When my mom left me a message at 9 o'clock at night, I knew it couldn't be good. "Amanda, please call me, on cell" was all she said. I knew it had to do with our family dog, Dakota. Dakota didn't live with me, but I still considered him my dog. I grew up with him. Anyone who has a dog very well knows what they mean to your family.
"It's worse than we thought," my mom said in a weepy voice. Not only did it kill me to hear about Dakota being ill but it killed me to hear my mom so saddened. She was always the strong one keeping it together for the family. "His bowels are twisted, his liver enzymes are four times higher than they should be and he's not making any white blood cells. They think it's cancer." Everything else my mom said was just a blur as I sat in bed and sobbed. I was going to lose my best friend.
I can even remember what the weather was like the day we brought Dakota home. I was that excited. We lived in a trailer most of our lives and having a dog wasn't really much of an option for us, yet I continued to beg my mom for one. My mom met Steve who she quickly fell in love with. They bought a house on the other side of town. Not too long after we moved in my mom and Steve decided it was time to get a dog. My mom bought thousands of books on different breeds until she finally decided we were going to get a Golden Retriever. I mean what dog wouldn't be more perfect for our active family with three kids?
It felt like Christmas day to me as we were driving home with our little golden puppy in a cardboard box. It was a gloomy, wet September day when we brought him home. The breeder's daughter named him Dakota. We didn't change it. He looked just like a Dakota. He looked just like one of those perfect looking puppies you seen on the cover of a calender. One of the first things I did with him was take him for a walk. I was dying to show him off to the entire neighborhood. I didn't care how wet the streets were or the fact that he didn't even know what a leash was, I wanted to take him for a walk.
Before I knew it, walks became our thing. My mom's relationship with Steve began to detangle and fall apart. Taking Dakota for a walk was my way to release my frustration. Eventually, exercising became an obsession for me as I began to develop an eating disorder. I didn't have control over my situation at home, so controlling what I ate and exercising made me feel in control of something. Dakota didn't mind. He got plenty of walks out of me and always counted on them.
He knew my routine. He knew we took a morning walk after my shower. He would follow me every step I took until I put that leash on him. He knew on school days he'd have a walk the moment the bus dropped me off. He always had another walk after dinner as well. Those were my favorite. Especially when it was dark and quiet and the street lights illuminated the paved roads. Weather or being ill was never a factor for our walks. In fact I remember having Mononucleosis and still taking Dakota for his walks in the blistering summer sun.
Dakota had a wild side and endless amounts of energy. At times it was entertaining and at other times it would drive you nuts. Nothing pissed me off more than when he would pull on the sleeves of my sweaters and rip holes in them. He also had a thing for socks. If he noticed you had socks on your feet, he would rip them off and runaway in attempt to grab your attention. Needless to say, it did. His favorite ploy was taking an item, it didn't have to necessarily be a sock, but anything and he would run circles around the the kitchen table until you outsmarted him and jumped on top of the kitchen table looking like an idiot.
Not only did Dakota have me running in circles around the kitchen table but he also helped me achieve my first broken bone: my pinkie finger. I will admit I wasn't the smartest 14 year-old either. Dakota was only four months old at the time, but you have to remember a four month-old Golden retriever puppy is not so much a puppy when you think of size. He was pretty big already and had a great amount of strength.
After one of our late night walks I wasn't ready to turn in. I decided to run around the front yard with Dakota. He became easily riled up with excessive energy. We had these cement stairs in the front yard that led down to the driveway. I began to walk Dakota down them in an attempt to go to the other side of the yard. I didn't realize his retractable leash was in the lock position. Dakota decided to take a flying leap off the cement stairs.
CRASH. I landed on the paved driveway skinning up my entire left arm, spraining my wrist and breaking my pinkie finger. I looked up and there was Dakota staring at me with his big, floppy ears and wagging his obnoxious tail.That wasn't the only time either. A month after I broke my pinkie finger, I was running up a hill with Dakota in our backyard and had the leash on lock. You would think I've learned my lesson by now. Dakota saw a squirrel and went barrelling in the complete opposite direction. I broke the same pinkie finger once again. Thus began the Gentle Leader and dog obedience.
