Faithful Companions - Japanese Dogs Display Ultimate Loyalty

There have been over 23,000 people either missing or dead from Japan's earthquake and tsunami to date. As the world has watched and held it's (collective) breath, there have been a few miraculous rescues...but far fewer than hoped for.

One of the stories that seems to embody the nature of these stalwart people is of a Japanese dog that refused to leave his injured friend behind. In the last few weeks the YouTube video of this news coverage has become increasingly popular.

It shows Japanese rescuers coming upon two dogs, wet, dirty and shivering amidst massive wreckage. They had been caught in the tsunami and though one appeared unharmed, the other was thought dead until it raised its head. What is so endearing about this pair, is the faithfulness of the healthy dog. Even as rescuers approached, the dog would run to them but then trot back to his injured friend, sitting by his side (sometimes on his face), letting the world know that he would not leave - a loyal companion to the end. Both dogs were rescued and by all reports the injured dog is making a complete recovery.

This week our aging dog, Pokey, suffered a personal tsunami that brought us face to face with the potential death of our own faithful companion. 


With her 16th birthday just one month away, Pokey picked up a nasty bug that caused the most violent intestinal expulsions imaginable. Then she started throwing up. After four days of this she was exhausted, but seemed to be on the mend. She was eating well again and her intestines appeared to be back to normal. She had a good weekend, begging for walks, food and attention.

But Monday morning Peter woke me up early. Pokey was disoriented, struggling to stand, unable to walk and in significant pain. Spasms wracked her stomach and she moaned with each one. Her breathing was labored and erratic.We couldn't understand the sudden change and had nothing for her pain so made a quick trip to our vet. Although we hadn't seen him in over two years, our vet has seen Pokey grow up from a tiny pup. He doesn't mince words and isn't in the profession for the money - he has often given us "extras" for no charge. He just really loves animals.


After he checked her over, got her to stand briefly and asked a few questions, he told us it was most probably a long-term chest cancer that had suddenly exacerbated overnight due to her coughing. There was the potential she had an intestinal bleed as well. The tests to confirm these diagnosis would cost about $600. He didn't recommend them. He didn't even recommend us putting her down. He said we were looking at palliative care and gave us some liquid pain relief. She might only last a few days, but some dogs rallied and we could have her for a few weeks, maybe a month...

Pokey has always been a trooper so we weren't ready to give up on her. By the next day she was walking on her own, climbing stairs (though very slowly) eating a whole bowl of food and then pooping on our kitchen floor. Pretty much back to normal. It is giving us the chance to pet her a lot, tell her what an amazing dog she is (we have to shout it because she is quite deaf), and enjoy these last days or weeks or maybe even months, with our ever loyal friend.


It's given me the chance to remember some of her 'greatest moments,' so I'll share one with you. From the time she was a puppy we began the training process. It included all the typical things - sit, stay, speak, down, shake-a-paw, treat, car ride and even bunny, mouse and gopher (she is part Basset Hound). But since we lived opposite an off-leash hill, we wanted her to be outside on her own without charging across the road every time she saw another dog. So we began making her stop before she crossed a street. EVERY street. Sometimes she even mimicked me by looking both ways for cars, before looking up at me for the go ahead. We often wondered if all this work was really getting through...

One day I was at a neighbour's house for tea. She lived just down the street but right across the road from the end of our block. I had told Peter when I planned on being back home. 
The only way I can understand what happened next is to believe Peter had an attack of temporary insanity. He let Pokey out of our front door around the time I said I would come home, and told her to go find me. Now Pokey could track me anywhere! One time she had eluded Peter and followed my scent through a London Drugs store, to the amusement of both patrons and employees.


I was completely oblivious to the time, just enjoying the conversation with our neighbour, when the phone rang. She picked it up and promptly handed it to me. 
A frantic Peter shouted, ''Where is Pokey?''


''What do you mean, 'Where is Pokey?' She's with you, of course,'' I replied.


''I let her out 15 minutes ago and told her to find you,'' he sheepishly admitted.


''You did what?'' I shouted back. ''She could be anywhere!''

I gripped the cordless phone and walked to the window facing the other side of the road. There was Pokey sitting patiently, staring at me through the window. When she saw me looking at her, she began frantically wagging her tail, but never moved from a sitting position. By now my neighbour was laughing loudly. As I dropped the phone I could hear Peter, in the distance, shouting, ''What's happening? What's going on there?''

I slowly walked out the front door and down the steps. Pokey's tail was wagging so fast it was a blur. I looked down one side of the road and then the other. And she did the same. Once her eyes were back on me I yelled, ''Good girl!'' and told her to ''Come!'

