Shadowfoot

    Shadowfoot blessed our lives for 8 short years.  My husband had been looking for an Alaskan Malamute for some time when he finally found the right one.  He had gone to see a liter of pups and only one came out to see him.  The rest hid behind a piece of plywood and wouldn't come out.  Shadowfoot readily came to him and the decision was made.  Shadowfoot was clearly my husband's dog.  He absolutely worshipped Garry in every way.  Garry traveled quite a bit on business, so when he was away, Shadowfoot would become my dog.

    When we first got him, I was, as I mentioned, what I considered to be an animal lover.  My husband, however, was just beginning to teach me about dogs.  I loved them, but didn't really have any kind of spiritual connection.  My husband taught me how to stroke them in just the right way and how to really spend quality time with them.  As I learned this, Shadowfoot became more affectionate and loving towards me.  He was there for me at times that nothing else could make me smile.  I would be sulking over something or be feeling very distressed and he would come over for affection.  He loved to lay his big head (he weighed 126 lbs) in my lap.  How could anyone refuse that?

    Shadowfoot's name came from the fact that he "shadowed" us all the time.  He absolutely adored being at our heels or near our desks while we worked.  Thank God that we both work from home, so enjoyed quality and quantity of time with him.  He would literally follow us from room to room throughout the day.  At night, he refused to go to bed until everyone was in their proper places (i.e.; my husband on his side and me on mine).  When my husband was away on business, Shadowfoot would be distressed for awhile before he would finally go to sleep.  He usually slept on Garry's side of the bed, but would come to my side when Garry was gone.

    Shadowfoot was very in tune to our emotions.  If one of us was having a particularly bad time, it was evident in his eyes that he was concerned.  One time we made the mistake of letting him watch Garry leave for a business trip.  Usually Shadowfoot would be in another part of the house when Garry left and would realize he was gone, but didn't dwell on it.  One particular time, he sat by the front door and watched Garry drive away.  Shadowfoot was so depressed and distraught that he lay by that door for hours.  He didn't want to eat or drink.  We didn't make that mistake again.

    Shadowfoot was a talker, as many Malamutes are.  He never really barked until we got our Golden Retriever, Dusty.  After a few short months together, Dusty had taught Shadowfoot to bark, and Shadowfoot had taught Dusty to talk.  The two of them together were something else.  Shadowfoot was clearly the Alfa, and Dusty adored him.  Dusty would bring the water bowl to us if Shadowfoot needed water and the same with the food bowl.  To say the least, Dusty is devastated without Shadowfoot here.  While Shadowfoot was sick, Dusty was beside himself.  He would run from room to room at break-neck speed and try to get Shadowfoot to play with him.  He would pull Shadowfoot's tail and tease him to get him riled up enough to play.

    Thank goodness Shadowfoot's suffering was short.  Our vet noticed about a year prior that Shadowfoot was getting a little cranky during the examination.  He had never done that before.  At home and in every other way, he seemed fine.  It was about that time that we found he had a love of "squeakers" (the little squeaky toys for dogs).  We would get him new squeakers on a regular basis, and he would guard them so no one could take them away.  His deterioration was so slow that we barely noticed it.  He got a little crankier and began to have some trouble walking.  We assumed that perhaps arthritis or something was setting in…just a fact of old age.  He checked out fine at vet appointments during general examination.  Once he really started going downhill, time went quickly.

    One night we were awakened from a dead sleep to Shadowfoot having a Grand Mal seizure.  We had never seen anything like that before and were certain he would die right there in our arms.  He survived the seizure and we rushed him to a specialist in Loveland, CO.  We saw many specialists in that next week and Shadowfoot's illness seemed to be a mystery.  He continued to become more and more lame, with his entire back side collapsing nearly every time he walked.  It was evident in his eyes that he was about at the end.  He would cry out in pain for no apparent reason.  Upon examination by all the specialists, they could find no source for the pain.

    My husband, stepson and I would stay up with him in shifts in case he had another seizure.  We didn't want him to be alone if it happened again.  This lasted about a week and he continued to deteriorate.  There were times that even his favorite treat, a "chewy", was of no interest to him.  We knew a difficult decision had to be made.