My mom and I took Dakota to a dog obedience class at the local animal shelter every Tuesday night. I looked forward to it every week. The instructor was this crazy guy named Bob. He had hair down to his shoulders and was very tall and lanky. Yet, the connection he had with every dog was spectacular. He brought his German Shepard to every class. I wanted Dakota to be as well behaved as Bob's dog was. The class was filled with at least 10 puppies who would jump and pull on the Shepard's ears. He never budged.
At our first class, Dakota could barely keep himself together. He was so excited to be around different people and different dogs. He was constantly flopping around like a fish out of water, which in turn caused me to flop along with him as he pulled me in each and every way. Bob noticed this immediately, despite my efforts to teach Dakota to heel. He had the attention span of a one year-old child. Bob approached my mother and I at the end of class one night. "I think it's time we try the Gentle Leader with Dakota," he said to us as Dakota succeeded at jumping on him.
The Gentle Leader was this muzzle like apparatus that went around the dog's nose and behind his ears instead of around his neck like a collar, but it wasn't at all like muzzle. In fact, Dakota still managed to bite on my sleeves and tear holes in my nice sweaters. But with a gentle tug on the leash, he would stop. It was like night and day with the Gentle Leader. Dakota immediately became the best walking dog in the neighborhood. I was able to gain control of him in a humane way without using those terrorist metal choke collars most use on their unruly pets. In fact, the Gentle Leader is better for a dog than a regular collar is. Our broken pinkie finger days were gladly over and our walks became much more enjoyable aside from the snide comments from the neighbors about how I put a muzzle on my dog.
Dakota became my rock to lean on when times were rough and I felt hopeless. The relationship between my mother and Steve worsened and oftentimes I would lock myself in my room and just hold Dakota and cry. I hated seeing my mom so miserable but didn't want her to know I was hurting as well. I began to isolate myself and spent less time with friends. Dakota became my friend. He was the best of friend I could ever have; he always listened, he understood and he never judged me.The day finally came where my mom had enough with her relationship with Steve. I had enough as well. She picked me up from school one afternoon in tears. She was at her breaking point and doubting whether she should leave or not. "If you want to stay with him, fine, but I had enough. Drop me off at Oma's" I said. That convinced her enough to leave.
My mom, brother and I, along with Dakota up and left that day. Not only was that the day I felt happy for the first time in a long time, but it was my first day on my road to recovery with an eating disorder. We temporarily squished into my Oma's small trailor for the time being. Despite the lack of room between the four of us along with a clumsy, 80 pound Golden Retriever, we were all extremely happy. As if our family hadn't been through enough, we were struck with a severe ice storm in 2003 at the beginning of April. Western New York weather was very temperamental. We were in a state of emergency and were asked to evacuate the trailer park, but being as we had no where else to go and every hotel room was booked. We stayed put.
It was a very old trailer park with enormous oak trees weaving in and out of the tiny trailer yards. My Oma had one of the oldest oak trees in the park. It took up the entire yard. The ice became so heavy on the branches they started to break and fall. You could hear the branches from nearby trees cracking then you'd hear a rustling noise as they fell to the ground. The noise became more frequent as night fell and it started to become frightening to us all. You could hear the long branches pounding as they hit the tin roof. My Mom and Oma had my brother, Dakota and I sit under the kitchen table, just in case. I held on to Dakota tight and stroked his golden fur to ease the nervousness. Dakota wasn't as rambunctious as he typically was. He knew something was going on and just lied next to my brother and I panting.
