Category: Rainbow Bridge

Yuma (or Yumaevsky, as he was affectionately called) was a 10-month-old Malamute mix who was found abandoned in a Seattle park and was very nearly euthanized. He had clearly been stored in a cage and produced only for ceremonial occasions to shake, which was the only command he knew. When we adopted him, we discovered that he was out of control. He was destructive, disobedient, and appeared untrainable. His general attitude of defiance did have its amusing moments, though. One evening, my daughters came running down the stairs screaming, “Dad, he has a knife.” Much to my amazement, I discovered that he did indeed have a knife, and even more than that, he evidently knew how to use it. He was holding the handle in his mouth with the blade straight out, and he was charging at us. It took me about 10 minutes to disarm him.

Eventually, long after the trial adoption period had ended, we decided that the adoption simply was not working out, so I arranged to return Yuma to WAMAL. As we were packing his belongings, a strange interaction occurred between him and our other Malamute mix, Yiska. Yiska walked up to Yuma, stared at him for several long seconds, then walked away. Yuma was clearly shaken and even seemed apologetic. I cancelled the appointment with WAMAL and told him that we’d give him one last chance, but he needed to change his behavior. And amazingly, from that point onward, we saw a dramatic improvement. From being out of control, he gradually became a well-behaved friend and companion.

Yuma was always very stoic even for a Malamute (except for feeding time, when he ran around the perimeter of the yard squealing, and when he was trying to climb the walls to better smell the cooking odors wafting throughout the kitchen and breakfast nook). When he was six, however, he became critically ill with peritonitis and needed emergency surgery. In the hospital, his recovery was threatened by his refusal to eat. My younger daughter suggested we bring him food from home (Eukanuba mixed with broth and Parmesan cheese and topped with sprinkles of shredded cheddar). We did, and he gobbled it down. It was a revelation for me: it was the first time that I realized how much Yuma appreciated the food prepared for him, how much he valued his home, how much he loved each of us, and how much he loved his life.

As Saya, our Corgi mix, aged, and as we adopted two elderly dogs, Xena and Kenai, it became clear that Yuma was a caregiver. As Saya struggled with memory loss and disorientation, Yuma tried to guide her and watch over her. When he realized Xena was deaf, he led her to the window so that she could see me getting out of the car. (By himself, Yuma never came to greet me.) When Kenai was very ill, he watched over him and comforted him.

One Tuesday in May 2023, Yuma lost the use of his hind legs. Miraculously, early the following morning, he was able to walk again, although falteringly. Over the next six months, as good days alternated with bad days, Yuma’s mobility and general health gradually declined. But despite his physical decline and despite enormous pain, Yuma tenaciously clung to life. In fact, we marveled at how much he loved living despite his diminished state.

On November 3, 2023, it was clear that his end had come, and Yuma passed away peacefully at home surrounded by his family and his veterinarian with his wife. After his death, we realized that Yuma had fought so hard to live not for himself, but because, as the caregiver he was, he was concerned about us and about how our lives would go on without him. Not only was Yuma a protector, but he also structured my life. Regularity was important to him; perfection was achieved when every day was the same as every other day. He controlled waking time, breakfast time, the time for his long walk (always promptly at 11:30, when he was healthy enough to go for a long walk), dinner time, and pill time. He imposed a structure and a regularity on our lives that filled our lives with joy – and he knew it. It was his gift to us.

St. Irenaeus, the great second century bishop and theologian, wrote that in the new heaven and the new earth at the end of time, not only us, but also our animals, will be given resurrected bodies. I know that, in his stoic way, Yuma will be eagerly awaiting me so that we can once again go on our long walk together.

A Tribute

We lost our sweet hound dog, Cedar, to mast cell cancer in April. It was sad and difficult, but we had time to spoil her (even more than usual) and adjust to the fact that she would soon be gone. When Cedar crossed the rainbow bridge, we were left with Ginny, our sweet 11 year old malamute. Mals are not known to live long lives, but Ginny’s lab work could have been that of a much younger dog. We looked forward to loving her for several more years.

