In Memoriam
Shayna Maidela 1996-2008
Dear Shayna,
The other night when Barack Obama was elected president he re-affirmed his very campaign promise to buy his daughter’s a puppy when they moved to the White house. It reminded that my parents pretty much made the same bribe/promise to my sister and I when we made a huge move from Rhode Island to Virginia. Of course in my parents’ case, they took their sweet time to make good on that promise - it wasn’t until a few days after my 13th birthday that we received word from your breeder that your mommy had just had puppies and that my sister and I would be getting one as a Hanukah present in a few months.
I think that we were always pretty sure we were going to name you Shayna Maidela, Yiddish for “pretty girl.”
“But what if she isn’t pretty?” one of my classmates asked.
“She will be pretty to me.” I replied.
And you were. You were exquisite.
\ can still remember the day we got you. I could barely contain myself the entire day knowing today was the day I was getting a puppy. I remember the moment I first saw you, as the breeder let in the entire group of puppies and you made a beeline for my family, kissing all of us and wagging your tail. Your breeder later said she’d never seen a Canaan bond with its owners so fast, the breed is known for being aloof and standoffish to new people (and you would prove that that was your normal mode with dealing with strange folk)
Despite taking a shine to use initially, you seemed to have doubts about it when you realized we were taking away from everything you had ever known in your short life. You cried for most of the way home and at for many nights afterwards. There seemed to be a look of perpetual worry on your face, maybe you weren’t sure if you liked as much as you initially thought.
But eventually you warmed up to us and we learned how to deal with your quirks and make you feel welcome in the family. You were never obedient one, two of my most embarrassing memories involve you having accidents at the most inopportune times (once was at the house of a neighborhood boy that I had a crush on, the other during your obedience school test where you flunked out with a score of 6/200) but you were still a clever one, figuring out how to open all the doors in the house by jumping on your hind legs and pushing on the lever handles or opening the door to your crate by sticking your paw into the slats and pulling it open. Dad swore you knew how to count, at least once you had your 4 cookies in the morning you’d stop begging for more. You could catch a Frisbee in the air but actually fetching it and returning it to me was beneath your interests. (we used to joke about how you had ADD in dogs, but mostly I think you were just clever but lazy)
Sometimes I wonder if reincarnation were real, you used to be a cat. There was always something fluid and graceful about the way you moved, you’d sleep 20 hours out of 24, often hiding out of sight when it suited you and when you were awake you’d perch on your doggy pillow and follow the goings on of the house like you were the queen of this castle
.
I don’t doubt you were a bit of a spoiled princess but I never doubt that you were a loving sweet person too. We managed to teach you not to beg at the table but you’d always sit near it anyway with the hopes of getting a morsel or too or just to enjoy our company..
Despite your aloofness, independence I never doubted how much you loved your family. When I’d come home after long absences I’d be treated to a full body wag Nothing made your happier than taking walks with your whole pack, you’d keep looking around to make sure we were all sticking together. Whenever it was time for me to leave, you would see the suitcase and want me to give you some extra attention and loving before I left.
The last time I saw you, you were very sick and I could tell you didn’t have much time left. I thanked you then and I thank you again for being such a wonderful friend and a wonderful pet.
I still remember the night before we got you, my whole family was excited and talking about “Shayna this” and “Shayna that.” And then my sister got really sad for a moment and said “I’m going to be really sad when Shayna dies” and I reminded her that that wouldn’t happen any time soon. 12 years later, which is half my life and more than half of my sister’s it’s hard to imagine life without you there sunning yourself on the deck, sleeping in the closet, perched on your pillow. Even though you were an exceptionally quiet dog, your presence always filled the house and your absence will change it when I come home again. There is always the price of loving someone is to accept that we can lose them too and with dogs we know that day comes sooner than it should
.
Thank you for being my friend.
Love,
Jess