It was as if the trailer was struck with a lighting bolt. It happened so fast. I saw a flash of light, most likely my adrenaline as the tree branch went through the frail roof in the living room. My brother and I started screaming. My mom and Oma grabbed us and rushed us into the front bedroom along with Dakota. I sat on the bed gripping Dakota with all my might. My mom and Oma went back out into the living room to asses the branch. We screamed at the top of our lungs for them in fear of another branch coming through the roof. Dakota was trembling all over. It was the only time I have ever seen him so scared and frightened. I realized that I had to be there for him like he was there for me during my lowest moments.
Our neighbors helped remove the tree branch from our roof that night. We all tried to sleep in the small front room but hearing every tree branch fall near the trailer sent jolts through my body. I held on to Dakota all night, it provided us both a sense of comfort. When we woke the next morning it was a sense of relief, like as if we survived. It took us a week to get power back and to clean up the neighborhood. The experience brought a much stronger connection between Dakota and I.
That May we moved out of the trailer. I think it was hard for us to feel safe there since the ice storm. My mom bought our very first house. It was a perfect two-story home in a quaint neighborhood with a fenced in backyard for Dakota. It couldn't be more perfect. I'll never forget Dakota's reaction to his new home. He ran around the house like he was on fire, he had so much room. We were all gathered in my new room when Dakota came busting in. He took a nose dive on the bare, carpeted floor and started rolling around in pure happiness. I was so happy. When we let him free into his new backyard, it was as if he got a new set of wheels. He zoomed around the yard with his ears pressed against his head and his tail tucked underneath him. He did this often and we named it his Spazz.
Since the day we moved into our new house, my brother and I begged my mom and Oma for another dog. We found so much joy with Dakota and we knew he needed a friend, but my mom resisted us for a few months. I knew her resistance would break sooner or later. I went to Virginia Beach for a week with my friends and when I came back sitting there in the kitchen was this fuzzy, golden puppy nipping at Dakota's tail. I screamed in pure delight. I was a huge Kenny Chesney fan, so my mom named her Star after Kenny Chesney's hit "Big Star."
She became the exact opposite of Dakota in every way. Star loved to swim and play in water, Dakota hated it. Star loved to fetch tennis balls all day and bring them back, Dakota would fetch the tennis ball but wouldn't bring it back. Dakota begged, Star didn't. Dakota was very clean when he took a drink out of his water bowl, Star slobbered everywhere and left puddles all over the kitchen. Yet, they were perfect for each other and became attached to one another. When one of them had to spend a night or two at the vet hospital, the other sulked until they came back. They couldn't do anything without each other.
She became the exact opposite of Dakota in every way. Star loved to swim and play in water, Dakota hated it. Star loved to fetch tennis balls all day and bring them back, Dakota would fetch the tennis ball but wouldn't bring it back. Dakota begged, Star didn't. Dakota was very clean when he took a drink out of his water bowl, Star slobbered everywhere and left puddles all over the kitchen. Yet, they were perfect for each other and became attached to one another. When one of them had to spend a night or two at the vet hospital, the other sulked until they came back. They couldn't do anything without each other.
Although I started to grow older and grow more into my teenage phase, Dakota still remained my best buddy. Once I graduated high school, I wasn't home often. I spent most of my time at college, work, hanging out with my friends or spending time with my fiance when he was home from the Marine Corps. I may not have been home a lot during the day but I always had Dakota to come home to at night. He always had his designated spot at the foot of the couch when I was in the living room watching TV. He would curl up at the end and wrap his arms around my feet. I always looked forward to that part of the day.
Dakota was always our protector. He barked at any little, odd noise he heard in the house. When we let him out into the backyard he spent most of his time barking at nothing. I think he just wanted his presence known. When he simply wanted attention from us or was jealous he would stand in front of us and bark incessantly. The more we got mad and annoyed at him, the louder he would bark. As much as his excessive barking was a nuisance at times, it also put us at ease knowing that if ever there was an intruder, Dakota had our back.
