Luna the Alaskan malamute rescue that was rescuing me.
2014-2021
My friend Luna Sleeps
She now sleeps the eternal sleep of this world.
Yet in my world, she lives on forever in my old broken heart.
I grieve deeply her passing too soon in her life, and mine.
She is now free of her bone cancer pain,
Yet I live on with the knowledge of that pain and much more without her.
Even with her pain and disability, she was always there for me.
She slept by my side through my good nights and bad.
For no longer will her cold nose and kisses wake me from my nightmare PTSD dreams.
No longer to be my Camp guardian on mountains treks,
Or beg for a belly rub at my feet, by high country campfire light.
Her Giant presents will be missed by our entire family,
Although none more than me.
She now sleeps pain free, in that golden light under rainbows bright,
I thank God for the special Gift he gave me,
And I,… I could not miss Luna my devoted friend more.

It is with a very heavy heart that I write today. In August of 2013, my then-husband adopted Luna from WAMAL. When we separated/divorced in 2018, he was unable to care for her, and I opted to keep her here in her home. At the time, I notified WAMAL that I would be keeping Luna with support from my next door neighbors. Our arrangement has been amazing, and has ensured that Luna was nearly always with someone, got walked or taken hiking nearly every day, and usually did not sit home alone all day while I was at work.

During the last two years, Luna had been having a number of health issues. It seemed there was always something, between dental problems, wasp sting reactions, skin infections, arthritis, and eye infections. She was super sweet and compliant through all of the care and treatment. In August she developed a front leg limp, which seemed to be arthritis spreading combined with constantly jumping in and out of my Subaru (we went so many places together). In October I discovered that she had a large lump on her side. It turned out to be an intrusive lipoma, which her vet removed. Unfortunately, after that we investigated the limp, and the biopsy revealed osteosarcoma. When treatment options were discussed, I learned that she could be put on chemotherapy, but the focus would be pain management, and she wouldn’t be hiking or taking long walks with the neighbors at all anymore. Luna did not respond adequately to the gabapentin, and completely stopped using that leg. Her vet said she was in excruciating pain, and there was nothing else to do. A consultation with a second vet confirmed that it was time to say goodbye to my sweet girl.

On December 14, Luna had seven different friends come to the house to bid her farewell. It could have been three times that many, because she was so loved, but for the pandemic.

River’s Release came to our home on December 15, and surrounded by loved ones (me, the amazing neighbors, my daughter, my son-in-law, and a dear friend, Luna made her way to the rainbow bridge.

Luna came to us as a very badly behaved wild thing. I didn’t think we would be able to keep her at that time because she terrified me. Over time, with love and consistent training, she became “the goodest good dog”, and completely won over everyone who met her. She changed me profoundly, and will forever remain in our hearts.

Thank you for the work you do

Xena, who was an approximately 10 year-old Malamute/Husky mix, came to us in September of 2020 after she was abandoned, rescued, and spent two months in a loving foster care home. Xena’s health was poor: her teeth were in bad condition, making it painful for her to eat kibble (she was the first dog to whom I fed canned dog food); her hips were painful, often making it difficult for her to walk; she was deaf; eye infections made it difficult for her to see; and despite a great diet in foster care, she remained quite emaciated. It was also clear from her behavior – she often kept her distance to avoid human contact and initially tried to sleep outside, even though she had clearly once been an indoor dog — that she had lived a lifetime of abuse and neglect.

Neglect and abuse, however, do not define who Xena was. In Laudato Si, his encyclical on care for our common home, Pope Francis writes that God has given all creatures a unique voice, one which we have no right to silence and one which we ignore only at great cost to ourselves. Xena’s voice was a particularly loud one. This was not because she howled or made other noises; she was almost entirely silent. Instead, Xena spoke through her behavior. Despite her abuse, she was meek, quiet, unassuming, and undemanding. But hers was not a meekness borne out of weakness or avoidance. Xena had an enormous inner strength and an ability to carve out for herself the space she needed to preserve her identity. That was expressed by her appropriating the family room as her spot for morning and afternoon naps, and her obvious annoyance when her private space was violated.

