Story 24: Counter-Surfer, Fire-Starter

Baby Laika was always hungry. Baby Laika was a mischief-machine. The combination of these two facts meant that she was adept at locating snacks low and high. Obviously, eliminating the availability of low-hanging snacks was easy. However, given her scavenging ability (like standing and eating on the dining room table), even higher ground was not-so-safe for keeping Laika away from snackables!

Laika could probably smell jars of open peanut butter a block away. So, it was no surprise that any food left unattended on kitchen countertops was an open invitation for her to search and devour. She learned early on that my roommates were pretty careless with leaving all sorts of goodies out, so she would wait for the right moment and pilfer whatever it was that she wanted. This involved her eating Oreos, figs and a few other things. Until I saw her do it, though, I couldn't do anything to curtail this counter-surfing, other than try to train myself and my roommates to put everything away in cupboards or on shelves.

Luckily, Laika was always one to push limits and test the rules. After several successful covert attempts to score "counter-treasure," she got more brazen in her scavenging and actually tried to grab something (with both front paws on the counter) while I was in the kitchen with her! Since it was my first time catching her in the act, it was a good moment to tell her "no" and reinforce that this was unacceptable behavior. As usual, Laika loved to please, so she immediately sat down, tail-wagging and was given a treat. She seemed to get that she shouldn't be counter-surfing and the positive reinforcement helped.

After a few days, though, she was back to her old ways. At this point, even if there was nothing to motivate her nose, curiosity of the possible existence of treats manifested itself in exploratory counter-surfing. I would sometimes catch a glimpse of her with both front paws on the counter, just surveying the situation. Upon her recognition that she was discovered, Laika would quickly sit down and look at me with the most innocent look she could muster and wait for a treat. It was naughty, but also very hilarious. Most of the time, I would give her a treat, though. I think I was actually the one being trained, it appears.

Laika's interest in things on the counter came in waves. She would be good for a few days and then fall back into her old ways for a few days. Then again, I was not watching her 100% of the time that I was home, but since she was still being crated at this point, I knew that she was not getting into trouble in the house while we were away (unless during one of her great escapes). Still, when my roommate Kyle was at home, Laika had a bit more freedom to roam around and...well...get into trouble.

One of these times, she did something that could have ended very badly. Kyle had been making food in the kitchen under the ever-watchful (and ever-hopeful) eyes of the Counter-Surfer. He hadn't used the stove, but prepared everything on the counter next to it. After finishing the food prep, he put away all of the ingredients and left the room to go eat on the balcony (the furthest area from the kitchen). Laika, always waiting for an opening, took this opportunity to launch an investigation...only this time, instead of putting her paws on the counter, she put them on the stove. On the dismount, she must've accidentally turned one of the knobs. Poof! She accidentally lit one of the burners and turned it to low!!! She then left the kitchen to go spy on Kyle while he was eating.

As luck would have it, I came home about 10 minutes later to give Laika her lunch. Obviously, she was pumped and wiggled excitedly the entire time we walked down the hallway. As we entered the kitchen, I was very startled to see the burner on. I quickly turned it off, as it was not safe in the least (especially with Laika around). I thought maybe Kyle left it on, but as soon as touched the stove, Laika immediately sat down and wouldn't make eye contact with me. This was a sure sign that it was her doing! Kyle had also just come back to the kitchen and I asked him about it. He hadn't even used the stove. So, this left only one suspect. The four-legged, curious pitbull!

Since Laika was acting guilty, I figured it was no use to yell at her. Instead, I did what anyone else with ingenuity and a naughty pup would do...I took an old skateboard deck and bungee-corded it to the front of the stove to protect the burners. It fit perfectly! Kyle was impressed with my problem solving. As I learned with Laika, crates and gates were no match for her, so something more clever was necessary. This solved the problem and, soon, the incorrigible counter-surfer-turned-fire-starter actually started to overcome her bad habit (for the most part). Years later, she did eat some bread that was left out by another roommate, but I think that was just a way for Laika to test us again...to show that she was still able to hang-ten (or is it eight?) on the countertops!

Story 23: Day-Off Surprises

I am currently in the market for a new mattress and it is not going well. For the better part of the last 8 months, I have been sleeping on the floor because if Laika was asleep and comfortable on the bed I didn't want to bother her. I got pretty good at sleeping without padding and only using a blanket and pillows. But, now that Laika is no longer with me, it is time to get a new mattress. Last week, upon removing the plastic cover (to keep out Laika's potential chemo fluids), I realized that the mattress has a collection of dog-related stains. It wasn't until this morning when I was taking to a coworker about mattress shopping that I remembered the exact cause of some many of them.

Laika was a puker. Throughout her life, she would puke randomly and stealthily for no apparent reason. She would eat grass, like many other dogs, and not throw-up. Then, she would go about her daily business and mysteriously puke. One time, we were crossing the street on a walk and halfway across, she just turned her head to the side and threw-up on the road without even breaking stride; she kept walking as if nothing happen. It was very impressive!

Most dogs that I've taken care of will usually give a fair amount of warning when they are going to be sick. They will either get a panicked look on their face, act somewhat agitated or pace around, or their stomach will make "the sound." Anyone who has been around pukey dogs knows what I am talking about. Their stomachs go from silent and happy to growling and angry. The few times I had to give Laika peroxide to throw-up (another story or two), her stomach sounded like a cement-mixer about to jettison its fullness on anything and everything in the surrounding area. But, usually, her puking was spontaneous, surprising and eerily silent.

There was nothing that Laika ate which specifically made her puke. It just kind of happened. Sometimes she would drink really fast and throw-up a bit. Other times, it just seemed like maybe a combination of a full-stomach mixed with excitement or anxiety. Trying to figure out what made her sick was not worth the mental strain. It was one of the wonders of the world. But, despite whatever would cause it, the result was a mess. If we were lucky, she would puke outside and we could leave it where it was "released" and walk off into the sunset together, a little bit less burdened by the weight of the evil in Laika's tummy. However, this was not always the case...as we shall see.

I used to work Sunday - Thursday in the afternoon/evenings. So, Friday was my first day of the weekend. On Fridays, I usually woke up early and took Laika out. Then would go do errands and come home in the afternoon to hang out with her. One Friday, I was feeling especially tired after taking Laika out and crawled back into bed to rest a bit more. Laika was milling around the apartment, sniffing everything, making sure that all the odors passed muster. As soon as she came into my room, she jumped onto the bed with me and, without warning, puked on both blankets that were covering me! Her reaction was to just stand there, as if nothing happened, and smile at me, while wagging her tail. What a jerk! I, obviously, had to get out of my warm (now warmer) bed and go do laundry in the basement. All the while, I could hear Laika loudly wagging her tail two floors above me! After the incident, she was puke-free for an entire week.

The next Friday, I was, again, in bed trying to get some rest. Laika was, again, happily investigating the sights and smells of the apartment. And...again, she jumped onto the bed, in which I was relaxing, mind you, and unleashed another vomitous volley! This time, she somehow managed to hit every layer of bedding all the way to the mattress (but missed me)! How did she know this was my day off and I would have time do all the laundry? Was she planning this? Was it coincidence? I will never know. The only truth that I knew for sure was that my bed had been puked-on by a happy puppy, yet again.

The next Friday...well...you can figure out the rest from the last two paragraphs. Laika, again, autographed each layer of the bedding with pinpoint accuracy. It was like she was some sort of puke sniper and I was caught in her sick game of target practice! But each time, she acted like she had done nothing wrong and just wagged her tail and tried to give me kisses. I am not sure if she was trying to tell me something, but it was an effective way for me to get out of bed, I can assure you.