One day in May, while on our usual walk, Ginny slowed down…way down. Once home, she spent the day panting heavily. The vet determined that Ginny had an issue with her spine. We went home with medication and limited hope of recovery. We rode a rollercoaster of despair and hope for a bit over a week as she alternately suffered and rallied. I have always had a strong conviction not to let an animal suffer and, ultimately, we let Ginny go. I was far from ready to say goodbye to her, however I knew in my heart that I would never be ready. Even now, as I compose this, the pain is as raw as it was on June 5th. It’s been almost 3 months and I still shed tears most every day, but it’s time that I finally post a tribute to this beautiful soul.

We rescued Ginny when she was almost 8 1/2 - I knew that it wouldn’t be a long relationship, but I wasn’t prepared for how much I would grow to love her in such a short time. Ginny wasn’t just a happy dog, she personified joy. I desperately miss her excited zoomies when we prepared for a walk, her impatient woos while she awaited her evening treat, her quiet knock on the door when she wanted to come into the house, and even her sassyness when she didn’t get her way. I love gardening and one of Ginny’s idiosyncrasies was that she would stop to smell flowers (literally) when we were out for a walk. Stole my heart every time. She was dog reactive, but adored children - ADORED them - and was incredibly gentle with them. We planned our walks to coincide with recess at the local elementary school and the children would come running to pet Ginny as she pressed her large, fluffy body against the fence, then rewarded them with happy woos. We walked twice a day and many in our neighborhood knew her - it wasn’t unusual for people to stop their cars to say “Hi Ginny!” She left an indelible mark on so many people.

On Ginny’s final day, she was no longer able to walk by the school as it was too far for her weak hind legs to carry her. I loaded her into the car and took her to the local park so that she could walk on the grass. We saw a small child and Ginny walked right by… It was then that I knew she was ready… Her joy was gone. Absolutely the most devastatingly painful decision I’ve ever had to make.

Ginny was amazing and I am so lucky that I had the chance to love her.

Love your pups. Treasure every single day.

I'm Lukas' Mom. This is just meant as a tribute to my boy. We found Lukas through WAMAL. My step-daughter wanted a big dog to take on her walks to feel safe. I wanted a dog who would live longer than a Great Dane or Irish Wolfhound, so we compromised on a Malamute. I'd never had a dog in my life before. She & my husband had, but not a Mal.

We met Lukas in Richland, WA at his 2nd owner's house. It still boggles my mind that we were this magical dog's 3rd family! How could anyone give him up! But at the time all I could think was "we're putting THAT in my Hyundai Sonata and driving back to the Eastside?!?!?" He was HUGE. 110 pounds and super tall. The answer is, yes, he did have gray wolf in his DNA that we did get tested later and that accounts for his huge height. I ended up in the hospital for an operation in those first 2 weeks and then spent all my time at home, alone, with Lukas while I recuperated. He was scared because we were new to him and I was just scared of dogs in general and his size made him truly intimidating. But he needed me and I needed him and we bonded. He took me from dog fearful to dog lover.

I call Lukas a generous dog. Generous with his love, his happiness, his enthusiasm, his time, his attention, and his joy. He could run like the wind and look beautiful doing it, he could curl himself up into a pork bun and snooze half the day, and he could dance, truly dance to bring a smile to your face when he was happy or seeing his friends -- human or canine. Every barista knew him. One had a special mug for him that she would fill with whipped cream and top it off with dog treats. He stopped traffic. Everyone in town knew his name. And he was unaware of how popular he was. No ego. Just happiness to see you and always ready to lick your face and accept a treat.

My family will miss him more than I can ever express. Thank you, WAMAL, for bringing this magical dog into our lives. Loving Lukas has been one of the best experiences of my life and saying goodbye to him one of the hardest. Thank you to everyone who knew him and to everyone who has said something. It does help. I'm glad I could share him for 8 years and share a life with him.

Last month we had to say goodbye to one of our all-time favorite pups — Bear. Our tripod extraordinaire, real-life teddy bear. He would have turned 12 years old today (May 8, 2023).

We weren’t able to add a commercial song to his video due to Facebook and copyright rules. Had we been able to, we would have chosen “Happy” by Pharrell.

Because that’s who Bear was. A happy, fun, funny, very loving moot. And he made all those fortunate enough to have spent time with him very happy too. 

Happy birthday in heaven, Bear.

