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Elke's Story


Mazz

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It will be five years this coming June, that Elke, our first Siberian Husky, left to cross over the Rainbow Bridge.  Not a day goes by, that I don't think of Elke.  A few months after Elke passed, and we had Zoya, I decided to pen a short story about the experience with Elke.

 

Rather than put the entire story down in one post, I'm going to post a chapter every day or two, in this thread.  I hope you will enjoy reading Elke's Story.  If you've lost a Husky of your own, maybe you will be able to find some common ground in what we experienced with Elke.

 

Keep in mind, I'm not a literary writer by any stretch of the imagination.  Here is Elke's Story from the First Encounter.

 

 

The First Encounter: a story about a Husky named Elke

 

Dedication

    This brief story is dedicated to all who have admired, loved, and packed with this amazing breed we call the Siberian Husky.  It would be remiss to not recognize the doctors and staff of Walcott Family Pet Clinic in Walcott, Iowa, who gave Elke the best possible health care for over fourteen years; especially Tracy from whom we purchased Elke.  For without Tracy, Elke would not have been our Elke.

    And Deb Johnson of Snowpaws Huskies in Northern Wisconsin, from whom we are so thankful for Zoya, our current Husky.  Zoya has helped heal the heartache of losing Elke and has helped to rekindle the memories of Elke in her younger years.  And of course, my wife Sally whose bond with Elke, while tried and tested, never broke.  Finally, without question – Elke – who continues to live in our hearts and in our memories.

 

The Encounter

    It was a crisp November evening - a Thursday as I recall.  My wife Sally had been hinting, she wanted a Siberian Husky.  We already had a Cairn Terrier, Katie, and a West Highland White Terrier, Skipper, in the family mix.  However, those hints were really strong, and my wife's birthday was close at hand.

    When I got home from work that November evening, I looked at the classifieds in the paper for Siberian Huskies.  There were several ads, but for some reason, this one ad stood out.  Perhaps it was due to its brevity, or may have been that the seller was in a nearby town, rather than a nearby state.  Quickly, I dialed the number and a man answered.  I asked about the Siberian Husky pups for sale.  But he gave me a number for a local veterinarian's office where his wife Tracy  worked, and suggested I call there.

    So I called the office and Tracy picked up the phone.  She answered my questions, gave me directions to her farm, and we agreed to visit after dinner that night.

    So, after dinner, we hurriedly grabbed our coats, jumped in the truck, and started out the drive to visit the farm where we would first meet Elke.  Of course, neither we nor Elke, knew that was going to be her name, nor did any of us know, if it would be Elke or some other sibling of hers that would become a member of our family - if at all.

    We arrived at the farm to a greeting committee of several dogs, only two of which were Siberian Huskies.  Elke's mom and pop we assumed.  Tracy came out of the house upon hearing the barking, and met us as we got out of the truck.  We introduced ourselves, chatted for a bit, and then she took us to a shed.  Inside the shed was a collection of soft, furry, bent-ear, tail-wagging Siberian Husky puppies.

    There was this red and white female with a liver-colored nose, that struck me.  It was her eyes . . . one blue the other amber.  Two different colored eyes looking at me seemed odd.  Elke probably thought I was the oddest thing she had ever seen as well.  Her markings otherwise, were beautiful, especially her mask.

    Sally took her in her arms, and was immediately met with a soft wet tongue, followed by a bath of puppy breath.  There's nothing in this world of ours, quite like puppy breath.  At that instant, the bond between the two of them was created - never to be broken.

    So it was decided, Elke would be the one.  Although Elke, was still not Elke, not yet anyway.  A name was important, and we needed to figure this out.  We had a few days.  I paid Tracy for Elke, and she agreed to bring the pup with her to the veterinary office on Saturday, and we would pick Elke up there and take her home.

    So the ride home that night from the farm, involved throwing out potential names.  Elke was one of the last tossed out, and for some reason, it was the name we chose.

 

More in a day or two. . . .

 

 

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OK, here's chapter two.