The next Friday...there was no puke on my bed! Victory! Laika's streak of ruining...I mean...planning my day had come to an end. I was happy to spend the day with her sans any day-off surprises! After these repetitive episodes, Laika did occasionally get sick on my bed, but it was never again while I was actually in the bed, trying to enjoy myself. However, as I discovered the other day, her legacy lives on through the way she chose to "personalize" my mattress!

The bed-puker captured in her natural habitat.

Story 22: Master of Small Places

Laika was not a small lady. She was extremely solidly built (more or less a giant muscle) and could pull a leash pretty hard if given the chance! When she wasn't wagging her tail with a goofy look on her face, some people found her to look a little intimidating...especially when she was screaming at a squirrel or other dog! However, this side of her appearance and demeanor betrayed Laika's greatest secret: she lived to curl-up and snuggle in the smallest places possible.

Laika came into my life as a 37 lb bundle of joy. She was a good size, especially for her insanely high energy (and mischief) level! When I first took her to the vet, I was told that she was probably about a year old and was full-grown. Turns out, they had no clue what they were talking about! Laika kept growing in all proportions and soon nearly doubled in size! She grew stronger and happier and hungrier until she reached 64 lbs! This was ok with me, because I like bigger dogs. But...Laika's mind never quite caught on that she was rather large. She fancied herself a lapdog and her sleeping habits continued to drive her to be a master of small places.

As a pup, she loved to sleep curled in a tiny ball in her crate. After she "grew-up," she loved to sleep curled in a giant ball. As evidenced by her love of "nesting" in blankets, Laika excelled at snuggling herself into tight spots to be extremely warm. I had tried to get her various large lounger beds with high sides, but none of them met her approval (this story will be told another day). All of this changed when my mom bought a too-small dog bed for Laika for my parents' house. At first, we thought that Laika wouldn't like it, but, much like the vet's assessment of Laika's age, we couldn't have been more wrong!

Laika's tiny bed was actually the main attraction for her at my parents' house. When combined with the warmth of the fireplace, she was in heaven. It was hysterical to see her lay in the bed, because she was more or less bursting out of it in some direction when she would lay down. It was honestly too small to contain her entire body, but she loved sleeping in it nonetheless (see Photos 1-3). Every time I saw her laying "in" it, I got a mental image of a thumbprint cookie with the filling bursting out. Not sure why, but in my mind, this makes sense. Eventually the bed moved to my house and Laika continued to choose it over any of the other beds!

Additionally, Laika loved to curl-up either behind my legs or somehow "under" my back while I was sleeping in bed. She would tuck herself into the smallest size possible and just burrow into the space that she wanted. For being as large as she was, she didn't actually take up as much space as one would think. Granted, when she stretched-out, she could command a lot of real estate. But, usually, she preferred to be compact and occupying very small spots.

Even when she was't the only furry companion in the house, she and Heisa loved to sleep in a larger bed together. Heisa was smaller (and quieter) than Laika, but she was still about 43 lbs or so. On occasion, I would find both of them curled up in the bed together, fast asleep with the sides of the bed being tested to their limits (see Photo 3). They must have been so warm and content. It made me endlessly happy to see them so content being with each other; sharing one of the smallest sleeping spaces available in the house. I still look at the photo and feel extreme joy inside, remembering how much Laika loved to sleep like that all the time and also how well she and Heisa got along.

Even at our new house, where Laika only lived for her last month, she made a point to find small spots to sleep. I would sometimes wake up in the night and she would be wedged in the small gap between my bed and the bookcase, happily snoring or dreaming. I also found her curled up against the bathtub on the soft rug in the bathroom more than a few times. Until her last days, Laika truly lived the life of a small dog trapped in a large body. She was, indeed, the Master of Small Places.

Photo 1. Almost a perfect fit.

Photo 2. Starting to spill out, but still comfy!

Photo 3. Is this a bed or a cushion? Laika in a state of bliss. 

Photo 4. Laika and Heisa "in" a bed built for...two?

A Letter to Laika: Three Weeks Later

Laika,

This past week has been up and down. I still feel at a loss of how to fill the hours that we used to spend together. The last few months were hard for both of us, but knowing that you were still comfortable and being strong in your endless struggle with the ever-changing treatments and cancer in your body made me feel so good to be able to be there for you. I think this is what is meant by unconditional love; doing what is in your heart without hopes of personal gain, seeing that love can manifest itself in action for others.

I moved your beds into the basement this past week. It was hard to do, because it is a concrete admission that you are not coming back. There are now blank spaces on the floor to match the void in my life and heart. I still pause when I open bags of chips or jars of peanut butter, because my mind won't let me escape the habit of hearing your excited tail wagging and picturing your curious, expectant look.

I am still sad, but it isn't the same as before. It is more nuanced and tinged with hints of happiness. I know this seems contradictory, but, inside, it makes sense. I am not sad for you, I am happy that you are now three weeks removed from the pain you were feeling. I know that you are in a better place and your good actions from our time together is leading you to an even better place. Your soul will find peace, because of the love you gave to all those around you. Your next life will be a result of your efforts to be strong and give to other constantly. This is why the sadness is slowly being filled with happiness.

Laika, I still miss you all the time. I am still lighting candles nightly in your memory. I am still writing stories of your bodily life, the lessons you taught and your beautiful personality. All of your hilarious, endearing and courageous antics are constantly bringing a smile to face and contemplation in my heart-mind. I am still leaving food and water in your honor daily. And, I am still trying to live life as you always taught...face each day with love and contentment, even when you are left alone in the all-to-quiet house.

Love,

Dad

 

Story 21: Post-Surgery Pangs

Laika was a stoic dog when it came to showing discomfort or pain. In fact, I can't really think of times that she acted like she was sick. Even throughout all of her surgeries and treatments, she was generally upbeat and focused more on getting back to being herself than staying down for the count. After the first time she had surgery for her cancer, though, I thought completely the opposite.

Laika lived a long, happy life despite much of it being under the shadow of cancer. Around 6 years ago, I was running with Laika and noticed a small lump on her right shoulder, directly under the harness. I didn't really think anything of it at the time, but the next day, it had gotten bigger. I thought it might be an irritation from the harness, because Laika loved to pull, but something about it didn't seem right. Laika didn't seem bothered by the mass, but there was an odd 3rd dimension under the skin that made me immediately take her to the vet.

The doctor we saw was new at the practice, but she was very good with Laika and did a fine-needle aspiration of the lump, which was directly below the surface of the skin. As usual, Laika was a good patient for the vet. The doctor left to examine the sample and was gone a long time. We waited patiently and Laika ate a ton of treats. When the doctor returned, she had an odd look on her face, like she has something to say and didn't know how to say it. I just came out and asked, "This is cancer, right?" The doctor answered by nodding her head, exhaling a sympathetic sigh.  I then looked at Laika, sitting happily in the small exam room with us, unknowingly wagging her tail while waiting for another treat. She had no idea about her illness and it made me so sad. I was also shocked, as there was no way my healthy pup had cancer! But, as I learned from my mom's successful battle against cancer a year or so before, the disease can strike even the healthiest of bodies. So, I gathered the courage from what I observed in my mom with her confrontation of the disease and the duty as Laika's guardian to make a plan for the mast cell tumor to be removed later in the week.

I had never taken Laika for a treatment as serious as this. After all, it was cancer and surgery. I was very thorough in helping to prepare Laika. She had to be fasted from the night before and no water in the morning. I was worried I would mess up, but I didn't! Laika was very confused when she wasn't given breakfast and gave me the stink-eye as she sat in front of her empty bowl. I felt like a horrible dad, as she didn't understand why. However, she was happy to go in the car, even though she didn't know what was in store for her. The surgery went well. The tumor was removed successfully with acceptable margins and Laika was discharged the same afternoon. It was apparently not as big a deal as I thought, as it was outpatient surgery and we were home again together by the afternoon.