It was also clear that, despite all the hardship and suffering she had experienced throughout her life, Xena continued to hope for a better future; she longed for a home where she would be accepted and loved. After her arrival, she worked extremely hard to adapt to the rules and the rhythm of our household so that she could be a reliable and trustworthy pack member. In fact, the ease of her adaptation is almost shocking in view of her deafness. Her hope was also expressed in her radiant smile, a smile that would literally fill a room. We always saw it as she watched me prepare her breakfast and dinner, as she watched me get out of the car when I returned home from an outing (our male Mal mix, Yuma, alerted her to my arrivals), and above all during twice-daily pill time, which was Xena’s favorite time of the day.

Xena passed away on the evening of Thursday, March 4, after a five-week battle against liver cancer. Unlike many animals and people, her hope was realized, and she found the love, the safety, and the acceptance that she sought. She passed away very peacefully, and now her suffering is at an end. But Xena lives on through her loud voice: her meekness in the face of hardship and her determination to preserve her dignity despite her circumstances serve as a model that can instruct and inform us. My own hope is that I can grow in a meekness that will come close to matching Xena’s own.

I have to sadly, and with a shroud over my heart, announce that Fin, after more than a decade of companionship and happiness, has pass over the rainbow bridge. He is missed by us ever so greatly.

Shyla was abandoned by her family when they moved out and left her. She was discovered chained up behind a shop almost a week after they had moved out…no food, no water and Shyla was in pretty rough shape. She was immediately taken to a vet and it was determined that Shyla’s heart rate was very low and the vet couldn’t get any lung sounds so she did a couple x-rays and found Shyla had a very large dilated heart (dilated cardiomyopathy) and could have a possible heart based tumor. Shyla needed to see a cardiac specialist and we arranged an appointment and was preparing her to be transported to the Seattle area. The vet put Shyla’s prognosis as guarded to poor. She also had a mass on her tail that maybe was cancer, but it was the least of her worries at the moment. There was a lot of staining around both of her eyes and she was sneezing which may have been an upper respiratory issue.

Shyla was 5 years old, she was underweight with her ribs prominent. It was not ‘just’ a week of no food or water that took its toll on her body—it was a long period of neglect.

Shyla passed away peacefully in her sleep last night at her foster home. At least she didn’t die alone chained behind a store. Rest in peace dear Shyla and know that there are many, many new friends awaiting as you cross the Rainbow Bridge.

Thank you to Yakima Valley Pet Rescue who initially stepped in to help Shyla and to foster dad Jason and to our own board member Kristi who was working so hard to put all the puzzle pieces together so Shyla could receive the care she needed.

We recently had to say goodbye to our sweet old girl, Swisher. We adopted her Labor Day 2010, she was estimated to be 5 or 6 years old and had been rescued (as Kali) from a puppy mill operation in Montana. We are forever grateful to WAMAL and all the fabulous volunteers who brought her to us.

Swisher was such a good girl; we also knew her as our hilarious goofball, a great trail runner in her prime, and we are so lucky to have been members of her pack.

Rest in peace, Princess Monster Truck. Love –Adam and Brie

Kaeto was such a special pup, who loved everyone in his life and was loved just as much in return.

Rest in peace Kaeto, no longer by our side but forever in our hearts.

I woke up this morning with a Malamute-sized hole in my heart….we had to have Chico put to sleep yesterday. He has had degenerative myelopathy (similar to Lou Gehrig’s disease in humans) which progressively worsened over the past few months. While he had a warrior spirit and a heart of gold, his poor rear legs got to the point where it became painful to walk and he spent most of his days sleeping. I was blessed to be this boy’s Mom for five years after falling in love and adopting him from WAMAL. He was the sweetest dog in the world and, while selective with friends, he loved his people pack to the moon and back, just like we loved him.

Earlier this month my mom and I noticed the rainbow image on his paw, and she suggested it might be a sign. I know he is no longer in pain and is enjoying adventures with a lot of great people and pets over the Rainbow Bridge but he left this Mom and also his grandparents broken hearted here on earth.

