Malachi

I briefly talked about losing my furbaby (dog) in the last blog. This is a blog all about him.

His name is Malachi, it means messenger from god. We didn't name him he came with the name. And WOW did that name fit him. He was a terror, a hug-a-bug, a sweetie, and a disaster all in one dog. Without even knowing it he helped prepare us for what would come with Avalon.

When I was about 4ish we rescued him. He had been chained outside 24/7 with hardly any food or water up until the day we took him. By that time he was 6 months old, talk about a crappy way to start life! What we learn shortly after we took him is that he was part wolf. Not full, not half, not even a fourth. But enough he had some wolfish behaviors, made worse by the beginning of his life.

He was VERY food protective, partially because he never had enough before us and partially because it was his nature. We learned to work around him, and make HIM happy. Not only was he food protective, he was destructive, scared to DEATH of the outside, and of anyone other than us. He dug a hole in our kitchen floor, he bit a piece of our counter off, he bit a bunk out of our dinning room table, he chewed apart door frames and he destroyed random dog cages. He yipped at his own shadow, he ran from squirrels, he cowered if you said boo, he hid from 3 pound Yorkies for god's sake! Was keeping him easy? Not at all! Did we do it? YES because he was sweet and we loved him.

Because he was part wolf he only ever accepted a few people. It took him years to accept my grandparents, aunt, uncle, and godfathers. My mom, dad, brother, sisters and I were all his "Packmates." Yes you read that right, packmates. It meant he loved us and considered us family. He howled for us, not wolfy howled, more "awoo-woo-woooo." (Think dogs talking in a howly way) Malachi and I had a special bond. He was my honest and true furbaby.

Malachi had been very sick for about a month, but things took a terrible turn. He had been having cascading strokes. He had lost his vision about 2 weeks before Friday, his hearing was slowly leaving, his sense of smell was nearly gone, and he was barely eating.Out rule is that if an animal is so sick they are in pain and/or they can't wag their tail and stand up its time for them to be put down. If whatever is wrong is curable then we try that first, but unfortunately Malachi was incurable.

By Thursday August 28th, he couldn't stand up anymore, he quit wagging his tail, and if you touched him to hard he wailed in pain. We spent the rest of Thursday hugging him, and telling him how much we loved him and how much he'd be missed. I am pretty sure I went through 4 boxes of tissues that day.

On Friday August 29th at about 8:45 in the morning my dear packmate and furbaby left our plane of existence. My dad stayed with him for the procedure, but he thinks that Malachi passed before he was even given the medicine. Before he left for the vets I cut a hunk of his fur out, and took off his collar. The fur is in a plastic bag hanging were I can see it everyday and his collar hangs with the collars of other past dogs.

Needless to say I was and still am a wreck.
I love you Malachi and I always will.
XOXO
Aurora

In loving memory of Malachi 9.29.08