It was early March, I recall. I was supposed to keep Laika from acting like a dog for over 10 days while the incision healed. Usually, the weather is very bad at that time of year, so it wouldn't have been a big deal. But, that day was unseasonably warm and sunny! Upon lifting Laika out of the car, she wanted to run down the street and sniff everything. It was going to be a long few weeks! It was reassuring, however, that she was feeling good. When we entered the house, I looked through the bag of "party favors" that the vet gave us (a.k.a. medicine and hospital discharge instructions). Laika was able to have water, but still had to wait for food. "How could she stand it?," I wondered.

Laika seemed uncomfortable and was pacing around the house. She didn't want to lay on her bed, so I put a sleeping bag on the floor and laid with her to calm her down. She pressed her body against me, but still seemed upset. Soon, she started whining softly, then whimpering and finally crying! I was alarmed. She was always so stoic and now she must be suffering from pain! I immediately felt guilty for putting her through this trauma. I also thought that maybe I forgot her painkiller or some other important piece of post-surgery treatment. How could I do this to her? Looking at the paper again, I realized that she was allowed food if she was no longer groggy. I quickly put half a meal in her bowl. At the sound of the food container being opened, Laika's eyes got brighter and she immediately sprang-up, started licking her lips and "ran" toward me. She ate as if she had never seen food before. She licked the bowl for a good 5 minutes after inhaling the partial meal. Then, as if she hadn't just had surgery, she casually walked to her bed and happily laid-down.

As it turns out (and would repeat time and time again), Laika's most traumatic experience was that of an empty stomach! While watching her eat with such gusto and joy, even in such a hard time, I laughed out loud and couldn't contain my smile. Laika proved that she could fight cancer and stay strong through surgery, but she couldn't do it on an empty stomach! Her crying that I thought was because of the procedure was actually just pangs of hunger. I was relieved and very amused. Never again did I wait as long to give her food after she had been fasted. I couldn't bear to see such a hungry lady after surgery!

Story 20: Damaged Brake Pads

Whoo! I can't believe this is already the 20th story celebrating the life of my Baby Girl! Each day, there are a flood of memories about things Laika and I used to do together. It is comforting in a lot of ways, especially since I am looking at each of the episodes with a different perspective. Nothing is ever old, it is all reborn in my mind in the frame of the present moment. I am happy to be able to share all of these thoughts, stories and feelings as Laika's legend continues...

Yesterday, I started skateboarding again. I had been meaning to get back on the board for a while, but never really had the time before. It is a good way to focus. I am not good at it, but there is a certain aspect of meditation to it that requires "being in the moment" that I need right now. The place that is my new skate park (a.k.a. a flat, paved lot) is right next to the tennis court were Laika and her friend Carly frolicked.*

Carly is the dearly departed companion of my friends Steph and Chris. Much like Laika, she was a brindle pitbull mix that started life with the deck stacked against her. She was abandoned and mistreated. Steph and Chris adopted her and inspired a complete transformation...even helping Carly to become a certified therapy dog at some local senior homes and hospitals! She and Laika were friends the first time they met. They loved to run around together in Steph and Chris's backyard like complete fools. Usually they were so spent from running and barking, they they would lay on the ground panting, tongues hanging out of their mouths in the dirt! It was great fun to see them so excited and full of energy. They were like two peas in a pod.

Since Laika and Carly were constantly tearing-up the backyard, we decided to bring them to play in a neutral site while the sod was being replanted. The play area was an old, smooth tennis court which had fallen into disrepair, but still had a net. It was completely fenced-in and offered a nice area for the two beasts to run. [Note: This was before signs prohibiting dogs in the area, so no rules were being broken. I swear.] Laika and Carly loved it! They ran and ran and ran and chased tennis balls. They were being as insane as usual. Laika would constantly be running too fast that she skidded each time she cornered or stopped. Also, she didn't see the net across the court and ran right through it at full speed! Steph and I watched with bated as she did this, because, well, we were worried Laika would get hurt...or even catapulted backwards (like in the cartoons)! As luck would have it, the net was not attached at the bottom, so it gave little resistance. However, since Laika was such a wrecking ball, I figured even if it was attached, she would have plowed through it. Nothing could slow her down! I think Steph and I were just as tired as the pups from chasing them and laughing so much.

After playtime was over, I loaded a completely exhausted Laika into the car. It wasn't until I got home that both of us realized she was injured...her skidding on the pavement had torn-up the pads of her paws! Poor girl! Laika was wincing from the soreness and crying a bit with each step. I felt so bad for her, but luckily I knew what to do. This had happened before, on a different kind of surface, so I lovingly carried my baby up the stairs into the ICU...I mean, bathroom. The first part was the worst, because a few of the pads were hanging and there was also some debris in the wounds. I put Laika in the tub and quickly cut the hanging pads with nail clippers. Laika kept a straight face. After that, I used a bit of hydrogen peroxide to clean the pads. Laika was upset by the stinging and cried out in pain. I felt so bad! But, as I had learned from my mistakes the first time this happened, I needed to wipe them immediately after with a warm washcloth to mitigate the burning.

Laika was upset and uncomfortable. She was looking at me with sad eyes, but also with her usual stoic "I can handle it, dad" look (that she perfected later in life with all of her treatments and hospital visits). Laika was a tough cookie, though. I was just worried because taking care of her paw pads was sensitive business and I didn't want her to be in any more pain that she was already enduring. The next part was her favorite. I had learned that the gooey paw wax called Musher's Secret, which was originally made for treating the pads of dogs exposed to ice, snow and salt, was excellent for growth and health of pads. It was also extremely soothing. Laika smiled and relaxed as I slathered her wounds. She didn't usually like me touching her paws, but this was an exception.

After her brake pads were thoroughly treated, Laika's eyes and spirits brightened! Although she was limping a bit from the pain, she was ready for treats and even wanted to go out to pee. Laika's body was a medical miracle in itself. Her ability to heal and high tolerance for being uncomfortable were just two of her amazing attributes that aided her in fighting such a long, heroic battle with cancer. I am glad that she trusted me to help heal her wounds. In a day or two, she was ready to rumble again; she didn't have to be patient as a patient for long! All in all, it only took 4 days total for her pads to heal with the help of the Musher's Secret. Very impressive! After this, all off-leash running on non-grass surfaces was forbidden. Luckily, the new grass was ready to be tested again a few weeks later!

Despite Laika's stoic demeanor, there was one time that I thought she was in great pain... (to be continued)

A very happy Laika (left) and Carly in their younger days. The yard even had grass!

Laika (center, with safety shirt!) and Carly (left) playing in the remnants of Steph and Chris's backyard. Cliffy (bottom right) and Shiloh (only tail can be seen) are also pictured.

*I skated in the tennis court in the evening after the first draft of this was written. It is a nice place to fall down...I mean, skateboard. Yeah, that's what I mean.

Story 19: Wire Watcher

Among animals that Laika was fascinated by (read as "hated"), squirrels were on top of the list. From the first time she laid eyes on their big, bushy tails, she would become like Robocop or Terminator in their presence; her fur on her back would start to rise, her ears would stand up straight and an almost perfectly round ball of fur would puff-out right near the base of her tail! When on leash, she would also immediately pull it tightly and try to lunge in all directions. Scientifically, I would break her emotions down to following: 30% anxiety, 30% rage, 20% excitement, 10% playfulness and 10% confusion. As you can see, a volatile mix. (She would even sound a high-pitch bark/whine when she would turn the amps to 11!)

