back yard. We lay in the kitchen forehead-to-forehead and napped. The girls and I told her stories about our past together. Our young cats, Toby and Pablo, each took turns walking over to say good-bye.

GOOD ADVICE

Bella gives her a kiss to send her off

Deciding when to put down an animal is never easy. One day they are at death’s door and then next they look as if perhaps they have another six months to live. What struck me as the best advice was what I read on the website of local pet hospice, Home to Heaven: Better a month too early than an hour too late. I have witnessed horrible deaths with both my cat Sufi, who suffered screaming all the way to Dr. Takahashi’s when a blood clot painfully disabled her back legs, and also when Bella’s horse Savahna collicked and suffered terrible pain before being put down in a field on a 25 degree night this past winter. I wanted Keesha to die with dignity, still able to walk (if barely). It was only a matter of time before the cancer apparent in growths all over her body would disable an organ. And so the time had come.

GOOD-BYE

She climbed on top of her favorite green bed as though it would be a raft to transport her to the other side, and Dr. Takahashi injected her with a sedative. Liz offered her some Reiki healing touch. The three of us cooed to her, telling her how much we loved her, our hero, our mama, and we stroked her soft head. I remembered the first time I saw those intelligent eyes looking deeply into mine, and I felt at one with her, one mind, and we could never be parted. Death was no boundary for us. As she was given the shot that would put her out, I cupped her muzzle in my hands and buried my face into the fur on top of her head, kissing her and telling her it would be all right.

METAMORPHISIS

She died peacefully. We will never forget you sweet Keesha. You will be right here with us always. We went through so much together and you lived with us in five homes. Days after her parting, the way I feel her presence is unusual. In yoga I imagined my hands were turning into paws. I felt her coat encompass me and her breath moving through me. Perhaps when things are hardest, she will be with me by becoming one with me so that I don’t have to handle the trials of life alone.