Cruise (known as Kruise) to our family was an amazing boy who came to live with us for a short span of time but filled our lives with so much love and light.  We were blessed to have this quirky old man join us at the age of 12, and he celebrated his 13th birthday in late November.  From the day we met him our hearts were filled with love for him as he moved into his final "retirement" home.  He was known as the stuffed animal thief in our home as he would quietly walk into the children's rooms and gently pull them off of their bed and take them to his own.  Sadly, he has passed over the rainbow bridge.

Though our time was short, we loved him very, very much and we know he is without pain, with his true pack,  and loving his new furever home (wherever that may be).

Love you Kruise Missal

Dora had been doing very well, but not long after my last email, she became unable to put weight on her leg with the tumor. I was able to manage her pain and help her get around, but the tumor turned ulcerative and as of this morning I believe it is beyond the point of management. It’s a difficult decision, but I do not want her to suffer. I could spend a million years with her and it still wouldn’t be enough. I am so, so grateful for the time I did get with her. Dora is pure kindness and love with some delightful goofiness. I wouldn’t trade my time with her for anything. I am also very grateful for the kindness and support you all have given me.

I just want to share that Sparky died today. He was 14 years 9 months.

He was amazing and had a great life.

Although I was hoping the big guy would have some more months of easy retirement, today I sent him on his way, after only two months with us.

I believe the technical term for his condition was "a mess." I took him in on Friday for blood and urine tests and they indicated a few issues (early Cushings, thyroid deficiency, etc.) His mobility had decreased recently, although he did lose 11 pounds since I adopted him and was "down to" 138 pounds. But he no longer wanted to go on a walk, and had trouble lying down and getting back up. Vet said he thought there was cruciate ligament damage (maybe due to being overweight?)

He also continued to poop in his sleep every night, and leaked urine constantly. Near the end he slept on "gigantic" pee pads which he almost always stayed on overnight. I thought this was an early indication of DM (degenerative myelopathy) -- one sign of which is incontinence. He also stumbled sometimes and his rear legs shook.

Yesterday I discovered that he had chewed off (and ate) the tip of his tail. That meant a visit back to the vet, during which we talked about all the above issues and I decided his quality of life was diminishing; I held him as he died. (The vet said his tail was mostly dead tissue, so he probably didn't feel pain chewing it off. Plus there was not much blood at the wound site; another indication of dead tissue.)

We adopted Kenai, a 9-year-old Malamute, in early August of 2021. His family had surrendered him because they were relocating and feared that he would not survive the trip from the Pacific Northwest to the East Coast. Originally, I was highly suspicious of this explanation and thought that they simply wanted to abandon Kenai. As time passed, however, I realized that they made what was a painful and difficult decision but one that was in Kenai’s best interest.

Kenai had a disease called megaesophagus, which is an enlargement and disfunction of the esophagus. Its underlying cause is often a serious neurological condition called myasthenia gravis. I thought that caring for Kenai would be easy – just administer his daily medication and feed him from an elevated bowl. A trip to the vet, however, revealed that caring for him wouldn’t be so simple after all. It was Kenai – not his bowl -- who had to be elevated, his water consumption had to be strictly monitored and controlled, and quite possibly his medication was ineffective.

When I arrived home with Kenai, Yuma, our 11-year-old Malamute mix, initially seemed to accept Kenai but very quickly attacked him and badly wounded the back of his neck. I wasn’t sure that the adoption was viable but segregating the dogs and slowly increasing their contact helped. So did Kenai’s non-threatening nature, as well as Yuma’s recognition that Kenai was ill and required special treatment. (Earlier, Yuma had been very conscientious in serving as the ears for Xena, an 11-year-old Mal/Husky mix who was deaf.)

Kenai’s adjustment to his new life and to the rhythm of our household seemed almost instantaneous. He was docile and actively friendly to all people and all creatures except deer. He was also extremely obedient – the first Malamute I’ve had who was actually obedient when he wasn’t acting to impress. (That quickly changed as his vitality improved – he became an affectionately defiant dog.) But I realized that he was more than affectionate and friendly – he fell in love with us and became particularly devoted to me.

The depth of Kenai’s love and devotion became evident one day when I was playing with Yuma and his favorite toy. Rather than give it to me so that I could toss it to him, he growled to indicate he wanted me to chase him. Kenai misread the growl as an act of aggression and immediately came to my defense, despite knowing very well that he was not a fighter. Had we not intercepted both dogs, the episode could have ended in catastrophe. But Kenai was unconcerned with his personal fate – his concern was with protecting me.