Dakota was also a fighter. We spent out lazy summer days hanging out together on the back porch while the dogs played in the backyard. The fence we had surrounding our backyard wasn't much of a fence. In fact it was mostly wooden posts intertwined with barbed wire. If Dakota and Star wanted too, they probably could jump the fence.
It all happened so fast. We were all sitting around the outdoor table kicking back after a long day at work when this large white Pit Bull came barrelling over the small fence into our backyard. The Pit Bull went straight for Dakota. It went crazy biting Dakota all over. Dakota didn't back down. He gave it right back biting the Pit Bull in the face. We were all screaming as Star stood in the background whimpering. The Pit Bull didn't want to give up, he wrapped his entire jaw around Dakota's neck. My Oma turned on the hose and sprayed the pit bull square in the face, but he wouldn't budge. My mom and brother went up and tried to pull them apart, but that wasn't working either.
By the grace of god, our neighbor flew over the fence and whacked the Pit bull right in the face with a metal shovel. The dog released Dakota from his jaws and jumped back over the fence and took off. We rushed to Dakota's side. He had blood all over his arms, chest and face. We didn't know where the blood was coming from, whether it was from the Pit bull or Dakota. Dakota seemed fine, he seemed proud of himself for defending his home and family. We immediately rushed him to the Vet in fear of some serious injury that we couldn't see through his thick golden fur. Aside from a few deep bit wounds in his ears, neck and paws, Dakota received a clean bill of health. We were proud of a little fighter and also realized we very well could have lost our Dakota that day. The following week my mom had a 6-foot fence installed.
The day came when my fiance came home from the Marine Corps for good. We got our own apartment together a half hour away from home, which was a huge jump for me. The last night I spent at home. I remember sleeping on just my mattress on my floor. I barely had any room as it was and still managed to fit Dakota and Star in my bed. I was going to miss them.
Whenever my mom came to visit I always begged her to bring Dakota and Star. It was so lonely in our tiny apartment without a four-legged creature running around. Having an animal around was comfort to me, like homemade mac and cheese, there's just nothing like it. I begged and begged my Fiance, Ryan, for a puppy of our own. He resisted for a few months, but I knew he wouldn't last, he was a dog person too.
A woman down the street from Ryan's work bred Shelties for a living. She had three puppies left from a litter and we decided to take a look. Ryan said we were just looking, but I knew how this worked, I knew we would come home with a puppy. The farmhouse was swarming with Shelties running all over the place. I felt like a little child again once I spotted the little tiny pups in a playpen. As soon as we opened the door to the playpen, a little black and white puppy came running up to me and kissing my nose. He was mine. We named him Wrigley.
Wrigley filled that void that I was missing while living away from home. He became my other buddy. Every time I went to my mom's I brought Wrigley. It became his second home too. Dakota and Star were weary of him at first, but within time they became the three stooges and nearly inseparable. Star showed Wrigley how to fetch tennis balls and Dakota showed him how to beg for food. Eventually, if I left our apartment without Wrigley, he would get nervous that I was going to my mom's without him. He loved it there and he loved Dakota and Star just as much as I did.
Five years passed since my mom ended her relationship with Steve. It came as a shock to me when my mother told me she contacted Steve and they were going to get together. I was very upset and weary at first, but I'm a believer in second chances and decided to give Steve just one more chance. Like Kenny Chesney would say, "some people change." Steve and his daughter, Summer, came over to our house for the first time and we didn't think Dakota would recognize them since it had been so long. But Dakota proved us wrong. Steve walked in the door and Dakota took a joyful, happy leap at him and plopped his long arms on Steve's chest. He took another giant leap at Summer and licked her face. He knew exactly who Steve and Summer were and Dakota was overjoyed to have them back in the family.
And Steve did change his ways. It took awhile for me to adjust and accept it, but he proved to me that he wasn't the same guy he use to be. He was much more loving, fatherly, and more laid-back than he use to be. He treated my mother like the gem that she was and that was all that I wanted; was for my mom to be perfectly happy. Steve and Summer moved in with my mom a year later and it couldn't feel more right for him to be there. We were all a happy family once again.
