Shortly after 2 am this morning, we got a phone call that the Husky’s blood pressure and sugar were falling and they were working to save her. About five minutes later, we got another call that she passed. And I am devastated.
The Husky came into our life as a big fur ball. She was born on September 15, 2002 to my aunt P’s huskies and a month or so later she became a member of our family. Originally P was going to keep her and give us a cinnamon type pup but my parents fell for the Husky. I remember the first evening she was home: my parents and sister went to dinner and I stayed behind so she wouldn’t be alone. I heard some crying coming from their bathroom and I went in and in her box, she had pooped. She was crying because she didn’t want to be there with her ah personal waste. I picked her up and we hung out in the living room where she fell asleep under my leg. The name she had was given by P and we tried to change it, but my mom didn’t like any of the names. I personally hated when people would ask Husky’s name because it was like “duh.” LOL!
The Husky was accident prone and our diva brat. Refusing many times as a puppy to go to her kennel to sleep at night because my mom was still up doing something. There she was, a very sleepy pup trying to keep her eyes open just to be there with my mom. She was in many ways the first dog my mom actually loved as if it were a child. We had dogs growing up, but for some odd reason Husky became hers. She would dance with her and when the Husky discovered our two other dogs, she quickly abandoned my mom to hang with them. She was a curious little monster and once got stuck under the shed in the backyard. Another time my parents were cleaning up the backyard and somehow she got in the way of a wheelbarrow and one of her legs was hurt. For a few months she walked around in a cast and we called her Peg-leg Husky. I wish I had thought of getting her an eye patch to complete the pirate look.
She loved going on walks. Sometimes I wonder if she was taking me out for a walk instead. Would go crazy when my dad took her running until a torn ligament sidelined her and walks were only in her future. She loved chicken tenders (these chicken jerky type of treats) and rawhide bones. Oh man, did she love her rawhides! She often buried her treats in the sofa or outside and before you know it, she would dig them up.
I’m going to miss her pony dance for food and being woken up at 2 am as she barked to go out. But I’m really going to miss her snoring and her taking up the entire space of the hallway outside my bedroom because she was fast asleep and refused to move. There will never be the sound of her paws on the tile or hearing her collar make noise as she shook herself after getting up heard again.
My poor diva fought hard to live. On Friday, I came home to her disoriented. Then she went to her spot in the living room and didn’t move. She was taking deep deep breaths, but my parents refused to rush to her the nearest VCA hospital because they were worried they’d put her to sleep without us being present. So that night, I slept next to her on the floor and even held one of her front paws. She often slept in my room at night and it felt cruel to leave her alone and I wanted her to know someone was near. Yesterday she was taken to her vet for an appointment and from there rushed to the hospital where they worked to steady her heartbeat (it was beating really fast) and bring down her fever. By 7 pm, her heartbeat was steady and they gave her an antibiotic in hopes that it would help the infection and bring down her fever. Sadly, the infection had crossed into her bloodstream and she stopped breathing early this morning.
I don’t know how I’m going to live without her. The house feels so empty without her and I keep hoping this is a horrible dream. My diva won’t ever bite my nose to wake me up nor will she demand to be fed at 6 pm or bark at me because everyone got fed before her.