Guardian: Russian Wolf

20 May 1991 - 18 Aug 2006

Bear was a surprise gift from her mother Thordyss ap varg Snos, a full-blooded Siberian Husky, and something that went bump in the night. My wife and I had not even been aware that Thordyss was pregnant! As it turned out, that's not so surprising, as Bear was the only pup.

My wife had come home early from work one day to find both our dogs, Valeria and Thordyss, scratching at a cedar chest in the hallway. Tiny whines were coming from beneath the chest. My wife shooed the dogs away and looked under the chest to find a still-wet puppy! She got the pup out and found that in place of her tail and right rear leg were tiny stumps oozing blood. She immediately rushed the pup to the nearest vet (less than half a mile away), who did a beautiful job of cleaning up the stumps and repairing them. The vet actually offered her a choice between euthanasia and repair; as far as my wife was concerned (and I, when I found out later) it was a no-brainer.

When she returned home with the pup, Thordyss wanted nothing to do with her. This isn't uncommon in a first-time canine mother, especially with single- or very small litters. So it was up to me to raise the little pup. She slept in a box with a blanket by the bed, and I woke to bottle-feed her every 3 or 4 hours. She went to work with me; luckily for him, my supervisor was a dog-lover who had known me for many years before this. She was a very demanding pup with a strident cry, but once she was settled into my arms and started on her bottle, she quieted right down and was quite happy. A couple of days after she was born, as I was feeding her one night, I was talking to my daughter on the phone. I had taken to calling the pup Baroness; in fact was considering calling her Arctic Blue Baroness, in honor of her grandfather Arctic Blue Baron, who was a champion Siberian Husky show-winner. My daughter thought this too much of a mouthful; she suggested Bear. We compromised; Arctic Blue Baroness was her official name, Bear is what we called her.

We never did know exactly how her leg and tail were lost; our theory, backed up by the vet, was that Thordyss, a first-time mother, instinctively chewed the umbilical cord to cut it; it's quite possible that in the process she accidentally got the leg and tail in her jaws and severed them as well. There was no evidence in the hallway; no even a bloodstain on the carpet! Very strange; however, it never slowed Bear-bear down a bit! True, she had an odd gait with her front legs moving just as any other dog's, and her rear humping along like a pogo-stick. However, she could quite easily outrun any of the other dogs, and she led me on more than one merry chase when she decided to go on a walkabout!

For over 15 years Bear was everything anyone could ever ask for in a companion; she was entertainment when she wanted to play, a footwarmer/lapwarmer on cold nights, protection from night-things after dark, first greeter when I came home, a supreme listener to my rantings at work and the world, and occupant of a very special room in my heart.

In the early part of August, she was slowing down. She could no longer negotiate the stairs inside or outside the house. Once I had carried her up or down them and placed her on solid ground, she could walk and run, but with nowhere near her earlier elan. She wasn't eating as she had before, and started losing weight. The vet rehydrated her and got her eating a special prescription food, but tests showed her kidneys and liver were failing. There was nothing that could be done; it was simply due to old age. She was, after all, over 100 in human terms. I was told I could "keep her going" with special food and medication, though I would also have to give bolus injections of saline under her skin daily. This was, however, only buying her time; the organ damage was irreversible. When asked, the vet confirmed that we were talking about weeks only, and yes, the end would be "ugly". No way - no way - was I going to put her through that. The vet made certain she was well hydrated and released her to me; that night and all the next day Bear and I spent every moment together. I dug out every last treat and favorite food I knew of for her - including Hershey Kisses - to make this time memorable for us both.

The following afternoon we went to the vet together for the last time. As he gave Bear her release, I sang to her and told her to run find her mother, Kobuk and Val-val.

Faithful friend, fierce protector, loving companion.

I know where you are, Bear; you're on the other side of the Bridge, chewing on Kobuk's ear and romping with your many friends. In time, I'll join you. Until then, thank you so very much for making my life ever so much fuller. You are missed... so very very much.