    I am thankful for one of the specialists that I spoke with.  We had requested a phone call from him to help us determine the best course of action.  His directness and honesty was what helped in our final decision.  In talking with him he let me know that in a dog of this age, seizures are nearly always a sign of brain tumor or swelling on the brain.  We knew then what we needed to do.  We loved Shadowfoot too much to put him through any more tests or treatments such as radiation.  He was too good a friend for that.  We were grieving so badly at the thought of euthanasia and weren't sure what to do.

    Someone had mentioned to me that a veterinary teaching school at the Colorado State University in Ft Collins was helpful in treatment and research.  I called them to see if by chance, Shadowfoot could be a doner or could be used in research after he was put to sleep.  They were so exited at the prospect, that they immediately started paging researchers while I was on hold.  They were specifically looking for large breed dogs and the fact that Shadowfoot wasn't very old meant that his bones were in good condition.  They made arrangements for us to bring him in the next day.  They didn't charge us a dime and treated us so well.

    We were lead into a room that was more like a living room, complete with levelor blinds, carpeting, couches, etc.  There were many books on bookshelves on dealing with the loss of a pet.  We felt so comfortable there.  The amazing thing was that Shadowfoot was comfortable there too.  He didn't fight the technician at all.  He knew the time had come to go.  He walked over to the soft pad they had laid out for him and immediately laid down.  We stayed with him until his passing.  The research center was so good to us.  We were not charged anything from start to finish.  We received his ashes and a print of his paw a few days later.  They will notify us each and every time he helps another animal through being a bone donor.

    I had never heard of any type of animal visitation or done any research on it.  I wasn't even aware that anything like that could happen.  A few days after Shadowfoot passed away, I was driving home from getting groceries.  I specifically remember my car smelling very strongly of candles when I put the groceries in.  (I am a consultant with a candle company and had just done a show hours before.)  My candles were still in the car and the car was filled with the fragrance.

    I was driving home and was immediately hit with the very strong smell of Shadowfoot.  If I had closed my eyes, I would have bet money he was right in my lap.  It was such a comforting experience.  I said out loud, "I know you're here Shadowfoot."  I wasn't sure why the visit came right at that moment, until I got home a few minutes later.  There was a letter from the university.  They were letting us know the details of Shadowfoot's cremation and some specifics that were difficult to read.  Because of the visit from him, I felt comfort knowing he was still with us.

    My husband also experienced a couple of visits from Shadowfoot.  On the evening of the day we put him to sleep, my husband had a very vivid visualization of Shadowfoot.  He says he wasn't asleep - just in that time in between wakefulness and sleep.  The visualization was so strong that he said it was like someone had taped a picture to the inside of his eyelids.  There was one "picture" of Shadowfoot just sitting and another picture of him looking out a window at snow-covered mountains.  We figure it was Shadowfoot's version of heaven.

    The second contact Garry had was while he was in bed.  He was lying there and felt the other animals (Dusty and our cat, Sox) jump off the bed.  Suddenly there was a presence next to him.  He felt something lying next to him that was not one of the other animals or me.  Shadowfoot frequently slept with us in spite of his size.  We liked to joke that he had his own "sleep number" on our bed.

    The only other sign I have had is tied to the Rainbow Bridge poem.  My stepson's mom had sent him the poem shortly after Shadowfoot's passing.  I retyped it and added graphics.  I laminated several copies and gave them to friends, family, and the vet's offices that had helped us.  It was very therapeutic for me during this painful time.  When I opened your book and saw Rainbow Bridge on that first page, I couldn't believe it.  The other day I was looking for some supplies for my business and turned to a page in the middle of a mail order catalog to find the Rainbow Bridge poem jumping out at me again.  I think its Shadowfoot's way of letting us know it really is like that in heaven.

    Shadowfoot had such a profound effect on our lives.  He taught us more than most people we come in contact with.  He will forever be in our hearts.  Thank you for this opportunity to share our story.

                                                                                        — Garry and Renee Joseph