Long ago, in my younger years, before my HUMAN child, I wanted a dog of my own. My family always had dogs, but I wanted a dog that was mine. I didn't know what breed I wanted, til one day walking around my neighborhood, as I usually did, I came across the most beautiful dog I had ever seen. It was a young dog, not more than six months old. She was snow white, with silver and black across her back. I wanted her, BAD. Now, I knew every dog within a 3 mile radious of my house, and despite warning signs I could touch them all. My connection with the animal world was not the norm. And no matter how many strays I came across I was never so inclined to bring them home and BEG my parents to keep them, until now. I immediately walked up to her, pet her, and checked her for ticks. Like I said my connection was not the norm. And I walked away, to see if my new friend wanted ME too. As I walked homeward, occasionally looking back, she progressively got closer and closer, until she was finally walking beside me step for step.
When I got home, my mother was outside in the front yard. She knew I had been out on my daily animal walk, and saw that today there was somthing different. My mother noted the beautiful dog walking beside me, and said "Why this one?" I guess she figured that eventually this scenerio would happen, as everyday when I returend from my walk I would share ALL the detial of new animals I had encountered. But never brought any of them home, until today. My mother noted that she appeared to be healthy, young and well mannered, all the while I am mentally checking of the good signs of me being able to keep her. My mother the cool cucumber that she was, knowing what I wanted, and what words I wanted to hear, said nothing. So I played with the beautiful white dog, now knowing that it is a Siberian Husky, ALL day long. I had fed her some dog food, gave her a treat or two, or more, our old German Shepard, Boo, wouldn't notice anyway. Then my father came home.
He noticed my new friend, and cassually said " Who's your new friend?" And I told him, It is a young, well mannered, healthy looking, Siberian Husky Daddy. "Where's your mother?" he asked, "Inside", I said, and in the house he went without another word.
I marveled at the fact that in a few short hours I managed to teach "Snowy" the siberian Husky, how to sit, beg roll over and very gently take a treat from my mouth. I assumed my parents were discussing my new friend and how to handle the emotions of their soon to be disappointed child, then having reached the proper and humane strategy, came outside to delicately break my heart.
My dad said she had a collar so that means she belongs to someone, so I was allowed my tearful good byes and he drove MY Snowy to the pound. From that day on I vowed that MY First dog would be a HUSKY!
Having graduated High school and moved with my parents to Maine, working regularly, and my parents in the market for a girlfriend or companion for our epileptic White greman Shepard, Kimo, I went to the local shelter, to aid in the search, all the while having my own agenda.
It was near closing time and not much time to look, I breezed through the inner building, No inhabitants seemed appropriate for our Kimo, so I began to leave. As I walked to my car, I asked the worker do you ever get in Huskies? And just then I heard a distinctful Husky howl. I turned and saw MY dog. Three days later I picked up my dog, she had to be cleared by the in house vet and all, before I could take her home. After having seen her tied to a chain outside the shelter, playing in the snow, I vowed that if my parents don't get her I WILL. And I repeated that exact same statement to my parents. No discussion, no bargin, no exceptions. I reminded them of Snowy, all those years ago, and seeing the unwavering conviction in my face and tone, they did not oppose.
I adopted my Runa December 8 1995, she was my first child, my truest friend, and living light, she is the star of my book, and a princess in her own right. I still believe that her adoption fee of $25.00 was the most sound investment I ever made. For nearly 16 years of love, companionship, laughs and inspiration, she was priceless. On May 23 2011 My Runa became fatally ill when her stomach flipped. Due to her old age, doggie dementia, and my agony of letting her go until She gave me a sign that she was ready to go, I knew surgery was not an option. I waited for a sign and in loud and unmistakable fashion, she gave me the humane hint I needed, to be unselfish and let her go. She was not a dog at all, she was my dream come true, my literary muse. Because of her life and my experiences while her at my side, I started an animal charity in her honor Runa's R.A.C.E Fund. So no family has to say good bye to their furry or feathered children, when a simple treatment or surgery can save them.
And it all started with a dog.