The First Night

Saturday morning arrived! It was a bright, sunny, and very cold day. We were excited. Elke, the name we had chosen for her, was coming home today! The veterinarian’s office was about ten miles from our home. That was the longest ten-mile drive I think I’ve ever made. We just could not get there quick enough. Once we arrived, we entered into the metal building, and were greeted by Tracy.

We waited while Tracy went into the back area of the clinic. She came out with Elke in her arms. I don’t know if Elke remembered us from a few nights earlier, but she perked up as she saw Sally. Elke was handed over to Sally and hugs and kisses ensued. While there, we had Elke checked over by one of the veterinarians, made sure she had all her shots up to date, and then we were given that stuff nobody tells new puppy owners about until after they have taken possession - wormer.

“Give this to her once every five days for three doses. Then bring in a stool sample.†What? We have a “brand new†puppy, and already she’s sick? She has worms? What kind of worms? Where did she get these worms? Is she going to be

OK? Of course, these were not questions I asked, just questions that passed through my thoughts as everything was being explained to us.

We left the veterinary clinic shortly after we arrived, with Elke, worms and all, calmly at rest in Sally’s arms. The challenge was not bringing Elke home, but how was this three-dog thing going to work out? Our other two dogs, the Cairn

looked like pepper and the Westie looked like salt, were female and male respectively. The two of them got along great. How was this new pack member going to fit in?

We arrived home, and carried Elke into the house. Waiting at the door were Katie and Skipper. Their tails were wagging and their ears were back. That was at least encouraging.

We set Elke down onto the floor, facing these two bookend kind of pooches. All three were about the same in physical stature. Of course, Elke would quickly outpace them in both size and weight in the weeks and months to come. Noses touched and the typical sniff inspections took place, all the while tails remained in motion. So far, so good.

Then Elke began to pick on Katie, the female Cairn, nipping her around the neck. Elke had already determined, we

suspected, that Katie was the Alpha, and Elke was going about the process of challenging for that position. Elke’s dominance

over Katie continued without any rest. Elke never bothered Skipper. For the most part, I think Elke simply ignored Skipper.

The day continued as any day would continue with a new puppy in the house. Supervising a new puppy that’s in a new environment, can be time-consuming. Elke was no different than any other puppy. She wanted to explore, to sniff,

to touch, and yes - to chew.

Throughout the day Elke had a few mishaps. These were of course, to be expected. She also spent some quality nap time, as puppies need their rest. Upon awakening, Elke was scooped up and immediately taken outside for duty call.

We had experienced enough mishaps inside for one day, thank you very much. So as we are outside with Elke, and she

assumes what I call the lineman’s position, she begins to . . . well she begins to poop! It was at that moment, we saw the evidence of what worms in a puppy were. Not a pretty site, worms or no worms, but at least we knew the wormer was doing its job.

With that out of the way, it was once again playtime. Bonding with a Husky, or any pet, is essential to establishing a solid relationship. Elke was going to be a destructive chewer, we would later find out. But for now, tug of war, fetch, roll over and pat my tummy, those were the games we played. After thirty minutes of play, it was potty time again, and then

her first meal in her new home.

Elke’s first meal at home, was probably pretty uneventful, since I cannot recall much about it, other than we put her food into a dish, and she ate it. Eating for a young puppy is like filling a balloon with water. The water is always

pushing to get out. So, after about fifteen minutes or so, we again took Elke out for potty patrol. The consistency of taking Elke out on a scheduled routine for bathroom breaks, helped establish the ground rules. Elke learned quickly that the house was not a bathroom.

As the evening grew into the total darkness of night, my bedtime grew near. Elke, however, had no plans for sleep. This was all new for her, she wanted to explore everything. As most who have brought a puppy into their

home know, the first few nights are much like a choir of howls and moans. Puppies do not like being alone, especially in the dark. To avoid this cavalcade of yips, moans, and woo-woos, my wife decided to spend the night with Elke, on the floor in the family room. And so she did.

Walking several times during the night to take Elke outside. There were no moans, no yips, no howls, although there was an

occasional woo-woo heard during the night. It was that first night at home, that Elke and my wife established a bond that would endure.

