Oh for the love of... Part two

Meet Misty.

Misty

We know we can't even begin to 'replace' Yukon who we lost two weeks ago but our surviving pet, Mr. Bentley, needs a companion and everyone from vets to friends tells us we have a relatively short window to introduce a new dog into our pack. Mr. Bentley is now ten years old and though in good health we can see the loss of Yukon has hit him just as hard as it did my wife and I. Years ago when we lost our first Husky, Tundra, the surviving one, Chinook, did the same thing as Mr. Bentley is doing now. I call it ghosting. Literally in just two weeks his coat has become noticeably more grey. Ten year old Huskies are normally starting to grey as they age and Mr. Bentley was no exception but he's now a shade lighter than just weeks ago. 

So even though we are still grieving for Yukon, we set about searching for a new pet. The decision would ultimately rest upon Mr. Bentley's approval, as it did ten years ago when we introduced him to Yukon. Chinook and Tundra, our first pair of Huskies, had been rescued through Polaris Husky Rescue in Fort Collins (Polaris seems now to have been absorbed by North Star Siberian Husky Rescue who's website seems not to be maintained or active any longer...) and our second pair, Mr. Bentley and Yukon, had also come to our home through a Husky Rescue so we knew we would be looking through either a Rescue or animal shelter for our next pet. 

Since this decision was primarily about getting Mr. Bentley a companion (Huskies seem to generally do better with another dog to play with and keep them out of trouble!), being able to introduce them in person (in dog?) was critical. Sadly, in my opinion, 'shopping' for a new pet through a rescue seems to have gone the way of all things retail - look online, find what you want, order and it will be delivered. Granted, with the rescues we contacted there is still some vetting of the new owner including reference checks to ensure a good forever home but the in person (in dog?) introduction of the actual dogs seems to have gone by the post-pandemic wayside. 

We also perused the online offerings of the local animal shelters. Pet owners will not be surprised by the massive numbers of dogs and cats ( and hamsters, chickens, rabbits etc.) in animal shelters needing homes which in my mind begs the question of why there are still so many puppy mills and (some) unscrupulous breeders churning out more pets in an already saturated market but suffice it to say there was no way we were going to add to the coffers of businesses (and yes, they are businesses) who's primary concern is turning a dollar.

Ultimately we settled on Foothills Animal Shelter as it is in our neck of the woods (one of the rescues we considered was in Oklahoma and had more than 200 huskies available - and yes, we would have made the trip for the right doggie). We had never been to Foothills Animal Shelter (FAS), though it has been around since 1976, so didn't really know what to expect. Located right off of West 6th Avenue in Golden, Colorado, FAS focuses on several communities from Golden, Wheatridge, and Westminster to Arvada, Lakewood, and Edgewater as well as the greater Jefferson County area. While not technically a no-kill facility FAS does have an impressive record of placing/reuniting pets. In 2022 FAS sheltered 8,978 pets which was up 21% from 2021. 6,033 pets were adopted (up 14%) and 2,022 pets (up 20%) were reunited with their owners. I'm getting these statistics from the FAS 2022 Annual Report which I'm sure most pet owners never look at as they're focused on the micro level of adopting or finding their lost pet. 

I'm all in favor of no-kill shelters but am pragmatic enough to realize that we don't live in a perfect world (which is news to absolutely no one) but I wanted to see how hard FAS was striving to avoid euthanizing animals. There's a somewhat cold sounding statistic called the "Live Release Rate" and Foothills number is 93%. Kudos to Foothills for at least making this number readily visible in their annual report as I could not easily find it for other local municipal shelters. Is 93% a good or bad number? Hard to say, but according to the National Database of Shelter Animal Count:

               data shows that not only are more dogs entering shelters than are leaving, the non-live outcome rate for dogs has nearly doubled (from 5.6% to 10%) when comparing Q1 2021 to Q1 2023. This means nearly twice as many dogs did not leave shelters alive during the first three months of 2023 compared to the same period in 2021.

Another plus in favor of FAS was that they do allow in person (in dog?) meetings between current and potential adoptive pets. Mr. Bentley met with two Huskies up for adoption and he (as well as my wife and I) all agreed that Misty (her shelter name was Jesse, but had only been given that name several weeks prior) was the right fit for us. She is our first female dog and I joke that Mr. Bentley and I are now definitely outnumbered gender-wise but heck, that was already the case when it was Mr. Bentley, Yukon and I as I can confirm that happy spouse does indeed make for a happy house. 

Misty is purportedly 8 years young though she is exhibiting more puppy-like traits than her age would suggest. She is clearly not ready for her canine AARP card. She was picked up in Westminster as a stray and had no collar or microchip and apparently no doggie owners came looking for her. And yes, she is spayed and will not be adding to the out of control pet population. Thankfully she is housebroken and has a gentle and loving personality. Already our hearts are opening to this new bundle of fur. As for Mr. Bentley, he seems accepting of his new canine companion though he is still getting used to her antics. They tell us it will take about a month or so but we're cautiously optimistic as we welcome Misty to her new forever home...

Misty and Mr. Bentley getting acquainted

Oh, for the love of...

