Old Wolf Dog: Searching for wild Buffalo Grass
Every day I walk my 15 yr old Wolf dog. It takes us about 1 hour to cover the distance he walked in 10 minutes in his prime. We manage a spiritual mile a day at slow motion. Like an old medicine man he searches for wild Buffalo Grass. With one good eye he analyzes the near sighted horizon. When a blade of coarse high grass waves in the air he leads the way. I guess it must be an Herbal stomach relaxer.
I am a fast walker with long strides and this slow procedure used to drive me crazy. There was a day when Chinook and I walked the forest trails together at a fast clip. No more. I am more patient now as I realize he may not be with me long. I increasingly am aware Chinook is more Soul Mate then any man I have had. I will care for him with intense watchfulness during his last days. When autumn comes I will remember the Indian Philosophy “it is a good day to die.”
What is a good day for an old dog to die?
A good day to die is when the wind blows through your hair, you are at peace with the world, acceptant of your place in the Universe and a song is in your head. Chinook is a 100 lb White wolf / Husky cross. In the last 15 years he’s seen all my life chapters, analyzed my every move and protected me. I love him more then my self.
For that reason, before the cold winds blow and ice laces the walks, I will not allow Chinook to die screaming with a broken hip. I will not allow the Cancer in his ears to grow so bad his quality of life is gone. I will prepare his Crossing Over for a Beautiful Day.
How am I preparing for his Crossing in autumn?
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I am recording a cassette of all the songs I whistle and sing to him during our walks. I will play this on the time of his crossing over. I know it will comfort him when I am crying as he lies in my arms.
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I will give him a last mile walk to search for Buffalo Grass under blue autumn skies and a crisp breeze.
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I will give him a convertible ride in the back seat on a blanket, while he is still able to sit up without screaming in pain.
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Chinook will be ready for his Old Man nap from his good day.
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I will be escorted into a lovely quiet room at the Vet.
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This is when I will play the cassette I have recorded of our walk songs;
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I will allow the Vet to give Chinook a tranquilizer to relax him even deeper.
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As the last shot is given to Chinook he will rest in my arms.
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I will be with him as my Golden Retriever’s Spirit, Jazz, bounds up to Chinook and they run off together where dogs become Wolves again.
This I know. To me, it is not love to make a Soul Mate Pet die in Agony. I will take advantage of the fact that in America Pets are allowed to die with dignity, but humans are not.
In the mean time, I will take slow bonding walks in search of Buffalo Grass with Chinook, my 15 yr old Soul Mate wolf dog.
This is an old newspaper clipping of Chinook, Jazz and I {and my first publisdhed book "Swirls on a Green Plate."} Jazz, Chinooks mate, died in early spring, 2008, at age 10. She adored Chinook.
Chinook Dies August 19th, 2008 {the ending of my story}
I woke up and knew it was time to put Chinook down. He developed a tumor on his hind quarters that caused him to drag his leg. The cancer had spread from his ear, to his eye and now his hind end. I promised myself I would not allow my soul mate dog to be in unbearable pain. For the first time ever he wouldn't eat his breakfast. I sat on the couch in my pajamas as he lay at my feet whimpering softly and continuously. He has never been this bad. With one good eye he pleaded for me to make his pain go away. I cried and woke my husband up. I knew for sure it was time to help Chinook cross.
Kevin and I gently lifted Chinook into the back seat of the convertible. We took him to the favorite Prairie park where he and Jazz loved to swim and run. Magicly all his strength came back. He seemed cured, his tail wagged, and seemed more alive then I had seen him in months. "He sees Jazz. She's here for him." my Red Neck hubby commented. Jazz, who died in the Spring, was a Golden Retriever. Chinook trotted fast on the trails, over the bridge, around the Bog and collapsed in the Joint Grass in bliss. The 10:30 AM Bull frogs sang ... I wish he would have passed on there. But he didn't. Had I read Chinooks agony cries wrong? I was both happy for him and in torment.
Thats when I found a fresh snake skin on the ground. The Native Americans believe animals leave messages.....and from feathers, skins, fur are constant signs. I remembered a molted snake skin means "metamorphasis"... a new path awaits. I told Kevin it was our message. I felt sure it was ok to let Chanook go to Jazz. She was already by his side. By the time we got to the bridge leading to the car, Chinook's leg began to drag. I knew once home his agony would begin again. It was time to shed his body in dignity like a warrior.
We walked into the Vets office and Chanook looked beautiful. When I told the nurse what we had made an appointment for she looked at us like "HIM......YOU GOT TO BE CRAZY." I was devestated by Chanooks sudden recovery. I kept thinking {of all people} ELVIS PRESLEY. "Die Young and leave a good looking corpse" {Who would have thought Elvis Presley would come to me in Chanooks last hour! I'm not even a fan.}
We asked the Dr. to give us a blanket for the floor. I sat beside Chinook, his head in my lap. I whisteled, sobbing silently, with sunglasses on. He always read my eyes and knew me like a book. I did not want him to read my eyes now. I sang softly and whisteled over and over his favorite walking songs. I whisteled joy songs as they put the relaxer in him. I whisteled softly 8 minutes, Kevin wiping the snot from my nose as I sobbed uncontrollably and whistled over Chinooks big wolf head. Finally he let out a huge sigh. I whisteled through my breath while the Doc put the final shot in his leg. And then, in seconds, he was gone. Even in death he was so beautiful. "No more pain and misery my Chinook." "Have a good run with Jazz." my hubby sobbed.
Kevin and I went home and I shoveled 2 graves at the base of the wolf tree sculpture. When Chanook's ashes get back, we will mix the remaining of Jazz's ashes with his and spread them at their favorite trees. The house feels so empty.
This is Chinook and Jazz's Pet monument, where their ashes are buried, The sculpture is 10 foot high and was carved by an area chain saw artist. The massive tree's roots were choking off our neighbor’s sewer system and had to be cut down. Now the Maple tree, Jazz and Chinook are all together as one, in this 10 ft. high carving in sight of my kitchen window.