My precious memory of holding
Quinn, slimy and squirming
Mewling his tiny cries of hunger
From his adorable trust
With eyes welded shut to his
First glances at a big strange world
He held my heart in a grip
His tiny razor teeth relentless
Gnawing on fingers and treasures
His first unsteady steps
Yips and yaps with a silly smile
Siberian Husky puppies
Are the crack cocaine of canines
Weaving a sorcery, trapping your heart
His goofy adolescence powered
By a resistance to obey
Undeniable and hard to argue
Sitting for two seconds on command
The hard years came too soon for him
New knees and a long recovery
Deaths, his daddy-alpha, Mukki
Followed by his sweetheart, my bestie, Tala
Arthritis in his new joints made him cry
His mother Lulu became sweetness in senility
Forgetting the early years of trauma
And bonding with her rescuers at the end.
She was ready and I held her in my lap
Quinn sat near with his back touching her
He gave her a final look when we left
We grieved her together, he missed her more
A welcome baby human filled his void
He became her protector and she tortured
Him with love kisses and body slams
I had long talks with him these last few months
Arguing both sides of letting him go as he listened
In a narcotic haze, he wagged his tail and whined
I held him, head in my lap, and cried
He was calm and seemed to welcome
The first injection, a pinch then no pain
He devoured the forbidden chocolate and bacon
I did not feel him leave like I had the others
I could not stop crying and missed the moment
I felt like I’d lost a child, I’d kept him in pain too long
To spare myself this pain. My baby was a very old man.
How I miss him. I cry for all my losses,
both human and canine hold places in my memory
But Quinn holds my heart hostage and
The lessening grip makes me cry more.
I have been putting off writing this because it was hard and I kept getting weepy.
LuLu formerly Freckles, Mother to Sharpie and Quinn 2003 – 2020
The summer of 2008 was a the heart-wrenching time for rescuers in North Carolina. I am not a rescuer but was mom to two beautiful Siberian Huskies we got from Southern Siberian Rescue, Mukki and Tala. We’d just moved into a new home and had a large 100 x 75 foot area contained for them with a 6 foot high chain link fence. We had barely settled in when we got the call to help by fostering a couple of Sibes from a Denver, NC rescue. I was hesitant to foster because I knew we’d fall in love and not be able to give them up.My husband felt the same way. We didn’t discuss it much, other than accepting the fact we might have to ‘grow up’.
“Well, try to get two we will want to keep. We are not adult enough to not fall in love.” said my husband that morning. Red ones I thought, I’d always wanted a red husky.
The Sheriff had acquired an empty Walmart and it was full of trailer loads of pet food and supplies from all over the country. On entering, I was stunned and humbled by what I saw. Over one hundred chihuahuas, hundreds of cats, a horse, a llama, thirty five Siberian huskies and more small animals. Over four hundred animals kept on two acres and most in the house. The more we heard the sadder it became -they’d had children who were being home schooled but the only reading material was an out of date TV guide.
“Any red huskies?” I asked quietly and with shame.
“”Yeah, two in the back, but they are older and not a cute.” My guide told me. “Now when you see the ones you want to foster, just keep them on a leash… we tried to let them all play together but they all just had sex… it was a nightmare.”
I glanced over at the lady and smiled. All heart, no dog sense. We walked by two crates apart from all the others. The tiniest Siberians I ever saw one in each crate. I asked what was up with them and pointed at the first crate. A tiny female was curled up in the back, she was filthy, you couldn’t even tell her color.
Our first Tornado in our new house
“Oh, the vet said to forget these two. We can’t get them out of the crates.” She said and pointed at the little girl, “that one has been in a crate for five years and bred non-stop. We can’t even weigh her or check her out.”
I stopped and looked at her then the dog. I sighed and looked off to the other side to the area at the two red huskies. My little voice said, make a sympathetic sound and keep walking. But, I never listen to that common sense inner voice, when the inner child is louder.
“Do you mind if I check her out?” I asked. I figured I’d at least get her out so they can look her over, I knew in my gut that the over worked vet was triaging the dogs and this one might not have a happy or long future. I might have been wrong but…
“Sure. if you want to but the vet said…”
“Yeah, I know.” I muttered. I spend the gate and saw her tense up and push herself further against the back wall. I got down on my knees and crawled inside. I sat in the opposite corner. The looked at me, I looked at her. I took the leash the woman had given me and calmly reached over and clipped it onto her ring. “Come on, let go for a walk…”
I started backing out on my knees and she followed. I tried to hand the leash to the woman, who stepped back and looked shocked. “You can walk her over there…” She said and pointed to an enclosure. I looked at the 25 pound dog who seemed to be heeling at my side. Her ears curled in like horns and her legs were abnormally short. I wonder if she was another failed attempt at breeding the golden grail of husky, the mutated miniature. I had already heard the owner had her AKC breeders license revoked years earlier. When we reached the enclosure I gave her a few commands, she sat, laid down, gave me her paw and sat near me as I tried to talk my self out of what my heart wanted to do. I reached over to pet her and she flinched and cowered. There are times you don’t need to be told what happened to a dog, you just know.