Asher came to us as an emergency foster. We took him in and thought, what in the hell did we get ourselves into?? He had some strong and aggressive ways…not to mention his stubbornness. He spent 2 weeks on a 25-foot lead attached to my bed just so he would not bite anyone. Every day I would give him tons of attention and pets, then take him for walks around the yard. Oh, he would snap at me, but I would just stay calm and keep trying with him. Asher would try to bully you any chance he got up to the day he left us. After about two weeks I told Wamal I was going to just keep him. He was ornery and a handful but I could see beyond that to his possibilities. As time went on Asher became my best bud. Asher was on thyroid medication but due to some of his aggressive ways it was suggested we reduce the amount. It did make a difference once his levels were re-adjusted.

Asher loved to go for car rides and occasionally cussed out other drivers if we sat in traffic too long. At home Asher would always lay looking away from me in a doorway as if he were protecting me. He was fearless except for a running vacuum cleaner. But if you turned it off and walked away, he would head butt it. One of my favorite memories, and I do have a lot of them, was when I was raking up leaves. I had put them into six piles. Asher laid on the deck the whole time watching me. I finished and was taking a break and all the sudden he got up and ran through every single pile of them then looked at me with this smirk. I got them all raked back into piles again and Asher then went from pile to pile and peed on them. Hence his nickname “little pisser”.

Asher was always by my side. He would always greet me with a smile and woo. He had to give my wife kisses every night before bed and if she went to bed before he got them, he would wake her up. If you let him, he would bully until the day he passed. He loved his stuffed hedgehog and his treats that Aunt Rickie would send. For a pup that started out so aggressive he sure loved to give his kisses. He was not a cuddle dog but he always wanted to be by my side or “protecting” me. I would go outside with him at times and just sit with him. That was all he wanted.

One thing Asher taught me was that you can take a dog that people have given up on and if you show them they are wanted and loved they will show the same in return. And there is no better reward than watching a dog that was unwanted or even abused settle in and feel safe. That is a feeling I cannot describe. But I’m ready for the next pup that will need me…and that I will need in return.

We are sad to announce the passing of Tucker, one of our long-fostered Mals. Tucker had a very sad early life and came into rescue in mid-2015 presenting quite the challenge. He reportedly had been abused by 2 previous owners and tied up outside.  Kids had thrown rocks at him and he bit one.  Tucker was a big dog, one of the ‘giant’ Mals.  Long time volunteers Stephanie and Jeremy had experience with giants and difficult behavior, “so I guess that’s how we got assigned to him”, shared Stephanie.

“He was with us 3 weeks and we took our time as you could see he wasn’t very trusting. We had a couple potential adopters early on but the intros didn’t go well. He was a very sweet dog that just needed love and a stable home.  We only had him a year before our first son came along and we weren’t sure how that would go. But Tucker grew to understand the baby and they had a sweet relationship.  He had his play time every night at 7:30 of soccer…he loved when we’d kick the ball and he’d try to catch it and roll it back to us. He loved walks and hikes. No interest in squirrels but he loved bunnies-not to eat, he wanted to be friends…..haha!

He’d go to the bedroom at his bedtime nightly and sleep in the same room as us as he always wanted to be near his humans. We went on many adventures to Orcas Island, Maple Pass, multiple camping trips, Oregon, Long Beach and more with him. He was in his element then and especially loved to splash in the water.

As he got older the hips started to give out on him and walks became harder to do. And he couldn’t control his bladder anymore. He became an outdoor doggie as he couldn’t make it up the stairs to get inside. But he still got walks and love and attention. We miss him lots!”

Tucker was also blessed with a having ‘godmother’, Tamra, active in his life. “Tucker was always very alert, calm, intuitive and empathetic.  I knew not to stare at dogs, but he seemed to seek out your gaze like he was trying to see what was going on with you.  And genuinely cared.

