Ch. Norrela's Coldspot Hanky Panky  "Hank"

Another goodbye --this time to our girl, Hank.

Sometimes serendipity places one in a perfect place, at the perfect time.  Our house was that place for you and you were that dog for us.  You would fill the void that would occur soon after you came with the senseless theft of our Rajun Cajun.  We couldn't have made it without you.   Through all crises, you seemed to know when the tears/pain became unbearable -- you'd slowly walk to me (I'm not sure you ever walked any way but slowly, but that's another story) stay beside me, and soak up my tears.  "Mom, it's okay -- just keep going. We'll make it."   You were so much OUR caretaker.

Funny and bratty.  Arrogant.  In the kiddy pool in the summer, constantly moving from side to side because you did NOT share.  The way you preened after a bath.  "Look at me -- I am SO beautiful". ( And, yes, you were.)  At a friend's house where you stayed on occasion -- going from crate to crate -- to the toy box, outside, back in -- gathering all your favorite toys (ignoring those you weren't so fond of) and putting them all nicely in YOUR crate.  My friend's pups, watching:  "Please can we have our toys back?"   You:  "Excuse me?  What toys?  Go away."

What a mom -- you had great babies for us. They NEVER misbehaved.  Your canine "silent alarm" could back them all off -- without a single "grrr."  And you were the "Queen of Cool".  Bark?  Howl?  Who, me?  That's silly and its a waste of energy -- and one thing you were NOT was silly, and one thing you did NOT do was waste energy.  But I knew -- occasionally, when you thought nobody was looking, you played! And the kids who so adored you and were so awed by you -- got to actually play WITH you!  Of course, it was on your terms -- but they didn't care -- they got to hang with Hank and were thrilled -- absolutely thrilled.

Remember after your last litter when Dad said you were such a good girl and didn't need to be penned up -- "you could be trusted"?   He took the ex-pen down around your box so you had total freedom in the back of the house.   I came home and you were all smiles, tail wagging, but with no pups!   Dad was in the garage -- all exasperated.  You really did a good job of hiding those babies -- nothing short of terrific, actually. And you were SO proud!   But dad found them -- I think it was the squeaking that gave them away.  He didn't think it was near as funny as you and I did -- where was his sense of humor?  And do you believe how fast that pen went back up?

I'm sure Bandit called you -- "Come with me.  This is fun -- you will feel so much better and we can run and play like before"  (He probably forgot that "run" was a dirty word to you; he should have said "amble").   I know that Mardi and C.J. were also waiting impatiently to see you.  I had hoped that imagining their excitement might lessen my selfish need to hold on.  It didn't -- But, as usual, you thought of us -- not yourself, and stayed a while longer.

You were the reflection of many joyful achievements and the satisfaction of a life lived fully and completely.   But it was becoming clear that the shine in your beautiful blue eyes was slowly fading -- replaced by -- fatigue?   And a plea:  "I love you guys.  I've always given you my best -- on every occasion -- always.  Magic and Tenacity and the babies are here.  But I want to be done.  I'm getting weak and so very tired.  I don't like being that way, mom.   I want to be strong and proud again.   Please let me.  Its your turn to do this for me.  Let me with Bandit and be with my friends. Please?"  -- it always was impossible to refuse you anything.

We hugged you longer and gave you super-special treats, hoping to change your mind.  How to say goodbye so soon after losing our big guy?  I just couldn't do it. But you stood firm.  Knowing you would be happy again and playful -- as much you ever played -- will ease this loss.  I'm sure of it; It has to.  So we snuggled, held you in our arms and finally, through tears and kisses, gathered the courage to love you enough to release you for your journey.  You left so gracefully.

Like Bandit, you touched our hearts every single day you were here.  You were always above "it" -- whatever "it" might have been  -- its not like you ever had the "common touch".  If Bandit was the lord of all he surveyed, you were surely the Lady of our manor.  Like you always told me, it'll be okay.  You can go now, sweetness. Laugh with your friends and be strong.

Hank, you hold our hearts. Hug the babies and keep everybody close until we see you again.  Deep thanks to the Davises, of Coldspot Siberians, for letting you grace our lives.  Lovely girl, we already miss you forever.