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And now for Chapter 3:

The Pack Order

With Elke’s first night out of the way, it was time to establish the pack order. Elke had already started this process the day before, when we brought her home, by nipping at Katie’s neck. However, Elke needed to understand that we were going to be the Alpha, and that we called the rules.

Of course, with Siberian Huskies, rules are something that they can easily live without. The breed is extremely focused, and yet, so easily distracted. Huskies are fairly intelligent, almost to a fault. I would not consider them to be deceitful, but they do keep secrets. And I would not consider them to be thieves, but they do steal. For example, Elke was continually hiding my socks. She’d take them out of the laundry basket, and simply put them elsewhere in the house. Some of the socks I still have not found, and probably never will.

Just so we can all understand the order of the pack, or pack order, it starts out vertical, then quickly changes to horizontal. In our pack, there is my wife. She’s the Alpha. Then there’s me, sort of like the second in command, so to speak. At this point we are still vertical as we then drop down to the dogs. By rights, Katie the Cairn should have been next

in line, then horizontally from here would be Skipper the Westie. That is how things had been before Elke’s arrival. Now that Elke was part of this pack, where exactly did she fit in?

By our perspective, she would be horizontal with Katie and Skipper. However, from Elke’s perspective, she would be higher up the chain than either of the other two. So therein was the issue. Elke was relentless in challenging Katie. She never harmed Katie, she never attacked Katie, and she never bore her teeth at Katie. Elke simply bugged Katie.

As much as we tried to intervene and correct what we thought was a problem, Elke would never stop. Not until, that is, when Katie became very ill. Then I think Elke realized that things were not as they were. Katie had developed a rare blood disorder, that would soon take her life. Skipper was at a loss. His best friend and companion was not able to romp

and play any longer, and Elke was too large for him. Besides, Elke still pretty much ignored Skipper. The moment of Katie’s last breath came while at the vet clinic. It was tough for my wife and I. Katie had been our first dog together, and now she was gone. We buried Katie out under the big Willow tree in the front yard. Katie used to love to sit out there in the summer with the breeze blowing and watch the birds.

Within a year, Skipper was gone as well, from kidney failure. The pack order had now been established, and was completely vertical. Elke was at the bottom, or was she?

They say that with a Husky, you have to keep on your toes. If not, they’ll have you trained before you know it. I hate to admit it, but I did not keep on my toes as much as I should have, and yes, Elke indeed trained me to a certain degree. Well actually, Elke trained me beyond a certain degree. She trained me to the hilt! I must have “sucker†written on my forehead in dog-speak, because what Elke wanted, Elke got.

My wife Sally, on the other hand, was the disciplinarian, and she had full control of Elke. Elke did not get everything she wanted from Sally, just because she wanted it. Elke had to earn her rewards with Sally. And Elke knew that. That is why Elke respected Sally, and why Elke merely tolerated me. Not a good pack order to say the least. It took time and work to refocus the order of the pack.

It’s important to realize that dogs are creatures of habit, just like humans. However, dogs adapt more quickly to their environment than we do. And so, they are quick to capitalize on opportunities that come their way. They work the system, bend the rules, push the envelope. If we are not aware of this going into the relationship with our pets, we find out eventually, that we have been duped. Oh, how I was duped.

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And now for Chapter four . . . .

 

The Trusted Member


Elke was about four years old, before we could really trust her to be alone in the house for brief periods. In her earlier years, Elke had managed to destroy several household and personal items. Shoes were the big target, in terms of quantity. A recliner was the big target, in terms of size. Did you know that Flexsteel makes very good furniture.  I did not realize how well their chairs are constructed, until Elke dismantled one. Only then did I learn there are actual pieces of steel used in the support areas of Flexsteel chairs. No wonder they hold up so well – under normal use.


There were also other items such as belts, towels, bed comforters, kitchen utensils, books, magazines, and various other items. Some of the items Elke took upon herself to chew were never to be found. Some were found, punctured, torn, and otherwise fully mutilated.  She would so delicately, and without notice, remove a magazine off a table and quickly transcend to a remote part of the room, out of sight. Moments later, in her excitement to rip and tear, you would finally hear the remnants of her work and realize, there goes this month’s National Geographic.