Laika's first encounter with squirrels was on neighborhood walks. At first, I couldn't tell if she was just really anxious from being on leash and directed it at the squirrels, or if she honestly disliked them for some reason. She would see them on the ground or on low trees and immediately would turn from Dr. Heckyll into Mrs. Jive (this is a Men at Work reference). I tried to counteract her seeming aggression by giving her treats when she would see a squirrel; a practice which actually helped to pacify her for a while. But, as we all know by now, Laika was a quick study...and in a matter of weeks she gathered enough surveillance to decode the true secret of squirrels: most of the time, they hang out on telephone and power lines.

This discovery was kind of a game changer for her. I assume since we lived on the second floor, she started seeing squirrels outside of the windows on the wires and then applied this knowledge to her behavior on walks. As soon as we would leave the house, if she didn't see some ground-level object or creature to inspire her tail-puff, she would begin walking around gazing up toward the wires! Laika was kind of too smart for her own good in this regard. Thus, she became quite a squirrel-spotter...a certified squirrel-hound, if you will. She never actually caught one, or got really close because she was on leash, but, boy, could she try. I think it was her nose for squirrels that forced me to switch to a harness for her, which was easier to control her pulling (and safer for her, too).

I can remember one time that she spotted a squirrel on a wire and it literally got the last laugh. We were walking down Winebiddle St. (a block parallel to our place on Gross St.) on a nice autumn day. Despite the cool breeze and the smell of leaves, Laika had her mind sent on one thing: squirrels. I didn't even hear anything while we were walking, but suddenly, Laika's head shot up. There was a squirrel on the telephone lines directly over us! She started to freak out and let out a few screeches while jumping around. The squirrel, meanwhile, was ready with its counterattack...it dropped an acorn almost directly on us and then started laughing. Yes, laughing. Picture Alvin, Simon or Theodore chuckling at Dave's hapless antics and there you have it...only this was a bit more malicious. Laika looked a bit confused, but then became kind of furious and even barked at it. The squirrel just sat there on the wire, proclaiming it's victory as I pulled Laika away in our defeat.

Laika wasn't all hate, though. In fact, squirrels did provide endless entertainment for her. If our back windows were televisions, Laika was a fan of the one and only channel. Most of the shows featured squirrels running on the garage roof. But, once in a while, Mr. Cat would make a cameo which was potentially the highlight of the week. (In fact, certain seasons also featured whole feral cat families! Ratings for those were, obviously, off the charts.) Laika learned that she could watch these "shows" all the time if she sat on one of the dining room table chairs and pressed her face against the glass. Did I mention she was smart? It is odd, because aside from wagging her tail from time to time or shaking with a bit of excitement, she was pretty calm when observing from inside. It really seemed like entertainment to her and she would sit there for hours at a time, contentedly watching As the Squirrel Turns (I know, bad pun).

As Laika aged, other dogs and cats replaced squirrels as her public enemy #1. Still, she would get a shock of excitement when she saw squirrels on the neighbors' fences or high up in trees. Most of the time, she would let out a few yelps, wag her tail and make eye contact with me to announce that she still cared...or simply turn to look at me while proudly puffing out her cheeks with a satisfying smile. Laika never completely forgot the check the wires on our walks, either. This habit stayed with her for her entire life. I always found it to be pretty amazing that she was able to teach herself where to look for and also where to watch squirrels!

Waiting...watching.

Story 18: The Crate Escape

Laika was an active pup, always on the move. She never really liked to slow down, despite our daily walks and plenty of playing with her toys. But, like all young dogs, she was constantly getting into mischief...which happened to be a lifelong phase for Laika! Because of this, I tried to crate train her from the beginning. Tried is the operative word, as we will see.

When Laika adopted me, she moved into my apartment with a gifted crate from a friend. It was pretty big, but not especially solidly constructed. After helping to crate train our family dog Buddy, I was familiar with the process. At first, the crate was kept in my room because she was sleeping in it at night, just to make her comfortable. After she woke up, ate and went out, she was only in the crate during times that I was away. Luckily, I lived close to work, so I would return on my break each afternoon to feed Laika, play with her and go for a quick walk together. Things were going pretty well with her training, despite the fact that she wasn't always super excited to go in the crate. As noted in earlier stories, her loved of treats was harnessed to reinforce this process.

Soon, Laika graduated herself to sleeping outside of the crate in my room. She was very good at night and loved to snuggle in bed with me. After this, I moved the crate to the dining room, as it was brighter, had more windows that could open and was generally a better location. For a while, Laika was tolerant of this set-up, but after a week or so (if my memory serves me correctly), I came home to find the crate completely mangled! Laika was still inside, wagging tail, happy to see me and acting as if nothing happened...but she had used her powerful legs, jaws and head to render the crate totally and utterly useless. Goodbye, crate #1.

Enter crate #2. This crate came along with a pitbull named Kenyon that Missy had liberated from a family in Toronto (after the pitbull-ban had taken effect). He was re-homed to another, very caring family in our local area, but they didn't need the crate. Luckily, this came around the time that Laika destroyed the first one. Crate #2 was a bit smaller and had a plastic tray at the bottom, but was still roomy enough for Laika. The bars were thicker, so it gave me a false sense of security that it might last...

The first few days were fine. Laika seemed to accept her new "home" as she routinely did, with a look of slight defeat. She did like to nest in the blankets at the bottom, though. I think around the 3rd or 4th day, I came home from work only to be greeted by a wiggling puppy at the top of the stairs! Yes, Laika had somehow broken out of the crate...eaten a few apples and pooped on a powerstrip! Upon inspecting the crate, it looked as if she somehow opened the latch from the inside. I was baffled at how she figured it out, but determined to outsmart her, I put extra hooks and latches on the front door. We both knew that I was challenging her! How could she escape maximum security?

Well...apparently, it was pretty easy for her. Laika was a problem-solver and when she was confined suddenly became Houdini-dog. I got the feeling that when she was not in her crate, she was constantly thinking about how to get out...and what she would eat or play with when she did. Since the front of the crate was reinforced, Laika did the not-so-obvious thing next. She flipped the crate over, bent the lower edge and actually surfed out of the crate on the plastic tray! Again, she was happily waiting for me at the top of the stairs the next day, leaving me a nice poop in a not-so-obvious location. The gleam in her eye when I got home told me that she was ready for the next test.

My next move was what I hoped to be my checkmate. I reinforced the front door with extra hooks and latches. Laika watched curiously, thinking and figuring how she would win. That day, I came home and she was again waiting for me. But, this time, under the computer table among huge piles of debris shaking with fear. She knew I would be upset, because not only did she break out of the crate, but she thrashed every last bit of recycling (bottles, mail, circulars), tore-up her pillow and broke into my roommates room, feasting on some food in his trash. (Why my vegan roommate had half-eaten chicken wings in his trash is still a mystery to me.) I was more frustrated that Laika had out-smarted me by flipping her crate again and more concerned about what she could have eaten than I was mad at her. She already was scared, so I just cleaned everything up and we went on with life. The whole time, I was thinking of how to win the crate battle.

The slightly mangled crate was then fortified more. All corners and joints were reinforced with "endless links," which are chain links that unscrew in the middle to allow a chain to be linked to itself. I think they are rated at like 200 lbs test load. The last round, Laika got the best of them, though! This time, was different. For my finale, I screwed large eyelets into the baseboard behind the crate and anchored it to the wall. Laika looked on with a curious, icy stare stare...I could see the wheels in her brilliant mind turning. The next day, I came home to find Laika still in the crate. She was asleep and secure. It looked like she had tried her old trick to escape, but gave up after she realized she could no longer flip it. Victory was finally mine! Laika gradually warmed to the crate and would even hang out in it on her own when she was tired.

Around this time, she started to get more comfortable in the apartment and with me, too. It was awesome to feel that she was trusting me more and as a result, she got more freedoms in the house. I think Laika finally knew that our battle with the crate was to help her and she no longer schemed her great escapes. Instead, she moved her attention to more important things....squirrels. To be continued tomorrow...

