Go ahead, laugh at me.

More than a year ago I posted that my dear doggie, Kira had passed away. Usually within a few days of a pet’s death I post a tribute to them, but I never did with Kira. She certainly deserved it since she was a faithful member of our family for many years. But after losing her soul-mate, Abby, 7 months earlier I just couldn’t do it. The words entered my head within hours of her slipping away, but I just couldn’t get them out into the world. A few days ago a picture of Kira popped up in my FB feed. It was from 3 years ago celebrating her birthday. I took it as a sign that perhaps it was time….. Kira’s story with us began in Sept of 2000 when my friend and then neighbor knocked on my door announcing excitedly “I found a puppy, I found a puppy what do I do?” I went to her house to see the 2 month old stray. And there she was, flea infested, so thin you could count her ribs, belly swollen with worms. Clearly she was scared to death by the way she was shaking. We gave her a flea bath and a meal and she seemed much happier. Myrna and I decided she would live with me until I found a better home for her. I took her my my house and put her in the yard. Abby sniffed her on the muzzle as if to say “Hey where you been?” and the 2 romped off through the summer grass. They were instantly soul-mates. I knew I could never separate them. Over the years they had many adventures running through dog parks and forest preserves, autumn leaves and winter snow. And occasionally through the neighborhood if she could slip under the fence. That is when I saw the influence of her beginnings as a stray. Kira would escape and worry me sick. She would always come back a few hours later and acting as if she was saying “Hey Mom, it was so fun, I went everywhere and smell things and pooped in funny places and Mom it was soo fun!” then beg for a biscuit. She would also eat anything. ANYTHING. I mean why pass up a dead bird found on a walk, right? She would walk right past a bowl full of fresh water from a bubbly tap and drink from a leaf filled puddle (is it soup yet?). Aside from her gustatory indiscretions, she would dig holes to sleep in that always were deeper on the side that faced the north winds. I bet she was born in a hole just like that. Other than being such a scrapper, Kira was an empath. She had an uncanny way of knowing when something was wrong and you were upset. She was always very shy around one friend of mine, running into the basement every time she came over. One day that friend came to my home crying about her problems. Kira immediately got over her shyness and laid on the sofa next to her snuggling, telling her to feel the love now and all her problems would work themselves out. From that point on when that once dreaded friend came over she was now Kira’s new best buddy. And speaking of buddies, when that human puppy came home she became the canine nanny. She was extremely tolerent of baby Zoe but one day she had enough of the tail pulling and paw stepping and eye poking, so she knocked the baby over and laid down on top of her, just like a mother dog would do to one of her litter. She also was the best pillow/heating pad/ companion when said human puppy was sick in bed. After she got done raising Zoe, she took over duties with Beast and showed him the ways of the world. When Abby became senile she assumed the role of pack leader, nothing was going to get past her and bother her family. A week after Abby crossed over to the Rainbow Bridge, Isabella Trouble was born. When she came home Kira was the best mother to her and kept a very watchful eye. During Bella’s first winter I watched Kira show Bella how to decimate a pristine snow drift, demonstrating how the big dogs do it so she doesn’t have to stay on the porch. I was so lucky to have such a active healthy dog age 15 to show a puppy how it’s done. So when she started limping and wobbling a few months later I immediately took her to the vet. After a few appointments the vet told me the cancer was everywhere, even in her eyes, and there is no treatment for a dog this old with that stage of cancer. That night in her own bed, her grandparents, me, Zoe, Beast and puppy Bella surrounded her as vet helped her slip into her eternal slumber. My only comfort was knowing that when she crossed over she was met by a youthful, healthy Abby who sniffed her on the muzzle as if to say “hey where you been?” and together they romped off through the summer grass, autumn leaves and snowdrifts of the Rainbow Bridge.'