Saturday, September 30, 2006
Skittle Has a New Home
This is a very sad day for Carol and me, even though it is a wonderful day as well. I just got back from driving down to Cantwell to meet the father of the family in Anchorage who is adopting Skittle. Skittle isn’t an SCL dog, but is the last of three puppies that we fostered and then adopted from the Shelter last November, along with their two mothers.
Skittle, her sister Snickers, and her mom Chiclet (can you tell Carol was hungry the day she named them?) were an abuse case. The guy had several dogs when he went into a horrible depressive downspin. A couple of dogs died from starvation on their chains, and the rest were in bad shape. Chiclet was almost completely emaciated, probably a day or two from death, and her milk was dry, even though she had given birth just a few days before. She had given everything she had to the pups, who were reasonably healthy but full of lice and weak. We figure they were about 10 days old when we got them.
We took them in, along with another mother and her puppy, Chance and Siren, who were in better shape but abandoned when their human was arrested. They were the youngest puppies I’ve ever helped raise; the same for Carol. We’ve been around young puppies, but since we don’t breed dogs hadn’t raised them. It was an adventure, and all five dogs recovered and are wonderfully healthy. We still have the two moms, but Siren and Snickers found wonderful homes a few months ago. Skittle was with us all this time, up until today.
Skittle is an amazingly cool dog, albeit a bit wild. She was a house dog who continued to sleep most of the time in the area of the entry where she spent her time after she was weaned and after we moved the puppies into the house from the heated dog barn. She has been a wonderful playmate to our latest puppy rescue Yannert, who has bowed legs and is tiny at four months old. She would spend hours playing in the dog yard with other house dogs, and was just a joy to play with. I love her immensely.
But we always knew that we’d have to find a home for her. With 31 dogs, we have more than we’re comfortable with over the long term. Carol had her listed on the Home for Huskies Web site for months, and we finally made contact with a wonderful family in Anchorage: parents and two young boys. The father, Don, has run teams in Bethel, so is very familiar with huskies. Skittle is going to lead a pampered life as a house dog, getting out to skijor a lot and maybe pull one of the boys on a sled. We just couldn’t be happier with where Skittle is going.
Because the new puppy Yannert has a bit of separation anxiety that we’re working through, Carol and I couldn’t both go to take Skittle down to meet Don. So it fell to me. It turns out that Skittle is a GREAT car dog, but isn’t so great on leash (we haven’t had her on leash much). It was nice to get to spend a few more hours with her, along with my Irish Shedder Mardy who I took along because I didn’t want to be alone of the way back. We left way early because of the snow last night, and so had lots of times for walking breaks along the way.
We met Don in Cantwell, and headed off to find a place to all go for a nice walk together. (That was his suggestion, which raised my esteem of him even more.) We ended up down by the Nenana River. I was so worried that Skittle would freak with him, even though she had met him before when he came up to meet her a few weeks ago. But she warmed up to him quickly, which was such a relief to me.
After we got back to the cars and I turned over documents, food, her favorite blankey, etc., it was time for them to leave for the drive back to Anchorage. Even though I had said goodbye to her a few times that day already, I went for one last goodbye. I was such a studly stoic man guy! Yeah right. My voice cracked, and the tears came. I said my last goodbye and gave her kisses, returned in kind, although a bit soggier.
I’m so sad that Skittle is out of our lives, but overjoyed that she has found such a good, lifetime home. We are so blessed that she graced our lives. My heat has a hole in it, but there are 30 other dogs ready to jump in to fill it back up.
I love dogs. And I love Carol and what she does. I hate saying goodbye, but know that it is often good and necessary. Today was one of those days.
Skittle, her sister Snickers, and her mom Chiclet (can you tell Carol was hungry the day she named them?) were an abuse case. The guy had several dogs when he went into a horrible depressive downspin. A couple of dogs died from starvation on their chains, and the rest were in bad shape. Chiclet was almost completely emaciated, probably a day or two from death, and her milk was dry, even though she had given birth just a few days before. She had given everything she had to the pups, who were reasonably healthy but full of lice and weak. We figure they were about 10 days old when we got them.
We took them in, along with another mother and her puppy, Chance and Siren, who were in better shape but abandoned when their human was arrested. They were the youngest puppies I’ve ever helped raise; the same for Carol. We’ve been around young puppies, but since we don’t breed dogs hadn’t raised them. It was an adventure, and all five dogs recovered and are wonderfully healthy. We still have the two moms, but Siren and Snickers found wonderful homes a few months ago. Skittle was with us all this time, up until today.
Skittle is an amazingly cool dog, albeit a bit wild. She was a house dog who continued to sleep most of the time in the area of the entry where she spent her time after she was weaned and after we moved the puppies into the house from the heated dog barn. She has been a wonderful playmate to our latest puppy rescue Yannert, who has bowed legs and is tiny at four months old. She would spend hours playing in the dog yard with other house dogs, and was just a joy to play with. I love her immensely.
But we always knew that we’d have to find a home for her. With 31 dogs, we have more than we’re comfortable with over the long term. Carol had her listed on the Home for Huskies Web site for months, and we finally made contact with a wonderful family in Anchorage: parents and two young boys. The father, Don, has run teams in Bethel, so is very familiar with huskies. Skittle is going to lead a pampered life as a house dog, getting out to skijor a lot and maybe pull one of the boys on a sled. We just couldn’t be happier with where Skittle is going.
Because the new puppy Yannert has a bit of separation anxiety that we’re working through, Carol and I couldn’t both go to take Skittle down to meet Don. So it fell to me. It turns out that Skittle is a GREAT car dog, but isn’t so great on leash (we haven’t had her on leash much). It was nice to get to spend a few more hours with her, along with my Irish Shedder Mardy who I took along because I didn’t want to be alone of the way back. We left way early because of the snow last night, and so had lots of times for walking breaks along the way.
We met Don in Cantwell, and headed off to find a place to all go for a nice walk together. (That was his suggestion, which raised my esteem of him even more.) We ended up down by the Nenana River. I was so worried that Skittle would freak with him, even though she had met him before when he came up to meet her a few weeks ago. But she warmed up to him quickly, which was such a relief to me.
After we got back to the cars and I turned over documents, food, her favorite blankey, etc., it was time for them to leave for the drive back to Anchorage. Even though I had said goodbye to her a few times that day already, I went for one last goodbye. I was such a studly stoic man guy! Yeah right. My voice cracked, and the tears came. I said my last goodbye and gave her kisses, returned in kind, although a bit soggier.
I’m so sad that Skittle is out of our lives, but overjoyed that she has found such a good, lifetime home. We are so blessed that she graced our lives. My heat has a hole in it, but there are 30 other dogs ready to jump in to fill it back up.
I love dogs. And I love Carol and what she does. I hate saying goodbye, but know that it is often good and necessary. Today was one of those days.
