Lifelong Friends
During a late night conversation with my lost husky friend Archie he was showing me the usual ski resort imagery I had grown accustomed to seeing from him; chair lift poles and chairs, massive light structures, mechanical housings, and trees.
Archie had been surviving on his own in the woods, in bear and cougar country, for six weeks by then and had no intentions of being caught or seeking the help of people. Archie knew I had dogs of my own but on this particular night I decided to tell him the story of my dog Lily’s life, and how she came to be such a big part of mine.
Lily, and 71 of her inbred family members were living in an outbuilding the size of a two car garage. There were 7-9 dogs per run inside the outbuilding with 8 runs inside. Each run had a dog door with very limited access to the outdoors. All told there were 52 adult dogs and 20 puppies. All purebred American Foxhounds. These dogs had spent their entire lives inside these runs, living in their own feces and urine, in some places up to 8” deep. Many had urine scalds on their legs.
The dogs had never known a human aside from the owner of the dogs, a registered AKC breeder. They had never stepped on grass, walked through a door, slept on a bed, rode in a car, heard music, seen a tv, walked up steps, or seen a mountain, river or ocean. All they had ever known, for their entire lives, was misery. There was one deceased dog on scene and most of the puppies were so sick with parvo they didn’t make it.
Lily was, by far, the most fearful of all the dogs rescued from that horrific scene on October 17, 2012. During her time at Pasado’s Safe Haven, if someone walked into her kennel she would back herself up as far as she could against a wall, begin to convulse, and pass out. Her brain simply couldn’t handle the stress of a human approaching her.
When she came to my home as a foster she spent nearly two weeks in her crate in my master bathroom. Not by force, but because she was too scared to come out. With lots of time and patience, a deep understanding of her trauma and PTSD, and an acceptance that she would never be a “normal” dog she blossomed. I like to say she lived a very big life in her very small bubble.
I was her safe space. Eventually she could be trusted off leash because I knew that if she became scared she knew that I would protect her. Always. This wasn’t something that happened overnight nor was it something I took lightly. If you know me at all you know that throughout her life there was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep Lily safe and healthy.
I was telling Archie about Lily because I wanted him to know that he too, could trust me. We had been developing a relationship for weeks and I knew the emotional state he was in was very similar to Lily’s outside of her safety bubble; fearful, untrusting, running, feral. I wanted him to know that I was his friend no matter what - that I could be his (emotional) safe space.
Archie could sense a sadness in me as I was telling him more about Lily and asked me about it so I told him that Lily had passed recently. I told him about the aggressive cancer she had and all the western and eastern medicines, and shamanic treatments we did for her. How her prognosis was four months but we got eight. That I was heartbroken but that I communicated with her in spirit and how that makes me feel a little bit better.
And in that moment Archie - well, he held the most tender space for me and my grief. He was quiet and kind and loving. It was pure energetic feeling: no words were said, no images were sent. I simply felt him holding both mine and Lily’s energy - our souls - in the most gentle way. It wasn’t overpowering or overwhelming, it was almost a whisper, but it was there.
Then I received an image of an infinity loop nested between my heart and Lily’s heart and I knew in that moment that he was telling me that our love will go on for eternity. That love has no end, that she and I have no end.
And it was one of the most beautiful things anyone has ever said to me. I will be eternally grateful to Archie for helping me through my immense grief. He and I remain friends to this day.