In comparison with the hell i've been through throughout the course of my
life I'd have to say this past week is right up there with the one in which
my brother died.

I think most of you have heard about my Malamute but few know the story. I
found her about two years ago at the montanan equivalent of a town about 80
miles from where I live. She was sleeping by a dumpster in an ally on the
bad side of town, so covered in mud I could barely tell she was black and
white. She was undernourished and weak...and wilder than you can imagine.
She groweled at me when i woke her up but I was careful and after a few
minutes had gained her trust. I couldn't find any tags or a collar or
anything, and she was so gaunt I could see her ribs-which is very rare in a
malamute. Being a tenderheart I took her home and called the humane society
etc. etc. Basically your typical lost dog syndrome. I never found the
previous owner and ended up adopting her. Then the troubles started.
Mineka had a spirit as free as the wind. She did what she wanted when she
wanted HOW she wanted and no human was going to tell her otherwise, yet in
her rebellious independance she had a sort of soft spot for me, if I was
ever upset or in any sort of trouble she'd sense it and comfort me in her
little way. I live a very lonley life out here, the few associations I have
with other people my age are less than kind and so i've, very much like
Benny, taken refuge in animals. What i'm getting at is I had a very close
yet delicate relationship with this dog.

She was hit by a speeding truck last thursday and it broke her back, I
really had no choice but to put her down. As if this wasn't enough, three
days later my mini datshund woke up yelping and couldn't put any weight on
her back legs without extreme pain. Now we've always suspected she had a
back problem because she seems to curl where normal datshund's bow. We took
her to a different vet for a second opinion and within a minute he diagnosed
her with a sort of spine deformity that was pinching a disk in her back.
Surgery was not an option so once again, I had to make the call and put my
other dog down. What really makes me sick about that case is that the poor
thing lived in nothing but pain it's 8 months of life.

I haven't yet cried for my two dogs, it's as if the pain runs deeper than
that. I read somewhere how you don't cry at your own funeral, and I feel as
if I lost part of myself with them. I suppose it will follow the natural
grief cycle though, and after I get out of shock it will hit with full
force.

Anyway, i'm sorry for the delay with posting of my story etc. I'll get on
it ASAP.

TYK everyone,
Triest Wright