How do I explain the Squirrel Hunters? They mean something deeper to me than words can explain, almost primeval.  We have a wordless communication and understanding. People say they are just dogs, but I believe they are angels.

In 1998 I found myself divorced from my high school sweetheart. He was a very good man, but we had grown apart. I felt I was lacking something in my life and couldn’t find it without breaking free. I had always belonged to someone. Now I wanted at last to find my own way, a scary prospect with no degree or career, but I chose to plunge head-long into the unknown.

My husband left me the house and a kennel full of Siberian Huskies which we had shown and bred for many years. Supporting myself with only a small import store, I soon discovered I could not manage on my own. I was forced to put our home of 12 years up for sale and found homes for all of the dogs except my 4 favorite girls, Ciran and 3 of her daughters.  Ciran was my favorite of all the dogs I had ever owned. She was a kindred spirit and the Alpha.

During this time I became involved in a very exciting, but tumultuous relationship. He wanted me to move in with him, but not with the dogs.  The girls were my family and I could not imagine living anywhere without them, so after much searching I found a small, charming cottage surrounded by an acre of lawn, fruit trees and a view of a small lake filled with water birds. The setting was peaceful and although far outside my price range, I moved in with faith that I would eventually find a career that would allow me to stay in this idealistic setting.

At the time I don’t think I realized how traumatizing the move would be for Ciran and her family.  Leaving the only home they had ever known and losing most of the large pack they had grown up with must have been a terrible shock. But the beautiful and quiet setting in which we started our new life was therapeutic for us all. They now had more freedom and interaction with me, beautiful green lawns to sleep on, fruit and nut trees which provided them treats all year long,  a view of the birds on the lake, the occasional visit from the resident coyote pack, and best of all ground squirrels galore which they chased across the lawn and hunted in the wood pile.

We were happy for several years, but the stress of losing the larger pack was hardest on Ciran. Although her mother had lived to the ripe old age of 16, by 12 Ciran had begun to show her age. Her hearing went first, then her sight, and eventually her mind. She would get lost in the yard, collapse in the weeds and cry until someone came to rescue her. It was increasingly difficult for her to get around and she lost control of her body functions. When she lost interest even in her meals I made the decision to have her euthanized. It was a heart wrenching decision.

Her three daughters took Ciran’s death as hard as I did. They were lost without their pack leader, and spent most of their time lying under the kitchen window, looking to me for direction. They lost interest in play and within the year the oldest daughter Kazi developed a bizarre gastrointestinal disease. She could not digest food and eventually stopped eating altogether. After extensive tests I was told there was nothing they could do. I held out hope until Kazi was too week to to get around on her own.

By 2004 all that was left of my beautiful dogs were half sisters  Sherika and Tahari. Tahari had been spayed at a young age, but Sherika had not. Seeing how desolate they were without the rest of their family, my boyfriend Don suggested I breed Sherika and start a new pack. Sherika was already 8 years old, which was quite old for a first litter. Although I was resistant at first, I decided this might be a very good idea. I started looking for a mate among the breeders that I knew and eventually found a cousin to Sherika which would be a close line-breeding on Ciran’s family tree.

Sherika’s suitor came to stay with us for a couple of weeks and they got along famously. Sherika, always a sweet and gentle soul accepted him as a new and exciting part of the pack. By the time he left, our little family had renewed hope.

to be continued…