Oh, for the love of... Dog. 

The trip down from the mountains was a little speedier than normal. In retirement I've admittedly become one of those dreaded drivers who actually approximates the speed limit. Not that I sit in the left lane pegging the 55 or 65 mph  while watching a line of traffic build up behind me, but I enjoy driving, which is, at least in Colorado not the same thing as enjoying driving FAST. The advantage of retirement is not being under a continual time crunch to be somewhere, ANYWHERE, other than where I actually AM so I have the luxury of being able to enjoy the drive without constantly checking my watch.

Not so last Thursday. Don't think I've ever driven the route from Leadville to Denver as fast as I did that afternoon. With apologies to all the cars and trucks I passed at an exorbitant speed I had SOMEWHERE to be and the normal two hour timeframe for getting there wasn't going to cut it. Amazingly, at least to me, is that as fast as I was going (80 mph at times) other drivers were still routinely passing me. I-70 - Mountain NASCAR - lived up to its reputation.

That SOMEWHERE I was in such a hurry to reach is generally referred to with two simple letters: E and R though on this trip the patient had paws instead of feet. My wife and I had come back from a bike ride to find Yukon, one of our two Siberian Huskies, standing in his kennel, head drooping, looking like he had had a stroke. He was wheezing and having difficulty breathing and we knew immediately something was seriously wrong. There are Vets and a Pet ER in Leadville but we made the decision to rush him down to the vets he normally sees at VRCC in Denver. 

Halfway to Denver Yukon lost control of all his bodily functions. By the time we reached the ER in Englewood they had to lift him onto the gurney. The prognosis was grim. What had been a healthy and exuberant bundle of fur that morning was at death's door suffering from aspiration pneumonia. He had a temperature of 106 degrees, organ failure, and his blood test results did not bode well for recovery. In consultation with the vet and praying that we were doing the right thing, we made the heart-wrenching decision to put our beloved Yukon to sleep. 

I clearly understand that in a world where people are dying needlessly in the hundreds, thousands, and millions from everything from war, famine, mass shootings and gun violence to pandemic, addiction and drunk driving some might question the appropriateness of mourning the passing of an animal when so many of my own kind are leaving life behind. For me it does not need to be an either-or; I can, and do, mourn for both. But candidly, though I've had the delight of canine companionship through all of my life, losing my Yukon has hit especially hard. As I told the vet, this - the decision to pit your pet down - doesn't get any easier though I've now felt the life leave from more pets as I've held them than I care to think about.

For dog lovers, every wet nose and wagging tail is special and unique. Every happy yip and bark brings joy. Joy... a feeling of great pleasure and happiness. Yukon brought so much of it into our lives that I fear the emptiness left behind will never quite be filled. 

Yukon's introduction to Life was not gentle. He was born to a backyard breeder who for whatever reason couldn't place (sell) or simply didn't want this weeks-old ball of fur born with one brown and one blue eye and a brown tinge to his coat and decided to throw him out on the streets of, of all places, Wichita, Kansas to fend for himself. By the time he was rescued he was severely malnourished and underweight and you couldn't blame him for being afraid and skittish around people. But that wasn't Yukon. Despite the cruelty meted out to him as he entered this world, he loved people. Just this 4th of July we were at the holiday parade in Leadville and Yukon reveled in the attention from kids and adults alike as they stopped to pet him and they in turn experienced, if but for a moment, some of the boundless love this dog had to give.

Love is a word that perhaps gets overused. Love between humans is often complicated. Who truly knows what is in another's heart? Love also can be fleeting, you need only look at the divorce statistics to see that people fall in and out of love all the time. There is a purity of Love given by a pet that I have yet to experience with those of my own kind and if I grieve for my Yukon that grief is because that type of Love is so rarely found and I will desperately miss it. If the Love in Yukon's now-still heart could only be forever shared this World would be a better place. 

I often looked into Yukon's eyes and hoped he knew he was loved as much in return by my wife and I. Every breed is special in its own way but if you've ever gazed into the eyes of a Siberian Husky and tried to fathom what you see then your heart and soul has swelled in wonder of what those depths have to share. Dogs are long since removed from their wild forbears but in the one blue and one brown eye of Yukon I could get a glimpse of a world sadly long lost to mankind. They say that not all who wander are lost; in Yukon's gaze I felt at peace, at home, and free to roam.

When we rescued Yukon his name was Blade, a moniker we never felt remotely fit him. Why we settled on the name Yukon is pure serendipity but it was foretelling. Yukon would get to visit his namesake and it was as if he was going home. I'm not overly religious but if there is a Heaven I hope, Yukon, it looks and smells and sounds like the great, wild Northcountry you got to experience in your youth.

Apologies to those who are not pet people for waxing on about the loss of my Yukon. Perhaps if you had ever met and seen him light up with happiness to greet you or been slapped by a tail wagging in pure bliss as you petted his head, you could indulge me in sharing, just for a moment, the love shared between a very, very special dog and one oh so ordinary human being. Yukon - from my still beating but now inconsolable heart, Thank You. May the ground beneath your paws be forever padded in pine needles.