When we had to leave the house, for any reason, we had to either take Elke with us or put her in a kennel in the basement. Since we could not always take Elke with, she often was escorted to the "kennel". This kennel was actually a stairway alcove off the laundry room. We simply installed a four foot high chainlink gate across the opening, and there was Elke’s kennel. This was also her sleeping quarters for those first few years. We had tried letting her sleep in our room at night, but she wandered, got into mischief, and really did not sleep much.  We, however, did sleep and would awaken to noises of Elke getting into trouble, or we’d hear her quick pacing through the hall, indicating there was a warm pile awaiting cleanup.  Elke was not very good at letting us know that she had to go out, unless we were awake. So, after a few bad nights, we decided the kennel was the best place.

 

The kennel worked. Elke, after a few minutes of protest, would settle down and be quiet. Around sunup each day, she would start to pull on the gate with her mouth, bark, and whimper. She had to go out. This was really working well. She slept all night, would wake us up when she needed to go out, and she was not able to destroy anything, because she was confined to her kennel.  At this point, Elke was almost a year old. Still, she was fairly vim and vigor-filled. She was really coming into her adult appearance, having lost the puppy-look. We continued to use the kennel for her evening sleep time, and during the days when we were at work, or had to go to the store.


Elke seemed to go along with this arrangement quite nicely. Until one day, we had been at the grocery store, and came home to the sound of high pitched yelps coming from – where else – the kennel. I ran downstairs to find Elke had climbed the chainlink gate, and was straddled atop the gate, fearful to jump down and using all her stamina to remain balanced atop that narrow gate. I wrapped a blanket around her, lifted her off the top of the gate, and laid her down onto the floor. She was exhausted.


I checked her for any cuts or scrapes, and inspected the gate for any damage. Aha! Before climbing the gate, she must have tried to rip the chainlink off the frame, as it was pulled back from the corner. I also checked her mouth then, and noticed she had worn grooves into the backs of her canine teeth, from pulling on the chainlink.  A taller gate was installed, that would not enable her to climb. Reinforced clamps were used to retain the chainlink to the frame. And that resolved both the climbing and pulling issues.


Over time, when Elke was between two and three, we were able to let her have complete run of the house while we were gone for an hour or two. She was also able to sleep at night, outside of the kennel, in our bedroom. During long stays from the house, that would last more than two hours, the kennel was still used. That seemed to be the safest thing to do. We were fairly sure the gate was no longer an issue, and we felt comfortable leaving Elke in the kennel when needed.


As Elke continued to mature, she became more and more gentle in her approach to many things. She was never aggressive and was always a sweet, sweet pack member. She had such drive and stamina though. She would go full bore when it came to chasing a ball, jump as high as she could when butterflies were near, and she still was that way, it’s just that not as many things triggered a reaction in Elke. She had experienced those things, and knew what they were, and it was "been there – done that" with her.


When Elke was around seven years old, she no longer had to go to the kennel if we left the house. She was able to have full reign of the house for the entire day. It was sort of a risky experiment on our part. We noticed Elke had calmed down considerably from a few years previous, and so one day, we decided to take the chance. We left Elke alone in the house for an entire day. As I got home from work that day, I was of course, a bit nervous as to what I would find. Would the furniture be intact? Would the bed linens still be on the beds? Would Sally’s shoes, still be Sally’s shoes?


I walked in through the garage, and there sat Elke, waiting. Our eyes met, and she immediately stood on all four, tail wagging, and woo-wooing. At last, Elke had become a trusted member of the pack.

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Two chapters today, five and six - both are short.

The Communicator

My wife works in the television industry. I’m a technical writer by profession. Our son has a degree in journalism and one in media arts. All of us are involved in the field of communication, in some fashion. Well, so was Elke.