I want to note that this is the first picture I ever saw of Laika. It was love at first sight. This was taken shortly before I met her, while Missy's boss was taking care of "Baby Girl" (a.k.a. Laika). 

Story 17: Switching Places

Looking through old photos, I came upon this pretty hilarious image of me in Laika's crate. The background of this story, however short, will be today's story...

Before Laika had mastered the Art of Not-Begging, she was completely insane for anything that anyone was eating. I can attribute this to her being abandoned on the street as a young pup and having to fend for herself. As a result, she was hungry at all seconds of every day. This was nice, as food became a good reward for her training, but it also meant that she was constantly buzzing around the kitchen with an expectant eagerness that would put even the most hopeful optimist to shame. Her tail would be wagging just from thinking about Elaina (my roommate at the time) or I maybe thinking about eating something. Heisa, Elaina's dog, was way more chill and didn't really have the zest for all things edible that possessed Laika to the core of her soul.

Peanut butter. This was Laika's "holy grail" of treats. She would do pretty much anything to enjoy just a taste or even a waft of it...including paying attention on walks! It was like her Pied Piper. She would be entranced and follow it anywhere. Did I mention that she really liked it?

Peanut butter. This is my favorite kind of cookie. I would do pretty much anything to eat a peanut butter cookie. One time, I did something nice for Elaina and she said she would make cookies. I said I would like peanut butter cookie dough...because, well, vegan cookie dough is the best (and contains no raw eggs)! In that instance, I ate half of the cookie dough, only to find out later that I had eaten 2 dozen cookies-worth. Oof. I wonder where Laika got her love of peanut butter AND gluttony from? No idea.

On this particular day (as pictured), peanut butter cookies were actually baked. This meant two things: 1. I did not eat all of the dough...only most of it, and 2. Laika was in a state of ecstasy for the entire duration of the cookie making process; from the moment the jar opened, through the wafting of the delicious scents and, finally, until the cookies were edible. She was always given a few globs of peanut butter when it was opened, but this day she was in full-on, mouth-watering mode with anticipation level pushing the limits.

Baked cookies were not a treat for Laika. I always joked that they were part of the NFL...the "Not For Laika" treats, as they were too sweet. Laika did NOT need sugar! As such, when the cookies were done, I needed to resort to (somewhat) privacy while enjoying them. Since Laika was glued to me like a hungry shadow, I decided to turn the tables and get some privacy in her crate! So, I took a cookie and locked myself inside. At first, Laika and Heisa were a bit confused as to why I was in the crate, looking at me with cocked heads. But her undying love of peanut butter got the better of Laika, quickly pressing her overly-active nose against the bars and licking her lips wildly. I found it hard to eat the cookie while laughing at the extreme close-up view of Laika's peanut butter frenzy. I felt like a diver in a shark cage!

Needless to say, Laika didn't get any of the cookie that day. She did get to give me a lot of kisses and was, without a doubt, given tons of treats and more peanut butter after my escape from the crate. I was not trying to tease her with my act, but it definitely gave me some new perspective (of Laika's peanut butter love) and a brief opportunity to switch places!

Story 16: Luddite for Life - Laika vs. Technology

Although Laika really enjoyed some of the finer products of the technological revolution (a/c, the car, fans), throughout her life she was more of a Luddite. In fact, at times, she did her best to actively destroy technology through various bodily functions and her strong jaws. This story is actually a few stories combined, so get ready!

The first day that I took Laika back to my apartment in early 2007, she was having so much fun playing with my friends and I. We were all sitting in the dining room, petting her and watching her run around with toys; all the while with a huge smile on her face. Suddenly, she disappeared from the room for a few minutes to go explore the apartment alone...or so I thought. About 10 minutes later, I went to get something from the living room and noticed that she had pooped directly in front of the TV. Oh well, accidents happen. Then, I went into the half-room, which had my roommate's gaming systems, and saw that Laika had pooped directly in front of the TV there as well! This seemed planned, but I couldn't be sure, until...Several weeks later, Laika managed to break out of her crate (because she was too smart) and, after eating several apples off the kitchen counter, left her mark(s) again; this time, directly on the power strip of the living room TV and, again, in front of the TV in the gaming room. This was no coincidence, this was the beginnings of Laika's on-going, four-legged war with technology.

Laika's next battle was fought with the other end: her teeth! I am not much of clean-freak, but vacuuming became necessary after adopting Laika. As soon as she would hear the noise, she would transform from tail-wagging, happy lady to full-on snarling beast. She would then lay in wait to attack the vacuum and bite at the rubber bumper parts; at times, even hitting the power-button, to which she would give an extremely proud look; thus proclaiming her victory. As soon as it would start again, it was back to the front lines for her. I would reprimand her and tell her "no," but it was to no avail. It was too funny. I think Laika finally listened when my mom scolded her once, but it was short-lived. After about 8 years, Laika gave up her active fight and soldiered-on through her own "cold war" (as noted by her icy, watchful gaze) against the vacuum.

Laika also exhibited some other on-going Luddite tendencies. I should have mentioned this many stories ago, but it is kind of surprising that I have as many clear photos of Laika as I do. She had some sort of 6th sense when it came to people trying to take photos of her. She would constantly move or turn away just at the click of the shutter. It was kind of uncanny. Additionally, she, one time, hid my mp3 player in deep her the blankets of her bed. I seriously thought that she swallowed it, but, luckily, that was not the case. When it was discovered, I was relieved, despite the several bite marks that the cover had sustained.

This last story kind of takes the cake, though. Laika was staying at Missy's house for a few nights while I was away in Ohio (I think), probably 4 years ago. The first night and day, everything was fine. (I chalk this up to Laika secretly planning her attack, though!) The next night, Missy went out for a few hours only to return home to a war zone; finding the aftermath of Laika's anti-technology campaign that, this time, was waged with both ends! According to Missy's account, Laika broke into Ramona's food and ate a few pounds of it. Following this initial act of gluttony, she then proceeded to have diarrhea all over a pile of various computer cables that was in the corner of the room (this has since been dubbed "diarrhea spaghetti"). From there, Laika unzipped Missy's laptop case, removed the laptop and hid it under the couch. Of course, this timeline is purely speculative, but one can assume that the food was eaten first.

Missy was furious (and rightly so). She said that Laika was more or less unrepentant, but the real concern at first was that the laptop was missing. After a few minutes of searching, Missy found it under the couch in a relatively safe state, save a few teeth marks in the case! Laika, was, of course, fine from her gluttonous, destructive rampage and was probably pretty proud of the damaged she had inflicted against technology that day. In the future, Laika was not allowed in Missy's house unsupervised. This was ok, as we lived only a few blocks apart and when Missy was nice...I mean, brave...enough to watch her again, Laika would stay at our house during the workday and while Missy was out.

What started as a few poops in front of TVs, obviously became a life-long war for Laika. She did her best, with her given weapons, to do battle against technology. As Missy and I often joked, Laika was actually not from this planet. She was sent here to learn about the ways of Earth and then return to the mothership with a full report. Perhaps these acts were ways for her to communicate with the rest of the space-dogs...or, perhaps, she really just didn't like electronics and clean houses! Join me tomorrow as we, again, journey into The Twilight Zone...

 

 

Story 15: (Photographic evidence of) The Blanket Monster

In sort-of continuation from yesterday, I think today would be a good time to note Laika's love of all things blanket. In cold weather, she loved to burrow in blankets. In hot weather, she loved to burrow in blankets. In in-between weather, she loved to burrow in blankets. Pretty much anytime, Laika could be found under or surrounded by a blanket. Her ability to make herself "snug as a bug in a rug" was legend among my friends and parents (and scourge among my tattered blankets). She was, indeed, the Blanket Monster. (see Photo 1)

Laika had perfected the art of burrowing. She would kneed and pull and push (and sometimes tear) all types soft bedding (blanket, sleeping bag, comforter) to achieve maximum warmth and comfort; using all of her limbs, including head and tail! As previously mentioned, Laika was not quiet by any means, so it often sounded as if the entire room was being thrashed and rearranged. Despite this sometimes terrific noise, her ability to completely cover herself (as seen in the multiple accompanying photos) was nothing short of amazing.

