There’s been a nice amount of good happening lately. I’m always very conscious to how blessed my family and I are when it comes to life in general. No, we’re not without our problems. Everybody’s got ’em. But for the most part, we’re pretty good. That said, it’s not always great times. I’ve been putting off writing this for a long time. Well, two things. I’ve been putting off writing two things for a long time. Maybe this one will help me build up the strength to get the other thing out.
While both of these things aren’t really things I typically blog about, I feel like I need to. You know, there’s truth in the saying “writing is therapy,” not to mention this blog is basically my journal so I need to treat it as such. But for now, let’s focus on the first thing.
It was the beginning of summer. Kids on their vacation, running amuck, typical times. Wife wakes up, does her morning routine before work, takes the dog out, goes to work, everything is totally normal. It’s time for me to get up. Get the kids ready, shovel them out into the living room kicking and screaming, it was very business as usual. It wasn’t till I got in the dining room that I realized it wasn’t going to be typical at all.
Anikin, our Siberian Husky of 13 and a half years, was there, obviously struggling. Tried to get him up but he was very weak, hard to walk. As I reluctantly called the wife she automatically knew. Then the kids realized something was going on and it was just one gigantic snowball getting pushed off a snow covered mountain, getting bigger and bigger as the hours passed.
I can tell you every single thing that happened that day. To the detail. What was in the room, where we were on the floor as we comforted our friend. It’s so ingrained in my memory, it would be hard to forget it if I wanted to. The room was filled to the ceiling with all sorts of melancholic emotions from everyone.
It was probably one of the hardest things I had to do as an adult. Because it wasn’t just all the feelings being flushed out of me, it was knowing the impact this would have on the kids. It made it all the more painful. So I felt like I had to play it calm, try to be that rock for them, answer questions, let them know what they can do, as if I’ve done this before. Spoiler, I haven’t. Losing a pet is hard. So many things change. The house changes. Routines have to be broken, stopped cold turkey. The air around it feels quieter. Emptier. Like you know there used to be a presence there and now it’s gone. We tried to keep busy after it happened, but no matter what we did it was always there when we got home. The deafening silence. It’s something that only the memories we have are able to fill. And that’s what I told my kids to hold onto. Those memories. As long as they keep remembering, he’ll always be here. Always be around.
The one positive thing I guess I can say is how fast it all happened. Within a few hours, it was over. There was no long process, no medication for months because of sickness, it was just a swift stab to the heart that left a scar. It was something the wife and I always feared. In the back of our minds we always knew it was getting closer to that time. Not from how Anikin acted, because again, he was normal up until that time. But we knew he was old. We knew one day we would have to cross that bridge. So we did the best we could.
It honestly wasn’t until we started looking at old pictures a few days later that we realized just how old he had gotten. Remembering all the memories he gave us, all the times we’ve been through, looking back and seeing how young he was compared to his senior life. It was like a veil was lifted.
And of course, none of this crosses your mind while they’re here. Even if they’re slow to get up and slow to walk around. They are still there. They’re still willing to play, and eat, and interact. You don’t realize how much you take for granted with a pet you’ve had for a long time. You get into a routine and you go day by day, thinking it’ll be like that forever.
Well, this day reminded us it’s not like that. Life doesn’t discriminate. It takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway. There’s a thousand things I regretted that day and every day since. But at the same time, there are even more things that I’m thankful for. All those memories and good times Anikin gave us.
Even the bad times. Like the wife and I still wake up Christmas morning and remember that one year when he was still a puppy and we woke up, excited for Christmas. Only to walk into the dining room where Anikin was in his crate… completely covered in diarrhea. Looking at us like “Merry Christmas! Shitter’s full.” My god, I could still smell it.
Or the time he wiggled himself out of his collar while I was walking him. At least I can say that I was able to chase down a Siberian Husky. I mean, it almost killed me, but I got him. I chased him for a good 5 or 6 blocks. He was having the time of his short life at the time. I remember him stopping to poop in someone’s yard and me catching up to him and getting a foot away from arms reach, so I lept, only for him to dash off and have me come inches away from head diving into his pile of crap.
A family out for a bike ride helped me out. I flagged them down and they circled him and he was distracted enough that I can grab him. My girlfriend (now wife) had absolutely no idea. She knew I was gone for longer than normal so she came outside to check, only to find my flip flops on the ground next to the dog’s collar and leash. She drove around for a while until she found me, holding myself up on a fence, cradling a very happy and derpy looking dog. Had to go back out and look for my phone that was somewhere near the pile of poop I almost dived into. Good times.
We got Anikin as a puppy. Sadly, we got him from Petland. Which, at the time, we knew no better. He was sick too, like on the brink of death, sick. So, thanks, Petland, for sending us to the vet that was in your pocket so he can sign off on a dying dog. We got him better though. And not only him, we got his brother, Atreyu. The wife and I always wanted a Husky. She grew up with them and I was always drawn to them. We went in for one and while we were playing with him, we heard a howling from the back. Like, a howl that made everyone there stop and wonder what that was. We asked and they said, “oh, that’s this Husky’s brother. They don’t like being separated.”
Of course, we asked to see Anikin and wound up walking out with two Husky puppys like complete suckers. The honeymoon lasted a few weeks though. Because we quickly learned how much they didn’t really get along. Atreyu was constantly picking on Anikin, asserting his dominance, with not only his brother but with us as well.
At the time, we both worked, and we couldn’t deal with the fighting on top of the regular responsibility of raising them, so we wound up selling Atreyu. We still wonder what happened to him, since the person we sold him to never stayed in contact. But we wound up keeping Anikin because he seemed gentler and more playful. It’s hard to think that was about 14 years ago.
But it was. And it proves how time is such a harsh beast. I’ll never not be sad about Anikin going to the Rainbow Bridge. And the same for my kids, as you can probably tell by the pictures.
We have two Husky stuffed animals that they now sleep with nightly that they named Anikin. And it seems that almost nightly the youngest is reminded because he always tells me how much he misses him before going to sleep.
As of this writing, his birthday would’ve been 9 days ago. So writing this in celebration seems fitting. Anikin left a huge paw print on our hearts that will never fade away. I hope he knew and understood how much he meant to our family. I’m sure he did, just as I’m sure he’s always here watching over us.