When Elke was hungry, she would first get your attention, quickly side step and swing her nose from pointing directly at you, to pointing to the food bag; then she’d follow her nose and touch the food bag. When Elke was thirsty, she would do the same thing, but point to the water bowl, follow her nose and touch the water bowl. When it was time to go out, Elke would again go through the same routine, point to the door, then follow her nose and touch the door.

The closest thing that we humans do to this is play the game call charades. But this was not charades. There was never any question in my mind, or anybody’s mind, what Elke wanted. There was never any guess work. She was clear, precise, and specific in her communications to us. I had never had a dog that could so clearly define what was on their mind, as Elke could.

Elke was always ready to let you know what she wanted, and when she wanted it, which was usually NOW! She was relentless. If you did not respond the first time she communicated her wants, she would communicate them again, and again, and again. Until finally, you responded in the fashion she expected. Some would perhaps have coined Elke a spoiled dog. Others would have thought her to be controlling. We thought of Elke as The Communicator.

The Escape Artist

If you’ve ever had a Siberian Husky, or have read in depth about the breed, you know that they are extremely adept at escaping. Some refer to Siberians as the Houdini of dogs. Fences, doors, gates, you name it, these are not considered as confinements by a Siberian Husky, but rather as challenges – challenges to be overcome. I mentioned earlier about Elke climbing the chainlink gate to her kennel in the basement. Had that gate been outside, or had there been a chainlink fence outside, Elke would have scaled it without issue. Jumping a five foot fence was a breeze for Elke. She never did jump the fence from the back yard to the front, but she did jump the fence from the mowed portion to the wild portion of the back yard.

Digging is another approach if jumping or climbing are out of the picture. Elke was not much of a digger in her later years, but in her prime, digging was where it was at. She never dug under the fence, but dug along the fence several times.

Vigilance was the key to preventing her from making it to the other side. Elke was very keen, however, on noticing any fence boards that were loose or off kilter in any way. Several times, we caught her pulling a fence board off the fence, opening a way out. Luckily, she never completed those tasks, but had she done so, she would have been gone.

Open any door, and if Elke was behind me, she soon was out in front of me and on her way out through the door. Several times she got through open doors. The saving grace to capture her was to jump in the truck, drive to where she was nearby, open the door, and offer her a ride. She absolutely loved to ride in the truck – and into the truck Elke would jump.

Escape was always a concern with Elke, especially in her early years. Keeping her occupied, keeping a close watch on her, and keeping her well exercised were the elements we used to prevent her from jumping the fence.

We could never let Elke off leash outside the house or outside of the back yard. If we had, she’d be gone in a heartbeat. It’s not that Elke did not like her home life, or that she found us to be undesirable as her pack, but the instinct within a Husky to run is so strong, they can hardly resist the temptation. And so while Elke was an escape artist, we always had to keep one, or sometimes two, steps ahead of her.

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And now, Chapter 7.

The Huntress

Without hesitation, if a rabbit was in the back yard, Elke ould immediately switch into stalk mode. We sat out in theback yard one time, watching her and a rabbit. The rabbit was fully aware of Elke’s presence. Of course, Elke must have thought she was in stealth mode and could not be seen by the rabbit. Even at that, Elke would move at such a motionless rate, that if you blinked, you’d not see her pick up a leg. All you’d notice is her leg that a second earlier was planted on the ground, was now several inches above the ground, and motionless. Blink again, and that same leg was now once more, planted firmly on the ground.

Elke stalked that rabbit for almost fifteen minutes, moving ever so slowly and getting closer to the rabbit by about ten feet. Then, all of a sudden, without any indication, Elke bolted directly for the rabbit. That rabbit took two leaps and disappeared into the brush, probably laughing all the way down the hill.

Elke would rush back and forth, sniffing the ground for clues, finally returning to a high point in the back yard. It was there, she would start the process of seeking out another rabbit.

NOTE: For those with a weak stomach, perhaps the next two paragraphs should be skipped.