Laika, like many terriers (I've been told), was very focused when she needed to be...especially when it involved some sort of task. Every time she started burrowing, the look on her face was of sheer determination. She would kneed and pat and dig with artistic flair, making sure that no part of her "canvas" remained un-thrashed! After being satisfied with the initial pass, she would then either circle within the blanket, thus creating a "dog nest," (see Photos 2 & 3) or flip the blanket over her body using her snout then wrap herself like a pitbull-rito. Finally, sighing heavily, she would immediately relax and drift off into dreamland as soon as her job was done! Did I mention that Laika loved being warm and cozy?

As noted in the last story, I never really had a bed of my own. Laika claimed it for hers early on. It was pretty easy to tell that "my" bed it was her favorite place to sleep during the day because I would constantly come home to find freshly made Laika "nests" on it. The precision with which they were made was always impressive and simply discovering them would make me smile and sometimes laugh-out-loud. It was odd, because she never used the same "nest" twice. If she woke up and moved, she would remake it before going to sleep again. Laika was obviously a perfectionist (or ritualist) in this regard.

A few times, I would be doing something in the house and she would somehow quietly burrow in the blankets in one of the other bedrooms or on the couch. She did such a good job wrapping herself that it was shocking to go looking for her and almost not see her. One specific occasion (many years ago) I had friends who played in a band staying with me. Laika was super excited to see them, but after lots of attention she got tired and retired to my room. About 30 mins later, one of my friend was walking past my room and decided to check in on Laika. I was quickly called to witness the scene. At first, I just saw a pile of blankets, but as I looked closer, I spied the itty-bitty the tip of Laika's brindle snout barely peaking out of the folds. It was breathtaking that she had managed to wrap herself so tightly and expertly. Luckily, there is photographic evidence of this masterful work! (see photos 4 & 5)

After discovering this amazing skill of Laika's, I started sleeping with more blankets on (or near) the bed. This was necessary, as she was both the Bed Hog and the Blanket Monster. She paid no heed to me when she started her burrowing. At times, she would just unwind the blanket from my body and leave me in the cold! Telling her "no" didn't really help at those points, so I would just have an extra blanket near the bed to cover myself. It was a good plan that rarely backfired...except on the off-chance that she wanted to build another nest! Still, in extremely cold weather, her roles as snuggler and bed-warmer were magnified by employing multiple blankets with her burrowing.

As usual, Laika's joy in making herself comfortable knew no bounds. She loved nothing more than lazing around on a bed or couch wrapped snugly in a blanket. It was her duty, it was her dharma; which she did happily with one-pointed focus...with her whole body...with her whole being. It was funny and inspiring to see her at work and then at complete peace, asleep and secure in the "nests" she would make for herself.

Photo 1. Blurry photo of mythical Blanket Monster.

 Photo 2. The rarely seen dual blanket "nest."

Photo 3. Perfect specimen of "Laika nest."

Photo 4. Do you see Laika?

Photo 5. Strategically placed air hole in Laika's pitbull-rito.

A Letter To Laika: Another Week

Laika,

Today was a big solar eclipse. It wasn't as spectacular as I thought it might be. I don't think you would have really liked it, because you always loved laying directly in the warmth sun when you had the chance. Today, the sun was partially blocked and it seemed like we were bathed in a semi-shadowy twilight for most of the afternoon. Maybe I wasn't so impressed, because this has been my state of mind since the minute we parted.

Each day, your memories flood my mind and heart at unsuspecting times: when shopping for spices and herbs, when opening jars or bags, when hearing strange sounds outside the house and even when opening the backdoor and smelling the wet grass. Sometimes, even for a split second, I think I will turn around in the kitchen and you will be laying happily on the cool floor, just watching me with the same interested, yet content, look in your eyes.

Telling a funny or endearing story about you each day makes me so happy. Your spirit was always so joyous and alive, even in your darkest times. I am completely without doubt that your soul has continued on its journey to spread love to others, who will also, undoubtedly, be thankful for the time they will be able to share with you. Such unconditional love as yours is a true gift to the world, in whatever form you are embodied.

The other day, I was driving home and saw a couple walking two beautiful dogs. As I approached, I saw that the larger of the two dogs was wearing a very tight muzzle. I made me think of all the failed "training" that I tried to make you behave on walks. A few tears welled-up in my eyes at that memory. It brought forth the lesson that punitive techniques never worked, listening and being in the moment with you was the only way to train both of us. I am not sure why I even thought of this, but as the clouds of the sadness passed, I was thankful again that I remembered this lesson that you taught me so many years ago.

I am trying to find more positive ways to integrate all of these lessons into my life and fill the void left by your absence with unconditional love for all things. Some days I feel so promising. Other days just feel kind of numb. I do not want to wallow in sentimentality, but I also am still processing how best to live with your memories and honor your existence while also moving forward on my own path. At times, I call on your courage and strength and, at other times, I call on the feelings of love and duty that kept us both going throughout your battle with cancer. Laika, you were able to live for the love of others, so now it is my turn to go forth in your fine example.

I miss you so much...but I am still learning from you so much.

Love,

Dad

Story 14: Bed Hog

I used to joke with my friends that came to my old house that Laika had four beds and I had none. In hindsight, this was both funny and very true! She had a lounger/hammock bed on the first floor, the couch, a bed in various states of disrepair (from digging/arranging) in my room and, finally, "my" bed. I put this in quotes because she was home more than me and, as will be told at a later date, left clues that she spent a lot of time there.

When Laika was a puppy, I actually had a twin size bed that I had lofted about 3' because my previous bedroom was very small (my friends called it my "racecar bed," since it was not fit for an adult). Naturally, when I started taking care of Laika, she was crated at night and had a daybed mattress under my loft. As she graduated from the crate, she moved to the mattress under my bed and, in essence, we had bunk beds! Laika was quite a jumper, so she quickly began to jump on my bed and sleep there with me. This made space pretty tight, but Laika easily found a spot (sometimes at my inconvenience). [I know some people don't like dogs to sleep on their beds and think it is weird, but, like, whatever...it is nice!]

I soon graduated to a hand-me-down full size mattress from my parents' guest room, which was awesome. I was almost a real adult at this point. Not only did I have a "regular" bed, but there was plenty of room for Laika as well. As it turns out, Laika was quite egalitarian in her sharing of the bed. She got exactly half and I got exactly half. It would have been really great, except Laika's half was the middle half! Despite the larger bed, Laika enjoyed constantly being in the geometric center of it. Even if she would start out at the foot of the bed or near an edge (which rarely happened), she would soon claim the center and push me to the edge. (Is this the definition of "push-over"?)

This is why I started to make the joke that I had no beds at the house. I could really only occupy 25% of my bed at a given time. But, given that Laika was a great cuddler and kept the bed super warm in the winter (as a kept it cool to save money), I was ok with having an edge only. In addition, until more recent years, Laika would sleep a lot later in the morning if I let her stay in my bed. This was nice, as she used to wake-up super early to eat and then sleep in bed with me after she went out. Certainly, food was the major motivator for her, but she did also like re-sleeping in my bed after going out. It was a win-win, as I ended up getting about an extra hour of sleep each night!