When my job made it really difficult to think about adopting another dog, I was thankful to have WAMAL and to be able to work with so many dogs, but Tucker was always special to me so when he was fortunate to go live with Stephanie and Jeremy, I had the opportunity to take him on trips to Methow Valley for hiking and Whidbey Island. We also went on a number of snow-shoeing day trips.  And I dog sat for him during summer and winter holidays. 

With his size, presence, and good looks, he was always getting attention on walks and he was always a good walker and hiker.  When he traveled with me and met up with my friends, he always liked to be a part of the action, and he would play bow with my friends’ dog who we think was intimidated by Tucker’s size and good looks as he’d shy away whenever he saw Big Tuck coming.  Lol.

For a malamute, Tucker was very responsive and listened well. I found him very easy going and cooperative.   He liked attention but also liked his downtime too.  He was a gentle giant and very soulful.  He is missed in big ways!!”

Stephanie and Jeremy and family, THANK YOU so much for giving Tucker such an amazing home and so much love. And thank you to volunteers Danya, Tamra and Julie who took Tucker on adventures and were there to help when the going got tough.  Tucker leaves a very ‘giant’ hole in our hearts.

We are so grateful to have her for her last three years and grateful for WALMAL for bringing her into our life.

I’ve attached a few photos 🙂 Marissa and I are so grateful to have spent Shasta’s last three years together! Shasta loved long walks and wading in the ocean. We had some great outdoor adventures before she preferred to sleep on her fluffy bed in front of the fire. We are so grateful for WALMAL and Old Dog Haven for connecting us to Shasta. We’d encourage others to think about adopting older adult dogs!

Yiska is a Navaho name that means the night has passed. We named our two-year-old Malamute mix Yiska because his night had passed – he was scheduled to be euthanized on the day that WAMAL removed him from a kill shelter. It was always clear to me that Yiska understood just how close he had come to death.

When my late wife Vanessa and I first met Yiska, he was waiting for us in an enclosure. As I entered, our eyes made contact, and Yiska immediately approached me, jumped on me, and stuck his face in my face as he carefully examined me. (Vanessa always insisted that Yiska desperately needed glasses.) I knew immediately that he was our dog. (Interestingly, we later discovered that Yiska disliked and distrusted men.) Unfortunately, he then did the same thing to Vanessa. Because she was short, he towered over her, and she was frightened. He then topped off his performance by going behind her, jumping on her shoulders, and inspecting the back of her head. While it was obvious to me that Yiska was our dog, Vanessa was not convinced. We did, however, finally adopt Yiska and brought him home.

Yiska had an unusual case of separation anxiety – it surfaced whenever I left home, even if Vanessa or our daughters were home. Its severity, of course, was worse when no one was home, as we soon discovered. The first time we left Yiska home alone and uncrated, we came home to find garbage strewn all over the floor, the blinds in the kitchen and upstairs bathroom pulled down and chewed to pieces, the lower kitchen cabinet doors open with broken dishes strewn on the floor, and the family room furniture pulled out from the wall into the center of the room. It was an impressive scene of carnage and devastation.

Along with medication, we tried crating Yiska when we left home, with indifferent success. Although I reinforced the cages, a heavy-duty crate lasted on average for only about three weeks. Just maintaining a viable crate for Yiska proved to be a major challenge.

You might wonder why we wanted to keep a dog who was so destructive. Part of the reason is that, in the end, he only destroyed dishes and household possessions, some of which we replaced and some of which we realized we didn’t really need in the first place. But more importantly, in his own life, Yiska manifested love, commitment, and faithfulness. Dogs by their very nature are faithful; Yiska took faithfulness to new levels. He was absolutely devoted to me, had an uncanny ability to anticipate my thoughts, and was always eager to provide whatever support he could. He was an amazing, loving friend and comrade. The trail of devastation that he left behind is trivial in comparison to the strength of his personality and his love.

The first time Yiska’s night approached, it passed him by through an act of mercy. No living being can forever avoid nightfall, however. On the evening of Monday, July 15, 2019, at the age of 13, Yiska’s night did not pass. He lives on in our memories, and he lives on in his legacy of hope, faithfulness, and love.