When Elke was about five years old, she killed her first racoon. It was amazing to watch how she approached the racoon, and how she attacked. Sitting up on the deck, one early evening, she noticed some movement coming out of the lower portion of the back yard. I was on the deck reading when all of a sudden, Elke raised up to all four. She quickly and quietly got down onto the grass. As the racoon walked across the yard, Elke waited for just the right moment. She then took off running at full speed, not toward the racoon to intercept it from the front, but toward the racoon to nip it in the hind quarters.

The racoon had no idea what had just happened as it spun around. By this time, Elke was running circles around the racoon. As she did, the racoon continually turned to keep facing Elke. It did not take long and the racoon began to display symptoms of dizziness. Elke made her move and bit down on the lower back and pelvis area of the racoon, breaking its back. At this point, the racoon was defenseless. Elke picked up the racoon and shook it with reckless abandon, tossed it into the air, only to pick it up and repeat the process. My responsibility was now to put the racoon out of its misery. Over the years, Elke managed to deplete the racoon population by some ten or twelve racoons. Not once did she suffer any injuries from these encounters.

Moles, did we have moles. Elke was an effective mole eliminator though. She would dig up these earth borers, with accuracy and determination. Oh we had ruts in the back yard,

but eventually, we had no more moles. Elke would always want to show off her trophies upon capture. Getting her to drop these so-called trophies was always a challenge, but offering her something more tasty seemed to do the trick.

In the fall, deer would enter the back yard, especially at dusk. Elke always looked upon these large and beautiful animals as something to try and catch. She would stalk them as she did rabbits, but seemed to get anxious and began the chase rather quickly. The deer would always be gone before Elke reached their spot.

Winter time brought snow. The back yard would be cris-crossed with little snow tunnels made by field mice. Elke would sniff along these tunnels, stop, raise up on her hind legs, and pounce with both front feet into the tunnel. Then her nose would dive in, root around, and inevitably, Elke would come up with a mouse in her mouth. I don’t know if

Elke liked eating mice, though she ate her share of them.

One evening, Elke was outside in the back yard. We heard these awful cat-like screeches along with Elke’s barks. Elke did not bark very often, and usually was rather excited when she did bark. My wife rushed out to see Elke jumping up to a Bob Cat perched atop the fence. The Bob Cat was hissing and swiping. One of the swipes caught Elke across the top of her nose as Sally called out to Elke. At the same instance, Elke turned to look at Sally, and the Bob Cat disappeared on the other side of the fence. Elke had suffered

a laceration across the top of her muzzle. It was bleeding, but was not very deep. Elke was all right with it though. She had enjoyed the thrill.

No matter what anyone tells you, when a skunk and a dog meet, the dog always loses. Such was the case with Elke. She was in the back yard, it was dark and foggy, and there was this pungent musk odor lingering in the air.

There was no mistake, it was the odor of a skunk’s spray. I had noticed this same smell in the back yard before, often drifting in from the surrounding area.

I called Elke, and she came running toward me and came through the door, bringing the most irritating piercing smell with her. Oh no, Elke had been the recipient of that skunk’s spray. The family room immediately took on the odor, and as the furnace kicked in, the entire house was consumed. It was awful. We took Elke outside, and I ran into town for cans of tomato juice. Someone had told me once, that if a dog ever was sprayed by a skunk, give the dog a tomato juice bath. The problem with Elke was her thick Husky undercoat. The oil from the skunk had penetrated down into her thick fur, and the tomato juice just rolled off of her. Eventually, after several cans of tomato juice, and several hours of dealing with Elke who hated getting wet, we had things at least to a tolerable level.

Despite the skunk encounter, Elke continued to enjoy being the huntress. Although given her score card, it’s a good thing she had us to make sure she was fed properly.

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Get your tissues handy, the next chapter is The Twilight Years, and then the final chapter will be The Crossing.

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This is Chapter 8

 

The Twilight Years

Elke had always been a strong, athletic animal.  She was active, both mentally and physically.  At the age of ten, she was starting to slow, but just a little.  She could still run, and still jump, loved to go on walks.  She just did not run as far or as fast, nor did she jump as high or as often.

By the time Elke hit twelve, she no longer ran, but still jumped up onto the couch, and she still loved to go for walks.  She remained healthy, but it was obvious to us, that Elke had slowed up, and had slowed up quite a lot.

