So, he was huge and white and fluffy, and with my mother's help, named him Farouk of Dutchess. He was Cybil's 9-month old brother and what a beauty he was. It felt right taking him home since Cybil disappeared, almost like he represented the memory of her. His fur was much longer, but no where near full length yet. That takes about 2 whole years. He was high energy that's for sure, and because of what happened to Cybil, Farouk was allowed to come in the house at night. When he got the chance to be free, which was on the golf course our house bordered, he took good advantage of it and would take off like a rocket. This particular day was no different. He was in the house, the door to the street was held open and off he took like a rocket; right into the path of an oncoming car. I screamed and screamed and screamed. We put his lifeless body, barely breathing into the car and on our way to the veterinarian, he took his last breath.
Another 2 months later and I'm ready to find myself a dog of my own (again), except this time it won't be an Afghan. I've come to realize that they weren't meant to be for me. I was talking to a co-worker and he highly recommended a Golden Retriever. He's had a couple over the years and relates that they are good companions, lovable, sweet and very intelligent, although don't necessarily show it. He went on to say how they love their humans and get along well with other pets. I was sold. As luck would have it there were Golden Retriever puppies listed in the classifieds right in Hyde Park, a mere 6-minute drive. Hooray! Off I go with another $125 in hand, knowing there is no way I wouldn't fall in love with at least one. I brought her home and named her Kaisha; again, I believe, with my mother's help. For 3 days she lay under the living room chair; never moved. Definitely not normal behavior for an 8-week old puppy. After being examined by the vet and running several tests, he informed us that she had a bad heart; I don't recall the exact diagnosis, but it wasn't great. She may grow out of it; or she may need surgery, but no guarantees. I couldn't take the chance, so brought her back to the family I bought her from.
Here I am again, wanting a dog of my own so badly and being without. There is an ad in the paper every Sunday for a place that claims to have over 100 different breeds of puppies. I decided that rather than choose a breed and then look for a puppy; I would go there and look at all the puppies and choose a breed. This place was just over the border in Connecticut, and when I got there, could not believe all the puppies I had to choose from. I chose a collie puppy. She was so adorable looking out at me from her cage. It's December now and I knew in my heart that she would make the perfect Christmas gift for myself. As luck would have it, her price was $125, the exact amount I had available.
Since the name Kaisha was only used for 3 days, and I really liked it, I used it for this puppy as well except I appended it a bit. My puppy's name is Kaisha Anne Kollie (ok, a little corny now, but it worked at the time). Just as I had suspected, she turned out to be the best pet we ever had. Kaisha Anne is the 4th puppy I have owned in only 6 months. Even though I paid for her and considered her mine; she really belonged to the entire family. She survived a "bump" with a car and an electrical shock when she chewed on a live lamp wire. She was meant to be part of our family for a while. Unfortunately, when she was only 2, she was diagnosed with epilepsy and had to be medicated with phenobarbital. The doses had to be adjusted from time to time to keep her from seizuring, but not so sedated she couldn't go out to relieve herself. That was tricky, but whatever it took; she was worth it. We all loved her so much. When we had our portrait done for our parents as a Christmas gift, she was automatically a part of it. Would never have considered otherwise.
In 1979 I moved to Winston-Salem, NC and left Kaisha behind. There wasn't a chance my family would let me take her, and it wouldn't have been fair to her. I wouldn't be home during the day and would be living in an apartment with no yard to speak of, so the decision was an easy one to make. One night in 1982 I had some friends over and my phone rings. My mother gave me the bad news; Kaisha had a very bad seizure and passed away. I cried as my friends looked on; clueless as to what news I received. That year for Christmas I had an 8x10 photo made of Kaisha, put it in a frame and wrapped it up for my Dad. When he opened it, everyone became silent and still. I could see my Dad's eyes get glassy. That was the first time I had ever seen that kind of emotion in my Dad. Someone sniffled, I began to cry and before you knew it, everyone in the room was crying. That photo hangs in my parents house today, and everyone in my family still feels the same way about Kaisha ... a great member of the family whose 8 short years brought us so much joy!
No comments:
Post a Comment