I was in the midst of a depression. I was a stay at home mom and my son was four and had been a holy terror for about a year. He would be the sweetest little boy and then all of a sudden turn into a demon- screaming at the least little provocation. Since I was the one who spent the most time with him, all his anger was directed at me.
My husband and I were married for three years at this point. I was still adapting to the married life.
We had a dog and two stray outside cats. All male. Therein lay the problem. I was the only female in a house filled with males. I was so busy trying to find out what was wrong with the boy (turns out it was allergies) that I had no time or money for girlie things.
One day in November, my mom was watching my son because I needed a break. I had an epiphany. I would get me a female dog. I went to the local dog pound. The day I went, of course, all they had were two hound dogs, both male. I wanted a dog that was all girl. I did not want a family dog. I wanted MY dog.
We had a pet shop in my town called One Stop Pet Shop. It was not the best kept place, but I felt the pets were cared for with devotion. Cages were clean and food and water were always available.
That fateful day, when I walked in, I had a small breed in mind. I had a pekingese when I was growing up and she was adorable. I was looking for something like her. Once in the pet shop, however, that thought perished as I set eyes on MY dog. She was a little ball of fluff. She was in a pen with her six siblings. I was so drawn to her that I dropped my purse on the floor and took her out of the pen. When I held her I noticed one of her eyes was milky. The owner came over and explained she was a chow-samoyed mix. Both her parents were registered and were owned by the store owner. She said the mother, the chow, had “nipped” at this little ball of fluff one day and had injured her eye. The vet said it would eventually recover. They had all their shots. The other pups were selling for $200.00! I could have this one for $100.00.
Now, I wasn’t born yesterday. This was just at the beginning of the time when you could sell a crossbred dog for large prices. I felt like this lady was out to make a large profit on her dogs’ indiscretions. I couldn’t fathom spending that much, especially since we didn’t have it in our tight budget. But I loved this dog immediately and she wanted to go home with me! So I asked if she would take a check post dated two days. I must have looked desperate because she said, “Do you have $50.00?”
I paid in cash and took my little snowball home with me.
That afternoon, my husband came home from work to find me on the floor playing with my new puppy.
He said, “What is this?”
“This is my new puppy and girlfriend, Snowball. I needed another female. And she’s cute, too!’
He agreed to share our home with her.
She was adorable. I had her housebroken in two days. She would romp and run with my son. And she used her wily ways with my husband. He would also play with her and even fed her when I couldn’t.
At that time, I smoked nearly three packs of cigarettes per day. I was diagnosed with asthma. One morning in December, I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t breathe. I went to the living room and lay on the floor. I looked at my arms and noticed they were purple and so were my legs. Snowball, was there beside me, and she licked my face, then yelped and ran away. She went to the bedroom and started whining. Mike woke up to let her out and she ran into the living room where Mike found me. He loaded me, Roger and Snowball into the car and took me to the emergency room where he left me so he could take Rog and Snowball to my mom’s. I had bronchial pneumonia.
I went home that evening and became a non-smoker. I would NOT have made it through that transition period without Snowball. I took her for walks and romped with her to keep my mind off smoking. She was also an excellent babysitter. She would follow Roger into the woods and get in front of him and turn him back toward home when he had wandered far enough.
One of her bad habits was chasing cars. We live on a country road and the vehicles she mainly chased were my inlaws’ who are also our neighbors. One day, I was working in the kitchen and heard her barking at a passerby. Before I could get to the door to yell at her to stop, I heard her howl. My brotherliness had run her over. He stopped and apologized. But, really, it was Snowball’s fault and I could not blame him. Mike carried her limp body into the garage. She whimpered and I saw that her hind end had been completely ran over. One of the moms in my son’s preschool class was a vet and they lived in the neighborhood. I called her and she came over and said we were doing all we could for her and time would tell. She suspected a broken pelvis but said there was not a lot they would do for that at her office. By this time, Snowball was pretty big. Mike would go out and help her out of the garage so she could potty and he would beat me to giving her food and water.