All through her life, Elke had always loved to go for rides.  We had taken her along on day trips in the past, and continued to do so in her twilight years.  Elke had always been good around crowds and other people, so we never had a problem taking her anywhere.

People were always amazed at her beauty and her gentleness.  But then they would look into her eyes and they became mesmerized by the two colors of her eyes.  I guess that's sort of what drew us to Elke when she was a puppy, that single blue eye and single amber eye.

Living in a rural area, wildlife and ticks abound.  Elke at some point in her latter years, contracted Lyme Disease.  We put her on a regimen of antibiotics and a series of vaccinations, recommended by our vet.  While we caught the disease early-on, Elke had the anti-bodies in her blood through to the end.

Whenever we took an extended vacation, we would board Elke.  When Elke was younger, it was not a concern for us.  But as Elke had entered that era of her life where life itself had become fragile, it became a concern.  We had always boarded Elke with the vet clinic.

When Elke was fourteen, we took our annual fall trip up north.  Elke was staying at the vet clinic.  One day, early in the week, Dr. Berger called me on my cell phone.  Elke was not able to stand or get up on her own.  He said she did not appear to be in pain, but did seem to be agitated by her new inability.  He suspected she had jumped in the kennel, possibly slipped, and in the process, injured her back.  We talked for some time, and it was decided we should continue our vacation, and he would keep us updated on Elke's condition.

We got home in a few days, and I went out to the vet clinic.  Elke was grounded, there was no doubt about that.  She was agitated as well.  I was able to calm her.  The decision was made to take her home, and see if we could work with her to get her to once again walk.  The staff made several recommendations on how we could support her to take her outside.

Within a week, Elke was walking.  Not fast, not nimble, but she was walking.  A few more days, and she was able to get up from a sit position.  Progress was being made.

By this time in Elke's life, she had several issues to deal with.  Arthritis was probably the most prominent.  Medications for Elke were running more per month than for most humans.  Gradually, she declined to the point where she had difficulty getting up again.  Once up on all fours, walking was possible, as long as the surface underfoot was not slippery.  Ceramic and vinyl flooring was too slippery for Elke.  Sally bought quite a few runner carpets and we had them laid down throughout the upstairs, all for the convenience and well-being of Elke.  They seemed to work fairly well.

We had to keep Elke confined to the kitchen now.  Cleaning up after her was easier, plus we had no fear of her stumbling and falling down the stairs, or into a large floor lamp, only to have it come crashing down on her now frail body.

Elke was down to around 40 pounds, from her high of 54 pounds in her prime.  Incontinence had entered into the picture, and a daily ritual around home was to clean up after Elke, then to clean up Elke.  But we did so with love and tenderness.  After all, Elke did not choose this for her twilight time.

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Here are the final two chapters of Elke's Story

 

The Crossing

The legend of the Rainbow Bridge is something that a lot of dog lovers believe in.  It's the bridge, for dogs anyway, that allows them to cross over from this life, to a new existence.  An existence where there is no pain, no suffering, and all is right and well.  I don't know if such a bridge really exists or if it is something we humans have devised to help us better understand the meaning of life and death.

All I know is, losing your pet that has become an integral part of your family, is both difficult and painful.  It is especially difficult, when by your choosing, you pick the time and the place.  Those days leading up to the final decision are also difficult.  You first wonder, how will you know when it's time?  You hope beyond hope, that the final breath will come during a period of sleep.  But it does not.  Then when you finally do make the decision, you question if it really is the right time, and if there may just be something else you could do to avert that final moment.

In Elke's case, the decision was not easy.  She had been such a wonderful dog, a spirited member of our pack, and a true friend.  But seeing her suffer was not easy either.  The quality of her life had gone downhill fast, and dramatically.  It was mid-week when I called the vet's office to make the final appointment for Elke.  Oh did I cry.  Saturday morning was the appointment.  We enjoyed the next few days with Elke as best we could.