I sighed and figured that at least the rescue would find her a home and maybe, I could still bring home a red. I knew putting weight on her and getting her in shape would be a big job. When I left the enclosure, I told the lady I’d take her and she nearly cried. Then the other shoe dropped.
“And of course, her son?” The woman indicated the husky in the other cage.
I looked woefully over at the reds and said, “…of course.”
I came home with two dogs, not at all what my husband and I planned. Her son was beautiful and was eventually adopted to a young guy who went on to win awards in agility with him. My husband had name him Sharpy, which was assumed because he was so clever… no, it was because he marked a lot!
We named the female Freckles because she had a splatter of spots across her nose. I started hearing rumors and Freckles behavior had me suspicious. I sort of ‘knew’ she was pregnant. I told the vet I was feeding her 3-5 times the recommended amount of food and she’s still hungry and not gaining any weight -still a emaciated 25 pounds! He said it might just be the damage from 5 years of abuse. There were no body signs other than swollen teats. But I sort of knew. The sheriff had instructed that any pregnancies be terminated because each dog was evidence. So, the silence.
Then one a bitter sub zero freezing night in October, my sweet husband woke me at 5am “Cris, was up. I think Freckles is dying!” I asked why he thought that and he responded “She’s under the wooden bridge in the dog’s yard crying.”
I immediately sat up in full maternity mode, I told him to get the blue plastic swimming pool from the dogs yard and put it in the screen room and all it with old dog’s towels.
“So, she’ll be more comfortable dying?” He asked.
I gave him my ‘look’ and bit my tongue. “Sweetie, she’s going to have puppies.”
If you look at the photos on her page you’ll see the adventure. Her poor little body could only keep one puppy growing, and voilá, The Mighty Quinn! She soon gained twenty five pounds and was a good mother. We ended up adopting both dogs. I renamed her LuLu, her legs were half as long as they should be due to malnutrition and being kept in a crate for 5 years. She couldn’t mush, although she wanted to and had the heart for it.
It took about ten years for her to slowly get over the skittish mistrust she had for the world. Our vet and I looked up longevity for Siberian huskies and at 16 she was close to beating the odds. Then she started failing, her legs gave out on walks, she tried to leap down stairs and her attempts ended badly but she’d struggle up and keep going. It was obvious in the summer that she wouldn’t make it. Normally, we might have let her go a bit longer but we were heading to Florida for 4-6 weeks for the birth of our daughter. The mind numbing heat in July in Florida was not something we thought 2 Siberians should endure. And the pandemic made finding a vet tricky. So we decided to leave the dogs with my MIL and BIL agreed to bring Lulu to the vet if she got worse. Eventually, we realized we needed to be there to say goodbye and to spend at least a week with Quinn before we left.
Quinn handled everything better than we did. We took the dogs to the beach and Lulu was barely able to walk. She’d rally and seem okay but it only lasted minutes. I sat on the beach with her and explained everything. Rich and Quinn walked. The drive to the vet was hard.
Our vet has a comfortable room for this situation with sofa and dog beds. It has a separate entrance and exit so you do not have to use the waiting room. I sat on the floor with Lulu and held her as they gave her a sedative. Quinn turned his back on us and sat with Rich. Lulu rested her head in my lap and I talked to her as she got sleepy, when we were ready, we hit a call button and the doctor came in and gave her an injection. She drifted off. We cried, Quinn ate dog cookies. When we were read to leave, he went up to her and sniffed her. He tilted his head and turned away and walked out. The vet said this was very normal behavior.
We took Quinn home and we all had a good cry. We kept wondering if we should have waited but we reminded ourselves of the morning tumble she took in the parking lot. Quinn got a lot of love from the MIL while we were gone and the baby seems to be his new mission. He guards her and gives her big kisses. She giggles when she sees him. I still miss Lulu, we’d gotten quite close during the last year.
We’ve been driving back and forth to Wilmington NC for several years, it’s a four hour drive that feels like eight with Quinn panting and drooling on your shoulder. We are starting a family and we didn’t want to raise our daughter where we were living, so we decided to take the leap and move to the coast.
