AUTUMN LEAVES

As most everyone knows, even when the death of someone you love is no surprise it doesn't seem to help much when the actual event takes place. This is certainly so with the passing of Lakota. There are just so many memories that pop into ones head. That dog enriched my life beyond measure.

Tuesday I took my first walk in over thirteen years without Koty. I went down along the Tobacco River where we so often walked together. It felt so strange and solitary. Even Timmie, bless his little heart, seems at sea without him.

Yesterday I gathered up all of Lakota's leftover food and took it down to the Tobacco Valley Animal Shelter. What a wonderful bunch they are. I am a very big fan and supporter. For such a tiny place, by that I mean tiny town,  they do extraordinary work.
 
Whilst I was driving home I was listening to my iPod in the car and the piece "Autumn Leaves" performed by the fabulous pianist Roger Williams. And a great memory flooded my being. Koty came to me in December of 1999. I was living in California. When he was just shy of six months I moved to Durango, Colorado where we also hiked and hiked and hiked. One of my favorite places is Silverton, CO which is not far from Durango. Silverton is like a ghost town that is very much alive. In the Fall the tourists are gone and only diehard locals remain to weather winter at nearly 10,000 ft. It's a great time to be there.

I decided to take us to Silverton for a couple nights. When we set out it was a glorious, sunny Fall day. On the way up I took a detour down a forest service road that ran along the Animas. I opened the sun roof and cranked up "Autumn Leaves" on my CD player. I have always thought that Roger Williams' rendition is the best. With, the music playing golden aspen leaves fluttered down into the car as we traveled down the bumpy road. I was in seventh heaven. I will never forget the feelings of pure joy. I had so many of those with Koty. Share the moment ....



That night we stayed in a rickety little motel because it was the only one that would allow dogs in the room. The heater didn't work very well and it was colder than a well digger's butt. For Koty the temperature could not have been more perfect. He was a true snowdog. The colder the better. I made him get up on the bed and share the warmth. Koty and I shared a lot of warmth over the years.

©Kinsey Barnard

LAKOTA SUNRISE OCTOBER 1, 1999 - FEBRUARY 4, 2013

As regular readers know, Koty has been battling age and Cushing's disease for nearly two years now. Yesterday he decided he had had enough and headed for the Rainbow Bridge.

Koty came to me on December 1st 1999. He was just eight weeks old. He was the cutest fur ball you have ever seen. In the past thirteen years and four months we have been constant companions. Frick and Frack. Mutt and Jeff. I was Mutt he was Jeff.

Koty was an independent cuss from the get go and ready to go at the drop of a hat. We traveled together in our motorhome for months on end and no one ever had a better traveling companion. In his prime Lakota was as beautiful a Siberian Husky as you will ever see. Wherever we went people wanted to touch him and take his photograph. It was like traveling with a celebrity. Through it all Koty conducted himself with grace an elegance.

Two years ago Koty started losing the hair around his neck. The local vet tested him for thyroid mal- function, but the tests were negative. I started my own diagnostic search and concluded he had Cushing's. That diagnosis was confirmed with the appropriate testing. I'm not a big fan of pharmaceuticals so, with my vets blessing, we went the homeopathic route.

Throughout his life going was all Koty wanted to do. We could have hiked 24/7 and he would still have begged for more. We walked thousands of miles together. Lately, Koty had been slowing down which was not unusual considering the life span of a husky, without Cushing's, is 12 to 15 years.

For most of his life Koty had to be kept under control or he would take off for parts unknown. For the past several months he was allowed to roam. Age dictated he didn't go far.

I have a daily routine wherein I have my lunch, lie down on the couch to read and drop off for twenty to thirty minutes. I am usually rousted by Koty wanting to go for a walk. Even though he had the run of the ranch he wanted me to take him for a walk. Yesterday was no different. Off we went down the forest service road. He seemed to be a little more sluggish than usual and his breathing seemed a bit labored. Normally, he would turn himself around when he had had enough but not this day. He just wanted to keep going. I finally had to say no more we need to go home. About a quarter of a mile from our gate he step off the road into the deep snow and toppled over. He was gone in a matter of minutes. He died doing the thing he loved most in life.

Lakota Braveheart was Koty's father's name and he was his father's son.  A braver heart I have never known. Just know Lakota that you will live on in my heart until the day I too topple over in the deep snow.

Koty died the way he lived, with grace and elegance. There will be another dog but there will never be another Lakota Sunrise.

Some of my favorite photos of Lakota

©Kinsey Barnard