She had been the best dog.  Oh sure, she had torn some stuff up over the years.  Made a few messes in the house, with stains on the carpet to prove it.  Hair on our clothes was a commonality that we just accepted.  If someone else had an issue with it, no big deal, we had no issue and that's all that mattered.

Saturday morning arrived.  Elke was not Elke that morning.  Even the subdued Elke was subdued.  She was very calm, very still, very lethargic.  It was a warm June morning.

I laid Elke down in the cool grass in the morning shade out in front of the house.  It was the first time I had Elke outside with no leash.  I went back in the house and watched her from the front door.  She laid motionless.  Only the rise and fall of her side as she inhaled and exhaled indicated any movement from her at all.

I placed some blankets in the back seat of the truck, picked Elke up from the cool grass, and laid her onto the blankets.  She remained still.  We took a long and indirect route to the vet clinic, wanting to give Elke one long, last ride.  About forty-five minutes after leaving our home, we arrived at the vet clinic.  Dr. Bahns came out to the truck and explained the process that Elke would undergo.  We knew, and Dr. Bahns confirmed, it was time.  I think Elke knew it was time as well.  That morning, Elke crossed over that Rainbow Bridge.


A New Chapter

The ride to the vet clinic that fateful morning, the same vet clinic where we had picked up Elke to bring her home for the first time, was not filled with the same excitement and anxiety as the trip made some fourteen years, and eight months earlier.  It was a somber ride, a tear-filled ride, a ride that I would not wish to ever, ever make again.

I think it was that morning, we both vowed to never have another dog.  The pain was too great, the loss too unbearable, the guilt so overwhelming.  As each day passed, we found things in the house that reminded us of Elke.  A tuft of Elke's hair that had escaped the vacuum cleaner, an old dog toy sitting under the sofa, her food and water bowls, still sitting in the kitchen.  All of these things and others, reminded us of Elke.  Even so, each day became a bit more palatable.  We so missed Elke, and the house was so empty without her.  Our vow to never own another dog, began to soften.

Funny how two people who have been married for a quarter century, think so much alike.  Independently, we both began to look at Web sites on Siberian Huskies.  We searched and we researched.  Finally one day, Sally found a Web site for a small breeder in Northern Wisconsin.  We looked the site over, page by page, and we were amazed at how this breeder from the Northwoods of Wisconsin, shared some of the same philosophies we did when it comes to Siberian Huskies.  We were also amazed at how strikingly beautiful her Huskies were.  Although we had made this vow, it seemed as though, we were both willing to, at some point, relinquish the thought.  But we were not in any hurry.

Sometime in mid-July, I e-mailed Snowpaws Huskies, just to inquire, you know.  A few days later, I made a phone call and talked with Deb Johnson.  We talked for maybe fifteen minutes.  Still not in any hurry to get a new Husky, just testing the waters so to speak.  Then I got an e-mail from Deb, one of her females just had a litter.  We begged off, it seemed too early for us, but we kept in contact.

Deb would e-mail me photos, I would print them off, and show them to Sally.  One Sunday morning in August, Deb sent me some photos.  I again, printed them off.  Sally was outside, so I put the photos on the kitchen counter.  Sally came in, looked at the pictures, and said, "I want a puppy."  I called Deb, picked Zoya from the photos, and mailed off the deposit.  Zoya was from an earlier litter, and had been picked by someone else.  Circumstances changed and the person could not take Zoya, so she became available.

Our annual trip to Northern Wisconsin was scheduled for late September.  We could visit and see Zoya early in the week, then pick her up on our way home.  And so it was.  We drove from the cottage we rented for the week, to Snowpaws Huskies, some 100 miles.  We arrived and Deb and Glenn were there to greet us, along with a chorus of woo-woos from the Huskies and Malamutes.  Deb handed Zoya over to Sally.  Remember that warm moist tongue and the puppy breath bath that Elke had given Sally?  Zoya was no different.  At that moment, a new bond was established.

And so a new pack member, that we had vowed we would never have, has now intertwined her spirit into our hearts.  Elke's spirit remains in our hearts, and so Zoya and Elke have become inseparable within us, each with a special place, as we begin this new chapter.

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