We’ve discovered Biko’s superpower. Although he has a normal resting weight of 58 pounds within Earth’s gravitational field–well within normal parameters for a dog–if he is lying in my spot on the bed, he activates his special neutron star mass, becoming virtually immovable. We are researching more beneficial applications.
We were led to believe our dog, Biko, was Husky/Dalmatian, but I have a suspicion he is a rare coconut terrier. I tossed a dry coconut into the back yard and he had it husked in three days.
Who could have possibly picked a half-ripe tomato in the back yard, smuggled it into the bedroom and ate it on Midge’s robe on the bed? Somebody is sneaky around here.
My strange, little wife left her earrings outside in the cactus planter. Now I have one more place to check for abandoned earrings.
Misha, our beloved Siberian Husky and dear friend, passed away in the early morning on Sunday, 20 July 2008, of cardiac arrest secondary to the rapid onset of serious illness. A five-year resident of Palm Beach County, she was born in Noble, Oklahoma, on February 7, 2000, and spent her final hours at an emergency hospital in Deerfield Beach, Florida. She was the daughter of Redneck Rocky Runner and Nica-Pa’s Matzi Quiles. “Misha” is a common Russian nickname for Mikhail. She was named in honor of Mikhail Gorbachev, a man of peace, in hopes of a peaceful life.
Misha was a happy, loving dog and a constant, supportive companion. She was very tenderhearted and eager to please. Unusually large for a purebred animal, her weight peaked at ninety-nine pounds, although she hovered around a healthy adult weight of ninety for most of her life. Misha stood about thirty inches at the shoulder. She had a beautiful, wolf-like gray-and-white coat and expressive, amber eyes. Being uncharacteristically large, the familiar Husky howl came out of her as a deep bellow, sometimes mistaken by others as a growl.
Attacked twice as a puppy, she never trusted other dogs, except her dear childhood friend, our old Chow Chow, Mr. Zhong Shen. Misha may have lacked a love for most dogs, but her love for people showed no bounds. She was excited to meet new people; the more, the merrier. She remembered old friends and exuberantly greeted them after years apart. Misha seldom tired of petting, especially scrubbing her ears or scratching her cheeks and belly. She would frequently brace herself against you with her legs or hug your arm with a paw as you petted her.
Misha was extraordinarily smart, even for a Husky. She understood hundreds of words and knew her friends by name. She very accurately knew the time of day and what to expect. She liked to watch TV and could obviously discern what was on the screen. She had a well-developed sense of humor, an infectious laugh and a much-used grin. She liked to gently tease and would play the fool just to get you to laugh. Misha would not only look at the thing at which you pointed, rather than the end of your finger, but could distinguish between pointing at an object and pointing to where she should be, depending on the context of the situation. Unlike a lot of dogs, Misha would look deeply into your eyes and lock a gaze with you for as long as you like. And the tenderness in her eyes when you would cup her chin and kiss her muzzle would melt the hardest heart.
Misha barked less than a dozen times in her life. She only growled at three people and we shared her suspicion in those instances. She would sneak up and spy through the fence or the window, rather than bark at neighbors or strangers. She would gently rake her nails across the threshold of the door to be let in. If she really needed you, she had a charming, puppy-like yip which she used very sparingly.
Misha enjoyed walking for miles and swimming in ponds. She got to go to the beach once, running on the sand and playing in gentle waves. She liked to play soccer and was a good goalie, taking kicks like a premiere league footballer or controlling a lobbed ball with her head and body, with surprising aplomb. She protected and cherished her childhood toys long after she had outgrown them. Misha loved her stolen cat toys so much as a puppy, she would salivate anytime she heard a bell jingle for the rest of her life. Misha would make up elaborate games, even dragging long branches or chunks of wood around the yard to use a mock combatants or small prey. Her dog collar was so important to her that removing it was considered a personal affront and she would carefully clean her dog tags every day. Misha always welcomed company while she patrolled her yard, frequently looking up to see if you noticed her thoroughness. She loved sleeping and wallowing on the the couches in our two bedrooms and on the bed Midge made for her. She treasured her kiddy pool in the backyard, gingerly stepping into it, circling around and drinking with her face submerged.
Misha ate all kinds of food, including tomatoes, apples, carrots and bananas, passing only on lettuce and citrus. She expected to clean plates after meals and kept careful track of the number of plates and pans used, even taking you back to the kitchen to remind you that the pans must be cool enough for her. She looked forward to dog biscuits, anticipating them if you left the house for any length of time or at certain times of the day, if you had given her one at that same time in the recent past. She was also excited about walking to get the pizza at the local restaurant, straining at the leash on the way home in anticipation of little pieces of crust.
Although her life was relatively short, Misha was healthy and happy for the vast majority of it. For that, we are thankful. We treasure every second we were allowed with her and we are deeply honored and humbled to have known her. We are left deeply touched by a very special being.
To Misha:
We miss you so much and feel so heartbroken and empty inside without you. We knew our time with you would be brief, but we looked forward to at least a few more happy years with you. Thank you for all the comfort, strength and cheer you gave us when we were ill, sad or lonely. Thank you for the incredible depth of love you showed us. We’re sorry we didn’t take you on more walks. We regret every moment we spent apart from you. Most of all, we regret we weren’t there for you in your final minutes, stroking your head and telling you how much we love you. We hope your final thoughts were of us, rubbing your ears and kissing your sweet muzzle. Goodbye, Misha, our darling puppy. You are forever in our hearts.