 

Pokey got an extra special treat that night (while Peter was 'in the dog house'). Ever since then we have been able to trust her outside, on her own, with no fear of her crossing the road. 


Even in her debilitated state, she is showing me how much she enjoys life - a good meal, a slow walk down the street, licking snow, tracking bunnies and a good night's sleep. Now we have to trust that she will let us know when she has sucked all the marrow out of this life.


The YouTube video can be viewed at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3TM9GL2iLI 

The Gifts My Father Gave Me

My Dad died 21 years ago.

I miss him.

There's something special about a father/daughter relationship at it's best, and ours was that. Even though Dad was 51-years-old when I was born, he never seemed older than my friends fathers.

When I was pre-school age, he would come during the work day and pick me up in his monster truck, lifting me high into the seat. I felt like we were driving closer to the sky than the earth. He always had time for a game of badminton in our back yard but his favorite passtime was to roughhouse with me. I soon learned to use my gender to my advantage. There were times I would cry out as if I was hurt (think of the World Cup soccer players grasping their shins when they were barely touched). My Mom would invariably call out,"Not so rough, Henry, she's a girl you know." Then I'd grin and really attack him while he would try to find a gentle way of keeping me at bay.

As I reflect on his life and our relationship, here are some of the most important gifts he gave me:

• a sense of humor. Dad was always pulling practical jokes or telling jokes at work and home. One April Fools Day when I was young, he woke me up and told me to come see the baby deer in our front yard. I raced to the window looking frantically for the fawn. Although Dad was chuckling I didn't see the humor in this as my disappointment was huge. He often told jokes in low German and though I never understood them, they made my Mom laugh.

• confidence. When I got my learner's license and my Mom refused to drive with me, Dad took over. He would take me out every Sunday afternoon near the Abbotsford airport where there were criss-crossing roads with virtually no traffic (this was quite a few years ago :). He taught me to parallel park by pounding in two wooden poles the proper distance apart. If I knocked one of them down, I did it again...and again... Once I got my license (on the first try) he made me change all the car tires and showed me how to check the oil and transmission fluid. He gave me the confidence I needed to handle car problems and flat tires when there was no one to help me.

• love of animals. This was our special secret. Mom didn't want pets. The only reason we had a number of cats (all living entirely outdoors) was because of the mice on our property. Dad was my animal ally. If he caught a mouse and it wasn't dead, he gave it to me to nurse back to health. Once it was better I had to take it into our neighbour's woods and release it there. When I rescued a wild rabbit that had been mauled by dogs, he took shifts with me feeding and caring for it. Dad and I often found baby birds stranded out of their nests and he would show me how to put them back. He was the one who talked Mom into allowing us to have a dog. Unfortunately "Tiny," our golden lab puppy, only stayed tiny for a few weeks. With a penchant for chasing airplanes, and with us being right on the flight path for the Abbotsford Airshow, Tiny was soon moved to a farm.

• spiritual integrity. Dad and his whole family had to flee Russia because of spiritual persecution. Dad was only 16 years old at the time. Though he told me few stories about that time, he showed me that his faith was real. We had family devotions every day and often the stories Dad read moved him emotionally. He was not ashamed to cry, even though I was sometimes ashamed that he did it. But as I grew older, I saw how deep his relationship with God was. I became to appreciate his ability to show his feelings when so many men bottled theirs in. He helped give me the freedom to express my own emotions and live a spiritual life that is meaningful and deep.

• expressing love. I was Daddy's 'little girl' and he told me he loved me often, even when I grew taller than him. Fathers usually have a harder time expressing their love for their sons than their daughters and I think that was true with me and my older brother. Maybe because I was much more demonstrative of my love, Dad found it easier to respond in kind. In my mid-20s, when I got really sick, he didn't know how to help me. One evening he sat on my bed and told me how he had loved me when I was born and how that love had grown. It was the best thing he could have done. When I moved to Calgary, I knew he missed me very much. Whenever I flew home I would spend as much time as I could just being with him, a companionship where words were seldom used. When his kidneys failed and he knew he was dying, he asked me all sorts of questions about my car, my boyfriend (soon to be husband) and my finances...like he was just making sure I would be okay. The last words he said to my Mom (and my brother and me) were, "I love you."  Because of him, I never miss an opportunity to say those words to someone else.

I wish my Dad were still alive, but I'm so thankful for all the things he taught me. What did you learn from your Father? What gifts did he give you?