After Laika started her chemotherapy last December, she was sometimes a bit uncomfortable after IV treatments and on nights that she took her at-home pills. However, once she would calm down, she would fall asleep quite quickly. It was disconcerting to see her pacing around, knowing that her body and spirit were waging an endless war against the cancer within. At these times, wherever she wanted to sleep was fine with me. If she fell soundly asleep on my bed, I would not disturb her for fear that she might wake up in some sort of pain. Although, I could usually tell by the rhythm of her breath and content look on her face that she was finally feeling at peace and comfortable. I would then just sleep on the floor of my room, until she woke me up to go out (usually about 4 hours), then we would go back to sleep on the bed together. It was a good routine and I got very accustomed to sleeping on the floor.

After we recently moved to the new house, this routine didn't change much. Though Laika did have a new lounger/hammock bed in the bedroom and would also sometimes sleep in front of the fan. As she started to exhibit more signs that her body was slowing down, I started sleeping on the floor with her the whole night. She would move around a bit, but usually would stay close to me. It was nice and felt like the old times when I first got my "adult bed."

Now that she is gone, it is really weird sleeping in "my" bed. Not only do I have the whole thing to myself, but Laika's snoring and kicking and warmth are gone. Like all other things, it is too quiet and the expected comfort of sleeping alone is far from being there. It is just another void that I am trying to come to grips with that used to be occupied by an eternally goofy bed hog who staked her claim firmly in the middle of my bed and my existence.

 

Story 13: Lover of Herbs & Tomato Pilferer

As previously told, Laika was vegetable- and fruit-centric in her love of food. She was a gourmand AND a glutton, but with a higher taste. When I was younger, my dad used to joke that our family dog Buddy loved to smell the flowers around the mailbox...most likely because they were marked by every other dog in the neighborhood. Laika, on the other hand, actually did like the finer scents of fresh herbs...and taste of on-the-vine tomatoes.

I will now present several supporting details to this postulation. I used to take Laika to play with my friends Chris and Steph's three brindle pitbull mixes (Carly, Cliffy and Shiloh) in their backyard. These three "pals" were a sight to see, given their very similar markings. When Laika and I first started going to their house, it was just her and Carly. Then, Cliffy came into the fold when he was adopted. Next, it was Shiloh, who didn't particularly get along with Laika but learned to tolerate her. The dogs' playing usually involved running around like lunatics, jumping, yelling and tearing up the yard.

After a few years, there was a new backyard addition: fresh tomatoes and herbs. Laika was immediately entranced. She would sometimes try (and succeed) to break into the fenced-in veggie garden (that also contained a few herbs as well). She would steal a tomato or two, munching on them happily after pilfering them. Given her less than graceful approach to the veggies, she would usually trample a few plants. This caused Chris and I great amusement, but resulted in a scolding for Laika and stronger fortifications for the veggies.

Around the same time I would also catch Laika stealing grape tomatoes from the plants behind my house. When I caught her chewing them, mouth full, I would ask, "Laika, what are you eating?" She would immediately turn, blank-faced and pause her chewing, as if to say, "I'm not eating anything." Even when I would inspect her mouth, she would masterfully hide the tomatoes under her tongue; continuing to munch happily after my inquisition. But, the evidence of the seeds in her poop was a tell-tale sign that she was eating them. (NOTE: Do not "secretly" eat things with seeds if someone else is picking-up after you.)

I should also mention that my backyard was kind of like a plant orphanage. I highly suspected that neighbors brought unwanted veggies and herbs to my yard under cover of night, thinking that I would take care of them. Needless to say, this meant that some wild, unknown, yet aromatic herbs were always growing. Laika would usually like to rub up against them after sniffing them, which produced very nice scents. I thought she might be enjoying these just as coincidence from her interest in all things with strong odors. However, back at Chris and Steph's house I was proven otherwise. That growing season, they had decided on maximum security for the veggies and no security for the herbs, putting them in pots along the fence. The first time Laika and I went over after this arrangement, she was immediately drawn to all of the herbs, sniffing around them happily. The fresh dill was her favorite, wagging her tail vigorously while enjoying their scent. She notified us of this love by immediately pooping all over them. Chris and I almost fell over laughing. Laika then went about her business with the aromas of the other herbs, not caring about the free fertilizing she had just offered the dill. (Chris and I promised not to tell Steph about this. I think she just heard about it recently, despite the action occurring 3 years ago or more).

This love of herbs continued until the end of Laika's bodily life. Our last day spent together, I could tell that Laika was not feeling well, but she was still trying her best to be with me and follow me around as usual. The day before, I had made some Indian food that I wanted to take to my friend Lynda, so I took Laika with me as they loved to see each other. Although stiff and not quite acting like full-on Laika, she spent a wonderful hour exploring Lynda's front yard, eating grass and, naturally, sniffing and rubbing against the potted herbs on the front porch. Laika seemed to be happier than she had been all day, spending almost 10 minutes with the various herbs. She finally settled-down next to me emitting the wonderful aroma of rosemary with a blissful smile on her face as we listened to the guitar music wafting into the night air from some hidden balcony across the street. The herbs seemed to have calmed her and made her swelling body feel more at ease. I was so happy that she was finally comfortable; sharing her strong presence (and pleasant odor) with Lynda and I!

The other day, I was shopping for herbs and spices at an Indian grocery store and suddenly felt Laika's absence so heavily. Yesterday, looking through the cupboard at my parents' house for ingredients to make salad dressing, I found a container of rosemary. Again, I missed her so much. In her honor, I added it to the mix. I am comforted that in these small actions, the flavor of Laika's unique joys will continue to live on in both my heart and cooking.

Story 12: On a Roll

This story is about an old dog teaching herself new tricks. The first 9 years or so that I took care of Laika, I had at least one roommate and at times another furry friend living with us. Then, after Evan moved out in 2015, I lived alone with Laika in our old house. Not only did I finally have an extra room to offer my friends to stay in when they travelled to visit, but I also had an extra bed for Laika to lounge on with a strategically placed window for her to look out on the world. It soon became her favorite perch to watch for me to come home.

Another positive side effect was that I never had to close any doors in the house. At night, cool breezes filled the rooms, the a/c worked much better when needed, and, most importantly, I could use the bathroom (for all functions) without any fears. Laika would also take advantage of the cool, tiled bathroom floor for an occasional nap, as well. Life was simple. Life was good.

In the morning, Laika would sometimes just hang out in the bathroom while I showered and...did other...ahem...business (not necessarily in that order). As our routine as sole occupants of the house started to build, Laika learned new cues for many of our her daily activities. Sound and voice commands play a huge rule in training dogs (and ourselves), as evidenced by clicker-training and various learned tricks. Laika, the consummate student of life, quickly learned her favorite auditory cue: the unrolling of toilet paper.

When she was allowed to be anywhere in the house, she would usually like to lay on the carpet just outside the open bathroom door or just inside the door while I took my morning constitutional. She would sleep or wait patiently, as a walk or second breakfast (yes, she was a hungy lady) would inevitibaly follow. As soon as she heard the toilet paper start to roll, she would fly into action, tail wagging, body wiggling, sometimes telling me it was time to go with a quick howl. She would then take position at the top of the stairs (the bathroom was on the second floor) and wait at attention to accompany me on my way down. She learned this behavior after about only a week of our roommate-less existence.

This went on for over a year, until Bradley moved in and door again had to be closed. Sometimes Laika would already be asleep in the bathroom when I needed to use it, so I would just shut her in with me (remember, dogs like bad smells). She would obviously know the cue then, since we were in the same room. However, sometimes Laika was in the hall, on the other side of the closed door, amid other noises and distractions. Even then, as soon as I finished my business and the toilet paper started to roll, I would hear her tail loudly (and proudly) banging the wall outside the bathroom. I could also hear her stretch and loudly yawn as she readied herself for our impending walk (if it was a weekend) or bonus meal on weekdays (or during inclement weather). Opening the door, I would always see her at attention, waiting happily for me at the top of the stairs.

