A little shy of nine years ago, Carl and David convinced me that we HAD to have a puppy. A Huskie. I fought the idea for a few weeks. They finally convinced me and I argued that it HAD to be a girl with blue eyes and gray/white in color. Sure, sure; they agreed; whatever I wanted. On that fateful fall day, we drove to the east side of St. Paul to visit with a private breeder. When the door opened 8 puppies ran out. Different colors and sexes, but all Huskies. Some were older than the others and some more playful. There was a girl that fit my description. In my mind she was perfect. A little standoffish, I was certain that I could win her over given time. As I watched her play, I felt this weight on my leg and looked over to see a gray/white male husky. The girls pesky brother. I looked at him with annoyance (didn't he know I had a job to do)? However, once he had my attention, he proceeded to inch closer to my face and eventually had his nose on my nose and was staring into my eyes. This boy had one eye that was 1/2 blue and 1/2 brown and the other eye was brown with a fleck of blue. Goofy thing I thought. But it was over. My new baby picked me. So began a love story between this goofy eyed husky and his new mommy. While in the parking lot of Target to purchase his food, bowls, and other supplies, we were pondering what to call this new addition to the family. A woman was walking by and overheard us. "Dakota" she suggested. It fit and it stayed. Dakota was mine and no matter who else came into his life, he was always dedicated to his mom. I taught him that when he ate, some human may want to share food with him and he learned not to bite at the hand in the food dish. I let him know that when he was tired, his mommy would carry him wherever he needed to go and I let him know that he didn't belong in any type of cage. He had that uncanny sense of knowing when I needed a kiss or his warmth laying on my feet. He scolded me after all of my trips away from home for leaving him. He got excited when he saw the camping gear come out as he knew he was in for another great adventure with me and his dad. He was an endless sense of amusement and gave me reason to smile when nothing else could. I loved him more as the years passed and the thought of losing him was never in my mind. On June 11, 2008 the world changed when Dakota collapsed at home. After rushing him to the ER vet (and thinking penicillin would do the trick), we learned that Dakota was one sick puppy. He had a fever, was not producing new blood and needed a transfusion. Worst of all, he had a mass near his lungs that was probably cancerous. When the vet gave us the grim news, it felt as though the world stopped spinning. We looked at the test results, saw the xray and still couldn't believe what we had heard. There were options. Lots of them and they all included pain. Either for Dakota or for me. After much soul searching and putting my baby's future foremost in my thought, I knew it was the right thing to do...cause myself the pain and release Dakota from his. I spent an hour on the floor with him. He was tired and didn't even want to sit up. He layed on the floor, I layed with him. He gave me a few kisses and I kept apologizing that mommy couldn't make it better. Two shots, a few minutes and he was gone. It hurt to let him go, and my comfort is in knowing that he is pain free and running in heaven - peeing on everything to mark it as his. He'll stake out a good spot and wait for me to join him and we'll go camping.
