(? - 2000)
Chibi will always be with us.
I had a Samoyed already, (Sushi) and was involved in Samoyed rescue, when a call came in one day about another one at our local Animal Shelter. They wanted me to evaluate the dog, but were initially not very encouraging, as she was bad condition, with a broken leg, and various other ailments. I went to the shelter and saw this matted grey dog, hobbling around on three legs, howling her head off in the cage. When I walked up to the kennel, she came over to me, closed her eyes and leaned against my hand with a huge sigh, as if she was saying "help has come". It seemed a shame to put a dog down because she had some matted hair and a broken leg, both were things that could be fixed with time and care. So I told the rescue group I would foster her while her leg healed, but that I would have to shave her, due to the condition of her coat. Shaving a Samoyed is about the worst thing you can do, especially when you hope to eventually place the dog with a family somewhere. After all, their hair is a major reason people are attracted to them, so if you cut it all off, very few people can look beyond the denunded dog of the present to the future stunning dog that will emerge. However, I had to do it, not only to have her leg set properly, but to allow the veterinarian a clear view of her body, to discover any other injuries and problems that might exist under all that mess. As suspected, along with the obvious broken leg, she had all sorts of issues including signs of previous untreated injuries, cuts, parasites and skin infections.
But perhaps her biggest challenges were behavioral-the dog would NOT shut up! She howled constantly the moment she was left alone, and once she healed, she proved to be a wanderer whenever she got a chance. I immediately called work and arranged for a two-week vacation (family emergency!) to train the dog out of her constant howling so that she was basically livable. During those two weeks, she also learned some beginning obedience because that was what I was teaching at the time, and I couldn't have a dog around me who wasn't well-behaved. The whole time, I intended to heal her and pass her on to another family who would love and cherish her, but at night, as I listened to this dog's whimpers and cries of terror, and watched her flee from any sign of conflict, I wondered how I could break the fragile bond of trust we were forming between us.
Well, Chibi ended up staying. After all, what's a little more white hair? As she became more relaxed and confident in my home, her personality began to flower, and her true talent as a healer and therapy dog emerged. Maybe it was her own difficult past that made her so intuitive, but she somehow knew who needed her, and exactly how to help. The stories of Chibi reaching out to formely uncommunicative people are many, and we actually received thank you cards from the families of several people who felt that Chibi had been especially important to the health and happiness of their family member. For me, success came at last when her sleep passed nightmare free, and her dreams became canine typical ones of rabbits and beach trips, and not the horror zones they had been.
Ah, sweet Chibi, the world is dimmer without your soft pressence. May you have peace and sweet dreams forevermore.