After we moved, she still had a reaction to the rolling of the roll, but given her condition, it usually just meant treats and hanging out in the backyard. Additionally, it was almost as if she was giving me a standing ovation for the deed that I had just done. Seeing her enthusiastic, eager eyes as I came out of the bathroom was really endearing and funny. Not only because of the situation, but because she had taught herself so quickly and enduringly that the roll (and the flush) were cues to get excited. Laika's ambition to learn, again, found joy in the most simple of things. It was (and is) a good lesson for me in finding joy and excitement in the minutiae of routine. And...of getting excited when the roll is rollin'. Thanks, Laika!

Friends of Laika 2: "Thanksgiving with Laika" by Juno

Last Thanksgiving, several of my friends accompanied myself and Laika to my parents' house. The following story and pictures are Juno's account of meeting Laika. Many thanks for sharing the story, Juno! Here it is:

My first acquaintance with Laika was at Andy's parents house in Thanksgiving, 2016. After patting her at the house, she gave me the most special greeting with her butt comfortably sitting on my feet. It was quite heavy since she was a big dog but you could also feel her happy and energetic spirit from her warm belly. While everyone was preparing the food, Laika did a very good job of making sure everyone knew her existence. She would walk around us and occasionally center herself in the middle of the kitchen. We really enjoyed her being around and Andy would feed her carrots to keep her less bored. 

After setting up everything, we sat down and started eating our Thanksgiving meal. Laika was being great company. She sat around us quietly, sometimes moved beneath the dining table and again laid on someone else's feet. I remembered she farted loudly while hanging around Andy. It was quite a funny moment. If I didn't know Laika was a good farter, I would have suspected the fart actually came from Andy. 

After the delicious apple pie and biscuits, we were content and sitting in the cozy living room. Andy and Laika were cuddling on the little bed that was originally just for Laika. It was very sweet to see that and I could tell they really love each other. 

I have never seen Laika again after this lovely dinner, but I still heard a lot about her from Andy weekly. Even though I've only met her once, I still feel like I knew her quite well from all those stories. 

It was such a shame that I couldn't meet Laika again before her departure. 

I know I will miss you Laika, the dog with the funny spirit and coolest personality.

Story 11: Mark of a Beauty Queen

Liaka's appearance as a full-brindle "pibble-lady" (thanks, Dr. Uri) was an endless source of compliments whenever I would walk her. As a youngster, it was good cover for her somewhat inconsistent behavior on walks. Yes, she would have anxiety/panic attacks, but apparently her beautiful patterning and wagging tail when she saw people she liked was a good way to fly under the radar of being judged too harshly by others, it seems.

Around the time Laika was a few years old, a small skin tag sprouted just below her nose on the left side of her face. As time went on, it got more noticeable until it finally started to get a bit irritated. At this point, it was one of her defining facial features, which I referred to as her "Cindy Crawford" beauty mark. Due to the irritation factor, I mentioned it at the vet during one of her regular appointments. Laika was apparently in need of some other treatment (I think it had was the removal of a gum epulis). So, they said they would cauterize the beauty mark as well, preventing it from coming back and get irritated.

Both treatments were successful. However, in a few months time, the "Cindy Crawford" returned. This time, it was not as big. I figured it was meant to be as it was now part of her lovely looks and it came back on its own accord. If a famous model could have a beauty mark, Laika could, too. So, I didn't make a big deal about it or mention it to the vet again. Laika continued the life of a brindle beauty queen.

About 4 years later, Laika needed some other surgery which required her to wear a cone during recovery.* The surgeon mentioned that she could easily remove the "Cindy Crawford" again if I wanted. Since this had become such a defining feature of Laika's appearance and it wasn't causing any problems, I said that I would rather not have it removed. She was already have surgery somewhere else, so why make her go through more.

Apparently, some wires got crossed and they did end up removing the beauty mark again. I was a little bummed when I picked her up, but it wasn't really worth complaining about. Laika, obviously, didn't seem to care. I've had a cauterized skin tag on my neck, and compared to stitches (which she had elsewhere), it was probably not as uncomfortable. So, Laika was again without one of her defining features.

Her face was pretty clear again for a few months, but one day I started to see her "Cindy Crawford" sprouting again. Laika's body was obviously determined to make her look like a model! (Sadly, her cancer was also as resilient.) Laika was back to looking like Laika. I missed the absence of the mark, since it was one of the reminders that no one is perfect, especially in appearance, and accepting what happens to the body without self-consciousness is key to happiness. Certainly, Laika lacked developed self-consciousness, as a result of birth, but it was nevertheless an important lesson. I've since not had some of my teeth "corrected," since, well, they function properly and are healthy. All of these imperfections are not part of my Self, they are just part of the body I'm in right now. As Laika's "Cindy Crawford" showed, imperfections will constantly reappear, but certainly contribute to our uniqueness and beauty.

*I think it was when she had a benign tumor in her ear, but I can't be sure. Too many surgeries! :(

Story 10: Zen and the Art of Not-Begging

I was mentally conflicted about which story to post today, but it kind of just came to me in a moment of...um...zen. As the previous nine stories have clearly introduced wonderful (and maybe not-so-wonderful) qualities of my dearly departed companion, I think the tenth story should address nothing. I am not trying to make this like an episode of Seinfeld, but I am talking about a higher level of nothing...where Laika just sat and existed...and waited for treats!

I was a child who had a desire for many things, and certainly did my fair share of nagging. This is probably similar behavior to many furry friends that vocally express interest and or actively beg for treats from their caretakers. As a former shelter volunteer, many dogs I would walk or play with would immediately ask for treats that they knew I had. Their body-language and vocalization would make it completely obvious. Laika, obviously, was not normal in this way.

As already illustrated in my stories and letter to her, she was quite active in trying to get food for herself, whether creating her own buffet on the table or howling when she was hungry for a full meal. Treats and trying to get "people food," as I have heard others call it, was a completely different game for Laika. She would rarely actively ask for treats. I think she might have been some sort of yogi (as evidenced by her role of teacher and meditation buddy), because she had somehow perfected the Art of Not-Begging.

I will now explain what I mean. When Laika was told that she was getting a treat, she would, of course, get really excited and wag her tail; pretty much running full-speed, body wiggling and wide smile to get it. However, if she heard the rustling of a bag, opening of any food container or the sound of crunchy food being eaten, she would sort of appear quietly near my feet. She would then sit perfectly still, looking at the ground about a foot in front of her. This would continue when I would try to make eye contact, but once in a while, she would steal a peak at her targeted treat. If I were sitting at the table eating, she would slyly position herself sitting next to my chair, back turned toward me, eyes fixed on the ground. It were as if she was waiting in a trance.

Although she obviously desired the treat, she never actually begged for it. Even if it was something she loved, like an apple, she would pretty much do the same thing, but it might involve a little more staring and maybe some actual mouth-watering. Still, she would just simply present herself as a possibility of a treat recipient. Given Laika's endless energy and drive to fulfill her needs/wants, I found this practice very zen-like in that she was being empty and still at a time when she was obviously very excited. Obviously, she would usually get part of what was being eaten, but it never affected her non-action of not-begging.

My friends and previous roommates marveled at this ability. Laika managed to turn her existence into a means of begging. But, at the same time, it was pretty much as anti-begging as it gets with hungrier-than-thou pups. In fact, given her insane reaction at mealtimes (as I will get to in a later story), it made her approach to treats all the more puzzling. Honetly, though, I think Laika's Art of Not-Begging probably made all of us give her even more treats. Because, while we knew she wanted to try what we were eating, she somehow presented herself devoid of that desire. I think this approach has worked at various points in my life, but, unfortunately, I am not a perfected being in this art. Laika was a true master, operating, again, on a higher plane.