Time passed and with time comes age. I noticed Dakota becoming older as his once golden nose turned gray and jumping up onto the couch became more of a trouble to him. But I guess I failed to see it mostly because Dakota still acted like that puppy who we carried in a cardboard box the day we brought him home. Along with age, came a baby boy for Ryan and I, who was now my husband.
One of my biggest concerns when we had Owen was how the dogs would all react. It was my biggest fear with having a baby because my dogs were my babies as well. Wrigley acted as if nothing was different the day we brought Owen home, he had no idea, until the baby cried. His hair went straight up on his back and he hid upstairs for awhile. Eventually, Wrigley became daring enough to sniff him and within time Wrigley grew to love Owen, even when Owen started walking and pulling his hair.
Dakota and Star knew no different when Owen arrived, as if Owen was always there. They weren't as skiddish as Wrigley was. Dakota took differently to Owen's newfound mobility, which to me was odd because Dakota was very tolerable of everything. So when he would snip or show his teeth at Owen I found it alarming. Being a mother, I would pull Owen away then yell at Dakota. I wish I could take it back now because now I realize he wasn't feeling well.
Christmas came and went and Dakota became very ill, very fast. He wouldn't eat his dinner and began vomiting anything he digested. Immediately I thought he had a bowel obstruction because of the aluminum foil he ate on Christmas. My mom brought him to the Vet the following day. My mind was at ease because I assumed it was just something simple that would be fixed and Dakota would be fine. I was all wrong. It was Cancer, Leukemia, and Dakota was only given a few weeks to live.
Our minds kept telling us that maybe he would go into remission and get better, but deep in my heart, I felt it. I felt that this was Dakota's last bit of time here on earth. Dakota's condition deteriorated very fast. It was almost hard to believe that last week he seemed like the same old Dakota. He wouldn't get up to greet me or walk me to the door when I left like he use to. He could barely gather the energy to beg for food. His eyes became droopy and his stomach looked sunken in.
But then some days he would seem almost normal. He would lick the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, he would let out a couple barks outside to stir up the neighborhood dogs. Everyday was a different story and when he seemed better, we got our hopes up. A couple weeks after his diagnosis, Dakota had more bloodwork done. We were sure it would show improvement. It didn't. My mom left me another weepy voicemail on my phone telling me that Dakota's bloodwork had no improvement, in fact it was much worse and the Vet suggested we think about euthanizing him.
We knew that decision would be the best for Dakota so he wouldn't suffer, yet we just couldn't make that decision quite yet. My mom was bound and determined to let Dakota spend his last moments here at home where he was happy and comfortable. I couldn't agree more. The Vet prescribed Dakota Prednizone to give him a bit more life until we could make a decision to euthanize him or in better words realize that we needed to do it for him. For some reason the Vet was convinced we would end up caving and put him down.
A little over a week went by and despite the Prednizone that gave Dakota that extra pep into his personality, physically he was still deteriorating. I could still see the hope in Steve and my brother's eyes that Dakota will turn around for the better, but my mom and I could sense he was near the end. When Dakota's nose started bleeding that Sunday, I think that's when Steve realized that Dakota wasn't going to get better. My mom made me aware that Dakota had a follow up appointment on Thursday and she was thinking of putting Dakota down. Although, I knew it was coming it was still difficult to hear those words, but we had to stop being selfish and think of Dakota.
On Wednesday after work I debated about going to visit Dakota on his last night with us. I wasn't feeling well but I knew I would regret it, so I went to my mom's. Dakota seemed to be in the same condition, not any worse, not any better. I spent the whole time just loving him, petting his nose, scratching his ear, and cuddling on the couch with him. We even spoiled him with leftover mozzerella sticks. It seemed like just a normal night at my mother's house. It was getting late and I decided to go back home. Dakota walked me to the door for the first time in awhile. It made my heart smile. I gave him a kiss on the head and left.