She started walking three days after the accident and eventually didn’t even limp. She did however suffer from that dog social disease, indiscretion. She became a mother the following December.
Her first litter of puppies was 9 puppies. They, of course, were named after the reindeer. Rudd was a girl, my son’s favorite. They were all very cute. We couldn’t keep them. They went fast. Comet, Dasher and Rudd were all that were left. A friend of my son’s wanted a dog but his mom said he could only have a female. She came over to our house and begged us to give them Rudd. We figured this left us with two and that should satisfy our son. So we gave them Rudy. I wish we hadn’t, but that’s hindsight for ya.
Snowball, Dasher and Comet roamed all over the area. They were great groundhog hunters. Snowball became preggers again, but we didn’t know until one day I ventured outside and Snowball came from around the corner. She was all excited about something and she acted like she wanted me to follow. So I did. She led me to the woods and there, under a fallen oak tree, was a litter of 18 puppies. This was early January. I wanted to move them to the garage, but Snowball carried them back to the woods. All died from exposure except one. It looked like a baby panda and that name stuck. Panda had to share Snowball’s milk with the other two dogs. They never weaned. Snowball was getting so thin I was afraid she’d die of exhaustion. Mike found a farmer that wanted Dasher and Comet and they moved out. Evidently, Snowball had enough of motherhood because one evening she led Panda on what we thought was a hunt and came back alone. She had led him to a neighbor’s barn and left him there! That farmer found him that evening and took him in and kept him. (He still doesn’t know for sure the puppy came from us. Snowball would go visit nearly everyday! One day he said, “Your dog sure has taken to my puppy. She cleans him and plays with him and then goes home. If he tries to follow, she makes him come back!”)
Considering her proliferation at reproduction, I had her fixed before she could have two dozen puppies. About a year or two later, another dog came into our life that stayed only long enough to have a litter of puppies then run away. She left us with 8 puppies to care for. They weren’t weaned yet and I wasn’t sure what to do. We had a pen they were in and Snowball wanted in very badly. I let her in and she lay down amongst the brood and they began to nurse. My vet said she probably began lactating when the other dog had them and she could hear them. She weaned them at two months, evidently having learned her lesson about too much mothering.
She loved the winter best of all. She would frolic in the snow. She was covered with very dense fur and she was a big dog. She would run down the hill beside Roger’s sled just so she could haul it back up the hill for him. He never seemed to mind. She also would enjoy snowball fights-trying to bite them out of the air. In the summers, she could be found mellowing in the cool waters of the creek.
Snowball gave us many years of pleasure and devotion. She enjoyed hunting and eating roadkill. One cold evening in 2004 I had fed her and put her outside where she preferred to sleep because the house was too hot . We heard a noise in the shed that sounded like howling but it quieted. Then we heard what we thought was a strong wind whining outside. Roger went to investigate to be sure and found Snowball right outside the door. She was laying there doing a very moanful whine and her belly was blown up like a balloon. Mike carried her inside. I listened to her belly and called the vet. She came over five minutes later and said Snowball needed emergency surgery. Mike and I loaded her in the car and took her to the vet’s office. I assisted Judy with the surgery. Judy explained that due to Snowball’s appetite for deer and other varmints there was a lot of hair in her intestine, causing it to twist on itself. She cleaned it all out. When I left, I kissed the sleeping Snowball and told her I loved her. Judy went back and checked on her in the middle of the night and she was doing well.
The next morning I was at work in the group home and Judy called to say Snowball died that morning, probably of a blood clot. I am crying as I type this.
MY dog was a good, beautiful, and kind dog. : )
When I made an iPhoto slideshow about her the next week, I had trouble choosing a song to go with the pictures. I had chosen something like “Seasons in the Sun.” Every time I tried to watch it, I’d end up crying. Mike said, “Let me pick it.” He came up with “Kill the Wabbit” by Ozzie Fudd. It made me laugh. I still to this day watch it and smile, remembering my girl.