Theresa Lewis

The Initiation to the adventures of Misty and Sasha

Before moving to Prince Edward Island permanently, my husband and I would occasionally take our July vacation there to visit family. On one such vacation, we visited the Mic Mac Indian village and ended up in one of their stores. While in the store, my husband spotted a pure white Arctic fox that had been stuffed and mounted on a log. He wanted that dead mounted creature so bad that he had it sent back home to us by air freight.

As beautiful as it was, I saw no purpose for us to have a dead animal on display in our home. Some folks appreciate that kind of thing, but I don’t. Nonetheless, it took up residence in a choice spot in our parlor. I hate to admit it, but it sort of grew on me over time. Still, it served no purpose whatsoever, other than to act as a dust and cigarette smoke collector.

One night in early September that year, I had a dream. I dreamed that I got up to go downstairs. Just as I was going down, two white foxes ran up the stairs past me and startled me. When I actually did wake up, I didn’t share my dream with anyone. I put it down to the fact that that dead animal in the parlor had somehow influenced my sleeping mind and had caused me to dream about white foxes.

About a week later, we were going for a drive in the countryside to visit my uncle. As we drove past a farm house on a country road, they had a sign announcing Samoyed puppies for sale. We decided to stop and have a look at the puppies.

The mother dog had a litter of six males and two females. All that was left were the two females. My husband and his daughter each picked up a puppy and cuddled it. My step-daughter begged us to buy one. They were awfully cute and my step daughter’s birthday was coming up the next month. One puppy was quiet and had soft, warm, calm eyes and the other barked incessantly. Both were sort of a light tan color.

It was easy to choose between the two. We chose the quiet one. Once we got home after visiting my uncle, we gave our new puppy a bath. She came out snow white and really puffy. We named her Misty.

Six weeks later, we received a phone call from the folks who sold us Misty. They said they still had no home for the last puppy. I didn’t know of anyone who was looking for a puppy at that time. When I told the fellow that, he said he was going to get rid of her somehow because she was getting too big at four and a half months old and no one would want her. The way he said that made me think he was going to take her out in the woods and shoot her. I couldn’t even bear to think that, so I said we would take her.

We hopped in the car and headed off to get her. We brought Misty with us to passively let the farmer know that these dogs are supposed to be pure white, not sandy brown. I wondered if Misty and the other dog would remember each other.

When we brought Misty close to the other puppy, they sniffed each other from stem to stern and all parts in between. They exchanged a few barks that let us know that they did indeed remember each other. Both of them happily wagged their tails.

We named the new puppy Sasha. She was a little taller and a little longer than Misty. We could hardly wait to get Sasha home and give her a good bath. Just like Misty, Sasha came out pure white and very fluffy.

I was concerned that Misty might think she was being replaced, so after all the fussing over Sasha, I gave Misty a treat. I gave her a spare rib that we had left over from supper. I pulled the meat off the bone first. To my complete surprise, Misty brought the meat over in front of Sasha, put it on the floor then pushed it towards Sasha with her nose. She then came back to me to get some for herself. I was shocked. I never knew that dogs were capable of being generous, or thoughtful. A good lesson learned.

Later that night, Misty became sick. It was after midnight and I had no idea what to do for her. My husband, step daughter and I huddled around to watch over Misty and she tried hard to vomit.

Sasha also watched. At one point, Sasha went over beside Misty and put her paw on Misty’s back to comfort her. It was plain to see that Sasha was concerned and distressed over Misty’s predicament. Finally, Misty was able to get up the piece of bone that I had missed. After the dogs settled down, we all went to bed.

In the morning, I went downstairs and found the two dogs cuddled up together, sound asleep. It was a real ah-h-h moment. I was so happy that Misty was fine and that both dogs got along with each other.

More stories about the adventures of Misty and Sasha will follow soon.

The End