Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "Look at that dog walking on OUR SIDEWALK!

Bree: "With IMPUNITY!"

Miksa: "YEAH! With that...!"

Bree: "With his pathetic human!"

Miksa: "Yeah!"

Bree: "I will KICK HIS ASS!!!"

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Me: "Miksa, you need to go outside before bedtime."

Miksa: "It's hot outside."

Me: "Well. Yeah. It's summer."

Miksa: "I'm tired. Would you carry me? I'm just a puppy."

Me: "(...)"

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "I am an Alaskan Malamute. I am strong."

Me: "Yes, you are."

Miksa: "I walked five miles today."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Bree: "That's MY toy, junior."

Me: "No, it's not, Bree. I bought that for him. Your toy is in the other room."

Bree: "But, he got the BEST toy."

Me: "Oh, come on, Bree. You haven't played with ANY of your toys for years now. Give the little guy a break."

Bree: *under her breath* "Sorry ass little son of a bitch."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "I like this short human. He's tasty!"

Me: "(...)"

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "...Because I love you, Bree."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "What is this?"

Me: "It's a toy, Miksa. You can chew on it!"

Miksa: "(😁)"

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Bree: "Sit there and look cute."

Miksa: "Why?"

Bree: "This is how you train humans to give us treats."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Bree: "Oh! You're home! You took him back?!"

Me: "No, Bree. He's in the sunroom. I just drove him to the Vet's office."

Bree: "Yeah? (Bwahahaaa!)"

Me: "Now that's just mean, Bree."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "What is this place?"

Me: "This is your Vet's office. We're here for your very first check-up."

Miksa: "I don't like this place."

Me: "You don't need to be afraid. No one will hurt you. They gave you a new toy..."

Miksa: "It smells bad, and there are dogs crying."

Me: "But they love you here."

Miksa: "Take me home."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "I think I like it here. I have my own room and a very big backyard."

Me: "That makes me very happy, Miksa!"

Miksa: "But Bree is mean to me."

Me: "Give her some time. She'll come around. I know it."

Miksa: "I love you."

Me: "Awww. You are a very special puppy. I love you, too."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Me: "Bree. You and I need to talk."

Bree: "Is it still here?"

Me: "If you're referring to Miksa, the answer is yes."

Bree: "It's an asshole."

Me: "Bree. He's only eight weeks old. He's a baby. He's not old enough to be an asshole."

Bree: "Well, then, he's a jerk. Take him BACK."

Me: "Sigh..."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Me: "Good morning, sweet little puppy. I thought you might like to explore the house today. There are lots of new smells...and things to see. Are you up for that?"

Miksa: "I...I guess so. Where is Bree? She is big."

Me: "I'll handle Bree. You'll be fine."

Miksa: "Um. Maybe tomorrow..."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Me: "Miksa, This is a big day for you! It's the first day in your new home! I am so happy to be your new Mama. Bree will learn to love you, too. Just wait...Miksa?"

Miksa: (...)

Me: "I love you, little puppy."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "Bree does not like me."

Me: "I know it seems that way, Miksa. Just give Bree some time."

Miksa: "(...)"

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Me: "Bree, this is Miksa. Miksa...Bree."

Bree: "What is it?"

Me: "It is a puppy, Bree...an Alaskan Malamute puppy, like you."

Bree: "Oh, my DOG! It's white!"

Me: "Still, HE is a Malamute, Bree."

Miksa: "You are big, Bree."

Bree: "It peed on MY BED! Take it BACK!"

Me: "This is Miksa's home now, Bree. We need to be a little patient with him. He's a baby...only 8 weeks old."

Miksa: "I want my Mama."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "I am scared. I want to go home. I need my Mama."

Me: "I'm sorry you are afraid, sweet puppy. I promise to take care of you and love you forever. This is your new home."

Miksa: "(...)"

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Me: "Oh, my. Look at that little face. We should call him Miksa. (Inuit word meaning "soft snow.")

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Bree: "I love you, my beautiful girl. You are the best!" 

Bree: "I'm the best Malamute, ever?!!"

Me: "You are, Bree! I love you so much, that I've decided to get you a companion!"

Bree: "Um. What?!"

Me: "Yes, Bree. I will be bringing home a new puppy for you!"

Bree: "But. Well. That's entirely unnecessary...gulp."

Me. "In a few days, Dad and I will be driving up north to pick up your sweet little companion!"

Bree: "I...aw...a BABY?! I don't think I'm cut out to be a mother! Isn't that why I decided to let you get me fixed?! I thought we had an understanding!"

Me: "Aw...sweet Bree. You'll be fine."

Bree: "..."

Sunny

Sunny was my heart. Sunny was my beloved mare. I owned, loved, and trained Sunny for more than ten years. Sadly, I was forced to find a new home for her several years ago. (for health reasons) I thought I had found an owner who would make a good home for her and keep her safe. I arranged to transfer her ownership to an area veterinarian (Margaret Lane, DVM of Lane Animal Hospital in Chelsea, Michigan) for a very small amount of money. At first I was hesitant about the Lanes, as I had a previous bad experience with Lane Animal Hospital. (They failed to properly diagnose my Springer Spaniel, and, as a result, my dog died.) However, I knew Sunny's Vets well, and was confident that they would keep her safe. As we signed Sunny's sale papers, Margaret Lane stressed to me that she wanted me to always be a part of her life. She told me I would be welcome to visit Sunny as much as I'd like. That was what I wanted to hear. I was relieved.

The ink on those papers was barely dry before I was informed that I would not be allowed to visit, or see Sunny again. I was told by the barn owner that I would be arrested for trespassing if I ever set foot on the property again. I was stunned. The owners were offended that I'd mentioned Sunny was fat. (She was. She was an easy keeper.) I was heartbroken. Margaret Lane, DVM, Richard Dyk, and Susan Dyk (of Dexter, MI) broke their word to me. They lied. I tried to contact Margaret Lane at Lane Animal Hospital, to reason with her. She refused to speak to me. I was stunned. I attempted to contact her again, to retrieve the rest of Sunny's tack. She again refused to speak to me. I left messages at her office, asking her to return my property to my home. No answer. Finally, I was forced to contact the Washtenaw County Sheriffs office, so that ai could safely return to the barn to pick up Sunny's things. I was leery of doing this alone, as Richard Dyk (a local security guard) is a gun nut, and was often armed. I left word at Margaret Lane's office. Strangely, she agreed to SHIP Sunny's tack to my house...only a 10 minute drive. This woman did not have the courage to face me. 

I still grieve for Sunny. Shame on MARGARET LANE, DVM. Shame on JONATHAN LANE, DVM. Shame on RICHARD DYK. Shame on SUSAN DYK. 

Sunny will always be my heart. Sunny will always be my horse.