Kenai Ellingson

Born late 1995 or early 1996 - Died February 21, 2008

It would be impossible to count the number of people who said the same thing when they saw Kenai for the first time:

"He's beautiful!"

I called him my beautiful blue eyed brown eyed boy.

Keenie lived with us for exactly five years and one month. It was at least two years before I really felt close to him, and I'm sure he felt the same way. It took that long before he really gave me any real attention. But, finally, we became good friends, and that bond became stronger and stronger through these past three years. It was worth the wait.

* * *

Monday, February 18th, 2008, when I came home from work, I expected Kenai and Max to either meet me at the door or come outside when I parked in the driveway, Max jumping excitedly while Kenai stood regally, talking his head off. But Kenai wasn't in sight. I looked around the corner and found him lying on the kitchen floor, head down and front legs splayed. I was able to help him to his feet, but he was lethargic and in obvious discomfort. I made a call to the vet and got an appointment for the next morning.

Pictures of his abdomen revealed a tumor about the size of a tennis ball. The doctor and I discussed surgery to remove it and agreed to take it out the next day. I went home to wait. But then more pictures were taken, ultrasound this time, and a second, somewhat smaller tumor was found near the first. And blood tests revealed abnormalities with Keenie's liver. Almost certainly, it was cancer.

The doctor phoned me with the bad news. More discussion, and more . . . we made the decision that the kindest, most humane thing to do would be to let Kenai go. I was crying my eyes out. I asked if they could keep him there and comfortable for another day so I could have time to dig his grave. Yes, they could.

One of my neighbors, Carol, who has four rescue dogs and four rescue cats, offered to help me. I went out and bought a shovel and we went to find a spot near Snuggles, our Keeshond who died in 2003, five days before we adopted Kenai. We found a good spot and I proceeded to pull a muscle, or so I thought, on about the second shovelful of dirt. Carol took over ("I'm a farm girl!") and dug the whole grave. Later, when her husband Bill got home from work, he enlarged and deepened it. Very good neighbors!

I had a 9:30 appointment the next morning. I woke up at 1:45 thinking about Kenai, tossed a bit and got up about two.

Max and I arrived just past nine. They showed us to a waiting room and took the blanket I brought so Keenie could be on it when they brought him in on a stretcher and set him on the floor a few minutes later. Kenai's head was up, his eyes were bright, he was smiling at me, and I was bawling again. How could anything be wrong with him? He was so perfect.

They left us alone for about ten minutes.

Max bumped noses with Keenie and nuzzled his ear and his neck. I did about the same thing, kissed him and petted him and told him he was going to be fine and we'd see him later.

The doctor came back in. She explained exactly what she was doing as she did it. In about thirty seconds it was over. Kenai's heart had stopped. His spirit was free.

I wrapped him up and was helped out to the car and we went home. Carol and I (and Max!) buried him with his giant chewing rope and a doll Carol brought to keep him company. Again, Carol did most of the shoveling. By about eleven, we were done.

Keenie is at rest. I'll never stop loving him.

Kenai Ellingson

We adopted Kenai (aka Keenie, Captain Kenai, Mister Dog, Mister Keen, Keenabird, etc.) January 21, 2003 from

The Humane Society for Seattle/King County

in Bellevue, Washington. He is a Siberian Husky, seven years old, and we are his third family. We've never seen a more loving fellow!

We had decided to browse around some cats and dogs to try to get our minds off the loss of our beautiful Keeshond, Snuggles, five days earlier. All we were going to do, of course, was pet (with only one finger through the front of the cage, of course of course)!

The kennels were non-stop barks from every dog . . . except one. A certain exceedingly handsome fellow was sitting there quietly. When we approached his cage, he pointed his muzzle toward the sky and we heard two beautiful howls, instantly translated as "I love you! Take me home! Now!!" His beautiful eyes, one brown, one blue, looked right into our hearts. But we weren't about to be rushed into anything, so we looked at the rest of the dogs for a few minutes, and then we walked back over to Kenai's cage. When he gave us a few more of those "looks", we arranged for a little têtes-à-tête and decided he was probably for us. But one more test, first -- could he jump into our Jeep? Yep -- so the deal was sealed!

One of those "looks".

Kenai, a keen guy with keen eyes and beautiful white eyelashes.

"I love to run around outside . . .

. . . especially in the snow!"

Dick Ellingson

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