Reply #23: Well, you asked

[Robb]

He was the first dog I ever had. Huskies are in the family, so to speak... my aunt in Alaska is something of a Siberian nut, so once I decided, eight years ago now, to get a dog there was never any question what kind it would be. :)

So she started asking around to foundation kennels, and next thing I know this woman is calling me to interview me! After she decided I had it together enough to have one of her dogs, she told me she knew just the one, and would be giving him to me if I paid the freight.

"He's going to be very eager to please you," she said. That stuck with me ever since.

I drove six hours to the nearest airport big enough for the kid to have a nonstop flight. Drove back with him, in love for sure.

Peas and carrots, we were. I was 12 again. We'd run around the yard, I'd let him tackle me to the ground. Amazing agility. I hooked him up to pull sleds that first winter, he had never been with a team but instantly got along with the other dogs and pulled. Like he'd been doing it all his life. By the next winter he could just about get himself into his own harness.

I named him Bodhi, short for bodhisattiva, because he was indeed leading me down the path to enlightenment. Pulling me down it, full tilt.

It seemed after a few weeks while I was a ton of fun, I was no dog. I called the woman in Alaska, who acted like she was expecting my call and had another dog in mind, his sister. Krisha joined us about a month later.

For years he would be there. Eternally ready to play, he learned a trick where he'd sneak up behind me while I was sitting in the rocking chair, and jump up and put his paws on the back and send me over. Then he'd do a little spin and go down in that play pose, wagging his tail like a snake.

He loved pulling the sled. He would pull until his paws bled if I let him. Never let his line go slack, always working. Always excited when it was time to go out.

He was such a chick magnet, he and his sister. :) Walking them around town took forever, because everyone would stop us. He might've thought his name was "the most beautiful dog I've ever seen."

Bodhi would always find his way up onto the bed with me at bedtime. He'd get kicked off after a few rubs, but by morning he was always there, and my legs were usually asleep.

He was there for me when I was sad, he just knew. The empathy out of that dog was like nothing I'd ever come across. He just loved being with me, and in the end, when I knew he couldn't see me, all I could think to do was make sure my hand was in front of his nose so he could know by my smell I was there.

I miss him. I'm crying now.

Thanks, buddy.

Bodhi's little red butt on the right:


Krishna, some dingbat, and Bodhi: