MacKenzie has left this world for another in her typical, quiet way. Baxter chose her, a tiny blue and brown eyed deaf dog more than eight years ago and I have had the joy of living with and learning from both of them. My original pack is now together again.
She taught us all how to communicate with our bodies and not our voices, how to watch instead of just listen. The world outside our front door was a very scary place for her, but she learned to live in it in her own way and we rejoiced in the small things that she discovered along the way. For almost two years she battled auto immune disease, the disease and its medications took a toll on her body but not her spirit. She had to have frequent vet visits, overnight treatments and even enjoyed hydro therapy and her world became a little larger and less scary.
She most enjoyed a soft blanket and a warm lap, where she could lay all day and be quite content. She didn't enjoy toys or trips in the car or playing with other dogs, but if you wanted to witness pure canine bliss then give Kenzie a tennis ball, which would result in hours of play. She was Baxter's shadow, and he protected her until his last day. She was in many ways lost without him. She accepted only three other dogs in her life – her Shiba pals Yoshi and Tiger and Fenway. The last weeks of her life she once again had a brother to snuggle with, to fetch her ball for her and to keep her entertained.
My littlest Keika, I will miss you beyond words. I will think of you every day when the geese fly overhead and will listen carefully for your barking.
Her brothers Baxter and Indigo.
"There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other. To those who have never lived through its turnings or walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible. Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given. And the wonderful memories we are left with last forever.” - Suzanne Clothier
She taught us all how to communicate with our bodies and not our voices, how to watch instead of just listen. The world outside our front door was a very scary place for her, but she learned to live in it in her own way and we rejoiced in the small things that she discovered along the way. For almost two years she battled auto immune disease, the disease and its medications took a toll on her body but not her spirit. She had to have frequent vet visits, overnight treatments and even enjoyed hydro therapy and her world became a little larger and less scary.
She most enjoyed a soft blanket and a warm lap, where she could lay all day and be quite content. She didn't enjoy toys or trips in the car or playing with other dogs, but if you wanted to witness pure canine bliss then give Kenzie a tennis ball, which would result in hours of play. She was Baxter's shadow, and he protected her until his last day. She was in many ways lost without him. She accepted only three other dogs in her life – her Shiba pals Yoshi and Tiger and Fenway. The last weeks of her life she once again had a brother to snuggle with, to fetch her ball for her and to keep her entertained.
My littlest Keika, I will miss you beyond words. I will think of you every day when the geese fly overhead and will listen carefully for your barking.
Her brothers Baxter and Indigo.
"There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other. To those who have never lived through its turnings or walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible. Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given. And the wonderful memories we are left with last forever.” - Suzanne Clothier
MacKenzie has left this world for another in her typical, quiet way. Baxter chose her, a tiny blue and brown eyed deaf dog more than eight years ago and I have had the joy of living with and learning from both of them. My original pack is now together again.
She taught us all how to communicate with our bodies and not our voices, how to watch instead of just listen. The world outside our front door was a very scary place for her, but she learned to live in it in her own way and we rejoiced in the small things that she discovered along the way. For almost two years she battled auto immune disease, the disease and its medications took a toll on her body but not her spirit. She had to have frequent vet visits, overnight treatments and even enjoyed hydro therapy and her world became a little larger and less scary.
She most enjoyed a soft blanket and a warm lap, where she could lay all day and be quite content. She didn't enjoy toys or trips in the car or playing with other dogs, but if you wanted to witness pure canine bliss then give Kenzie a tennis ball, which would result in hours of play. She was Baxter's shadow, and he protected her until his last day. She was in many ways lost without him. She accepted only three other dogs in her life – her Shiba pals Yoshi and Tiger and Fenway. The last weeks of her life she once again had a brother to snuggle with, to fetch her ball for her and to keep her entertained.
My littlest Keika, I will miss you beyond words. I will think of you every day when the geese fly overhead and will listen carefully for your barking.
Her brothers Baxter and Indigo.
"There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other. To those who have never lived through its turnings or walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible. Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given. And the wonderful memories we are left with last forever.” - Suzanne Clothier
She taught us all how to communicate with our bodies and not our voices, how to watch instead of just listen. The world outside our front door was a very scary place for her, but she learned to live in it in her own way and we rejoiced in the small things that she discovered along the way. For almost two years she battled auto immune disease, the disease and its medications took a toll on her body but not her spirit. She had to have frequent vet visits, overnight treatments and even enjoyed hydro therapy and her world became a little larger and less scary.
She most enjoyed a soft blanket and a warm lap, where she could lay all day and be quite content. She didn't enjoy toys or trips in the car or playing with other dogs, but if you wanted to witness pure canine bliss then give Kenzie a tennis ball, which would result in hours of play. She was Baxter's shadow, and he protected her until his last day. She was in many ways lost without him. She accepted only three other dogs in her life – her Shiba pals Yoshi and Tiger and Fenway. The last weeks of her life she once again had a brother to snuggle with, to fetch her ball for her and to keep her entertained.
My littlest Keika, I will miss you beyond words. I will think of you every day when the geese fly overhead and will listen carefully for your barking.
Her brothers Baxter and Indigo.
"There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other. To those who have never lived through its turnings or walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible. Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given. And the wonderful memories we are left with last forever.” - Suzanne Clothier
