Two Voices Separated by 1 Generation

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Added: Thu. Apr 23, 2009 2:46pm
Posted in: Relationships

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IT IS WITH PLEASURE I INTRODUCE MISHA FINEDOG HUNTER

 

Eight years ago I went into one of those terrible puppy mill places with my daughter "just to look".  I was doing great until I saw a little grey ball of fur barely moving.  Instinctively I knew this puppy was in trouble.  Kristina and I circled around him several times before I forced myself out the door.  We had found out his breed (Shih Tzu) and price ($500), tried to convince ourselves there was no way we could have a dog, and had him named before we were half way home.  We both worried about him all weekend and decided to go back on Monday to just look again.  Of course, we both knew we were going to walk out that door with a little grey puppy in our arms.  This decision was solidified when we got to the door and found it locked!  I was furious.  How could that awful place be closed when we were there to free an innocent inmate?  By 10 the next morning Kristina and I were heading west on I-4 determined to accomplish our mission.  In less than 15 minutes I had become the proud pet parent of a tiny grey and white male Shih Tzu and my daughter had a third brother who dressed in fur.  We took our new family member right to the vet's office.  Because of repeated inbreeding puppy mill puppies are notoriously fragile and Misha was no exception.  He was in such bad shape that first visit the vet wondered aloud how he had survived as long as he had.  There have been many subsequent visits with many serious issues but Saturday's visit topped them all.  I found out his heart is twice the normal size it should be.  We made it through bladder stone surgery, losing the sight in his right eye, a swollen saliva gland, and a chronic sensitive stomach-but this diagnosis took my breath away.  I cupped my hands around his little face, looked right into his eyes and said "we're in this together".

 

There has not been one day in the eight years I have known Misha Finedog Hunter that I have not thanked God for him.  He came into my life just as all my children were leaving home to march into their adulthood.  I left the big house with the pool and the lawn always needing something to be done to it and moved into my first ever apartment.  I had never lived alone and because of Misha the anxiety that kind of change can bring was greatly dulled.  He and I settled into a wonderful routine and he began to go with me everywhere.  We had been close at the house but this time was something else. The neighbors knew us as a couple and that was fine by me. We treated each other as couples should treat each other-with nothing but love and kindness.  I cooked special boiled chicken for him and cuddled on the couch with him as we watched tv.  When I went to bed he got tucked in right beside me and the warmth of that little 11.3 pound dog next to my body was all I needed to reassure me all was right in the world.

 

Our routine has remained pretty much the same.  Until last Saturday.   I know I'll adjust to his condtion but right now I'm devastated.  He had a fainting episode Sunday night and the vet said it was from the stress of all the procedures he endured on Saturday.  Now I keep thinking "is this too much for him-should he be doing that?”  What is our new routine going to be?  I guess we'll both have to find that out one day at a time.  But one thing I do know for sure, one thing I do know will never change, is the love we have for each other.  That little grey ball of fur I thought I was rescuing was really rescuing me. What a gift. There will never be another Misha Finedog Hunter.

 

~Deedra Hunter

 

 

 

 

 

 

MAN"S BEST FRIEND- Growing up I always heard the statistic: 2.5 kids and a dog. In my family it was 4 kids and no dog. My father was deathly allergic. That always made me very jealous of my friends that did have dogs. I thought of all the fun I was missing out on. Coming home from school to a waggly tail and big eyes; a friend that always wanted to love you. In college I did get a dog. I rescued him from a "breeder" off the streets of Manhattan. I paid $100 dollars for him. I named him Mooha (long story, just go with it.) After I had him trained, in just a few weeks, I came home one day to find him scurrying out of the living room leaving a trail of urine behind him. The pattern of behavior continued until the day I discovered that one of my roommates was abusing him. I was horrified. I had no choice but to give him up. It breaks my heart to this day.

 

My friend Sally has had her hound dog, Charlie, for 13 years. He is the sweetest thing. He follows her around the house, slowly but surely, and just loves her unconditionally. She gets so happy when she sees him coming. She calls him "Sunshine". Sally received Charlie when she was only ten years old. She was an only child, that is until he came along. He has this enduring waddle and I can't imagine what it's going to be like for her when Charlie goes to that big doggy park in the sky.

 

Since we live mostly in cities, having a dog is tough. While living in India, I'm glad we didn't have one. Where would he have stayed? We would have missed him too much. When Brandon comes back to the States in May, we hope to live in a place that allows dogs. In fact, it just might be a prerequisite for a new home. It will be very interesting. If I had a dog when I was a child, that dog would have been my lifelong friend. Now, I feel like getting a dog with Brandon will be like a dry run for a child. It's funny how the dynamic of your personal circumstances changes the relationship with your dog. For Deedra, Misha has been the companion that has in a way replaced her children's presence. For Brandon and me, our puppy will be a new addition to the family. Either way, the love you share for a dog is like no other. We need them in our lives for whatever reason. Friends and family come and go, but your dog will always love you.

 

 

~ELIZABETH WHITTEMORE