Ryan had a craving for a McFlurry at Mcdonalds, so I decided to go through the drive-thru and grab a couple for us, I figured it would cheer me up. I was leaving Mcdonalds when I became overwhelmed with sadness. It came out of no where. I just started crying and thinking about Dakota. I sensed something wasn't right, but figured it was just me being emotional with everything that has been happening. My phone started ringing, it was Steve. "Amanda, come back, Dakota just stopped breathing," He said in a choppy, disoriented voice.
I turned around and went back to my mother's house. My heart sank deep into my chest. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I burst through the door and ran into the family room. Dakota was lying on floor, almost as if he was sleeping. He looked so peaceful, so calm, yet everyone around him was hysterical. My brother was hunched over Dakota "Please Dakota, no, don't go," He kept repeating the same words. I've never seen my brother in such agony. This moment forever replayed in my mind. Steve was crying along with my mom. I ran up to sleeping Dakota in an explosion of tears "Why? Dakota, no, please no" I kept saying as I pet his head in disbelief. I couldn't believe he was gone already, although I knew it was his time for awhile now. My best friend was gone.
My Oma came in and immediately wrapped her arms around me and comforted me. My body was shaking from all the emotion I was overcome with. My brother still lied on the floor hysterically crying and saying "Dakota, no." I wanted him to stop so bad because it was killing me to see him in so much pain, but I reminded myself that we all deal with grief differently. My Oma whispered into my ear "It's okay hunny, everything has a beginning and an end. Dakota is in a much happier place now," she then moved over to comfort my brother.
Once we all calmed down somewhat, we decided to let Star and Wrigley in to say their goodbyes. Star came in with her ears flat against her head and tail tucked in. She knew what was going on, but she was frightened by our reactions. She sensed our agony. She laid down right next to Dakota like she normally would. We all immediately started crying again.
My mom contacted the on-call Vet who agreed to meet us at the hospital so we could bring Dakota's body in. My brother and Steve lifted his limp body on to a Minnie Mouse blanket and then carried my Dakota out into the car. I couldn't watch. I went with my mom and Steve to bring Dakota to the animal hospital. My mom and I sat in the back seat as my mom stroked Dakota's lifeless body. I stared out the window as we drove through our neighborhood and reminisced all the long walks Dakota and I took down all the streets. I would never be able to do that again.
The Vet helped us carry Dakota into the hospital and laid him on the exam table still wrapped in the Minnie Mouse blanket. The Vet didn't say anything she just nodded her head and shut the door so we could say our goodbyes. The three of us stood there stroking his golden fur and telling him what a good puppy he was to us. I kept rubbing his ears like I always did. Steve said goodbye first and left the room. My mom and I stood there staring at each other and Dakota. "I don't want to leave him," my mom said as tears fell out of her bloodshot eyes. I nodded my head in agreement.
I went over to Dakota's head and whispered in his ear "Thank you for always being there for me. You were the bestest friend I could ever have, I love you," I gave him one last kiss on the forehead and made my way to the door. My mom followed. I stared at the window of the exam room where we left our Dakota. I couldn't believe it was the end of his story already. I started to regret not doing this or not doing that, but that's no way to live. Dakota lived a happy, healthy life with us. We gave him everything a Golden dog could ask for.
I believe everything that happened that night, happened for a reason. I believe Dakota waited until I saw him one last time before he passed. It thrills me to know that I got to spend his last few moments with him and knowing he was happy and had a belly full of mozzerrella sticks when he passed. I believe that Dakota and I were so connected that when I became overwhelmed with sadness, it was because I just knew he already left this earth. I also believe that if I saw him actually pass, it would have traumatized me, so Dakota waited until I was gone. Dakota taught me some of the most important lessons in my life from being patient to living life with no regrets. I think the most important thing Dakota taught me was what it was like love and be loved in return.
In loving memory of Dakota July 7th, 2001 to January 19th 2011