Walks on the beach, sea gulls and crabs… Quinn and Lulu love it here. Summers don’t bother them, they think one air conditioned house is as good as another to sleep in.
Lulu napping
We weren’t sure Lulu could handle the move -she is after all, over 16 years old!!! But we went to a new vet to discuss sending her over the rainbow bridge only to learn she is in great shape and should respond well to pain meds for arthritis – wow, night and day, she act like a puppy! We found a lovely home in a gated marina community and it seems everyone has a dog and everyone is very friendly. We back onto a pond with a small dock that Quinn declared his own. I was stopped today by a neighbor who lives ‘across the pond’ and enjoys watching Quinn sitting sphinx-like on the dock.
We are looking forward to many happy years here and Lulu intends on living forever 🙂
Originally posted on mamaofmyaandmeeko: We recently went through surviving Hurricane Florence. I say “surviving” with a snicker to myself with sincere consideration that others did survive through much worse. Not much touched on down on our area of South Carolina…
Lulu is now over 15 and Quinn just over 10 years old!
Tala and Mukki are long gone and still missed. Our world has definitely changed. No one sleeps in the bed with us, Quinn and Lulu sleep together on the back porch or on dog beds in the living room. They honestly prefer each other’s company over us and we try to not take it too personally but really! Quinn likes a good back scratching and Lulu will tolerate her head rubs but these are not dogs who enjoy a snuggle.
Like all the elderly and retired, they prefer the beach -we visit family in Wilmington and the dogs love it so much when we try to go home -they try to hide!
I recently watched a Brit video on why foxes make poor pets. It took me no time at all to realize they were describing Lulu to a T and with her short little legs, she even walks like a fox. She might allow us one pat on her head a day but often that is asking for too much. She’ll take food from our hands but runs away as fast as she can. She does hang out with me –in the morning she lies in front of my office door and groans getting up to move out of my way if I try to leave. I’m pretty sure she is there because I often give her a saucer of milk when I make my coffee. But, lately she’s been sleeping late, so my coffee is long gone before she appears in the doorway. Continue reading →
Another hot muggy morning in North Carolina, where we wake to carnage… Quinn keeps coming inside to bark at me. He wants me to fix his new friend who won’t play with him anymore… sigh… If you are considering a Siberian Husky as a pet, can I point out they are ‘Prey Driven’ beasts -like a cat with a mouse, they have a natural instinct that is not protecting your home or defending your virtues. Get used to it or choose another breed. Poor baby o’possum. Continue reading →
I have put off writing this post for a long time, well for two months. Tala passed away on April 28th, 2016. I thought losing Mukki last year was hard, losing Tala damaged my soul. We fought like hell to find out what was wrong but she failed fast. The vet decided to do some aggressive testing which came up negative, then she called to tell me that we needed to put her down, she was suffering. Continue reading →
Where is Tala? Is probably something I say more than anything over the past eight years. She loves to hide. When she was young, that included under the beds but as her girth spread, so did her skills at hiding. For a dog that sleeps most of the day and snores really loudly, you’d think finding her would be easy! No, not so much. And she loves to hide. She smiles and tilts her head coquettishly when she is eventually found.
This morning I searched for a half hour and was getting worried. Where can a 75 pound husky hide? I was beginning to suspect her of changing her hiding place as I searched the downstairs, upstairs, screen room, deck and back yard. No doors or gates were open, so I finally got the husband out of the shower to search.
As he dripped and I explained, we walked into the hall and she bounded through the doggy door grinning… well, played Tala -she must have been moving around behind the doghouse as I searched the yard.
There are days when Tala just never leaves her sanctuary! Today was one of those days but at 10pm tonight she wanted to play, now an hour later she is under my desk asleep on my feet!
I recently watched a Brit video on why foxes make poor pets. It took me no time at all to realize they were describing Lulu to a T and with her short little legs, she even walks like a fox. She might allow us one pat on her head a day but often that is asking for too much. She’ll take food from our hands but runs away as fast as she can. She does hang out with me –in the morning she lies in front of my office door and groans getting up to move out of my way if I try to leave. I’m pretty sure she is there because I often give her a saucer of milk when I make my coffee. But, lately she’s been sleeping late, so my coffee is long gone before she appears in the doorway. 
I have put off writing this post for a long time, well for two months. Tala passed away on April 28th, 2016. I thought losing Mukki last year was hard, losing Tala damaged my soul. We fought like hell to find out what was wrong but she failed fast. The vet decided to do some aggressive testing which came up negative, then she called to tell me that we needed to put her down, she was suffering. 
My Mad Siberian Gulag 