In Memory of Our Husky Wolf

One cold, dark evening as my husband, David, three children, and I entered a parking lot in Wasilla, Alaska, we saw a man with a box of puppies. It was obvious he was looking for people to adopt them, and my husband and I knew we were silly to even go look since we had a soft heart for animals. But silly or not, we couldn't resist.

As we peered into the big carton, the man explained that he hated to give up the pups, but he was a sledder with dog team and couldn't afford to feed more animals. He told us the puppies were husky/wolf mix and we'd taken note that some of them had blue eyes.

One fluffy, gray pup came bounding over to our side of the box, leaped up toward us on her hind legs, her body language shouting, "Pick me! Pick me!" Before we knew it, she was in our arms licking our chins as we passed her around our family.

The man told us we'd picked his favorite, and he'd been calling her Star because of the white blaze on her forehead. We couldn't resist. We told the man we'd take her. He looked a bit sad upon letting her go, and so I assured him we'd take good care of her, and we would keep the name he'd given her. He wanted our phone number and we gladly gave it, and he gave us his. That was the beginning of 15 years of friendship with our husky/wolf.

She was a little nervous as a youngster and piddled on the floor in her excitement, but otherwise, we couldn't have asked for a better dog. Our house was almost always teaming with young people - neighborhood kids, our children's school friends, and later, after Star had grown out of her piddle problem, I took in regular babysitting as well.

There was never a question as to her love and loyalty with the exception of two people. They were adults that somehow made her uncomfortable, but her reaction was to lay down at a distance and watch them. In all the years we had her, she never threatened anyone, and in her doggy way, she let it be known she didn't like violence.

We had an older dog, Kiska, a Toy American Eskimo, when we adopted Star. One day the neighbor's German Shephard came into our yard and almost wiped up the ground with poor old Kiska, and when Star realized what was happening, she went balistic! From that day forth, any animal could roam into our yard without a fuss from Star, except for the German Shepherd from across the way.

Star gave us a few laughs, too. One day after we'd beached our canoe after a fun day at Seward, she wandered off a short distance to explore. A woman saw her on a rise several yards away, and the lady began calling in alarm to her husband that there was a wolf! It was then that Star loped down to us, and the woman's voice trailed off into nothing, and she and her husband went about their business as we chuckled to ourselves.

Another time, David took Star out cross country skiing in our neighborhood. They hadn't gone too terribly far before she decided she'd just as soon go home. My husband said that she stopped in the trail and nonchalantly looked up at the sky, then looked to one side, and then the other side, and watched some birds in the tree tops. If she could've rolled her eyes and whistled while she tried to look innocent, she probably would've. Then all at once she turned tail and ran for home!

Since we weren't ones to let our dogs run unsupervised, normally David would've been pretty unhappy, but this time her actions were so amuzing he couldn't help but laugh. She was a good girl, and came straight home so no real harm was done.

A few years after we'd adopted Star, Kiska passed away at the age of 16, and it was then Star became the number one dog in our family until her passing when she was 15 years old. She never, in all her adult years, disgraced herself. She was a true, loyal, loving friend. We couldn't have asked for better.