A pattern soon emerged in Kenai’s care. We would succeed in stabilizing his condition, he would thrive for a brief period, and then he would begin to decline. His neurologist was hopeful that we could stabilize him for a long period of time, but each new round of tests simply brought more bad news about additional complications. In January of 2022, his condition began to deteriorate rapidly. He passed away in the early morning of January 12, slightly more than five months after we adopted him. As he died, he was looking at me with the same mixture of devotion and admiration that he showed throughout his time with us.

In a well-known chapter in 1 Corinthians, the Apostle Paul writes about the importance of love. What we often overlook is why he argues that love is so important: it is the primary force, along with faith and hope, that transcends the boundaries of space and time and carries us into eternity. Kenai loved with the fullness of his being, and I pray that we will be together again in the fullness of time.

It with a completely shattered and broken heart that I have to inform WAMAL that Kiia has passed away today. She passed away in my arms and was not alone. The doctor discovered that she had cancerous masses on/in her organs and one had ruptured, causing internal bleeding. She was 10 years old.

She lived a completely happy and healthy life right till the very end... I will attach some photos of her as I am still too heartbroken to really muster up anything more than that she was so very loved and will be missed so much.

Luna the Alaskan malamute rescue that was rescuing me.
2014-2021
My friend Luna Sleeps
She now sleeps the eternal sleep of this world.
Yet in my world, she lives on forever in my old broken heart.
I grieve deeply her passing too soon in her life, and mine.
She is now free of her bone cancer pain,
Yet I live on with the knowledge of that pain and much more without her.
Even with her pain and disability, she was always there for me.
She slept by my side through my good nights and bad.
For no longer will her cold nose and kisses wake me from my nightmare PTSD dreams.
No longer to be my Camp guardian on mountains treks,
Or beg for a belly rub at my feet, by high country campfire light.
Her Giant presents will be missed by our entire family,
Although none more than me.
She now sleeps pain free, in that golden light under rainbows bright,
I thank God for the special Gift he gave me,
And I,… I could not miss Luna my devoted friend more.

It is with a very heavy heart that I write today. In August of 2013, my then-husband adopted Luna from WAMAL. When we separated/divorced in 2018, he was unable to care for her, and I opted to keep her here in her home. At the time, I notified WAMAL that I would be keeping Luna with support from my next door neighbors. Our arrangement has been amazing, and has ensured that Luna was nearly always with someone, got walked or taken hiking nearly every day, and usually did not sit home alone all day while I was at work.

During the last two years, Luna had been having a number of health issues. It seemed there was always something, between dental problems, wasp sting reactions, skin infections, arthritis, and eye infections. She was super sweet and compliant through all of the care and treatment. In August she developed a front leg limp, which seemed to be arthritis spreading combined with constantly jumping in and out of my Subaru (we went so many places together). In October I discovered that she had a large lump on her side. It turned out to be an intrusive lipoma, which her vet removed. Unfortunately, after that we investigated the limp, and the biopsy revealed osteosarcoma. When treatment options were discussed, I learned that she could be put on chemotherapy, but the focus would be pain management, and she wouldn’t be hiking or taking long walks with the neighbors at all anymore. Luna did not respond adequately to the gabapentin, and completely stopped using that leg. Her vet said she was in excruciating pain, and there was nothing else to do. A consultation with a second vet confirmed that it was time to say goodbye to my sweet girl.

On December 14, Luna had seven different friends come to the house to bid her farewell. It could have been three times that many, because she was so loved, but for the pandemic.

River’s Release came to our home on December 15, and surrounded by loved ones (me, the amazing neighbors, my daughter, my son-in-law, and a dear friend, Luna made her way to the rainbow bridge.

Luna came to us as a very badly behaved wild thing. I didn’t think we would be able to keep her at that time because she terrified me. Over time, with love and consistent training, she became “the goodest good dog”, and completely won over everyone who met her. She changed me profoundly, and will forever remain in our hearts.

Thank you for the work you do

Xena, who was an approximately 10 year-old Malamute/Husky mix, came to us in September of 2020 after she was abandoned, rescued, and spent two months in a loving foster care home. Xena’s health was poor: her teeth were in bad condition, making it painful for her to eat kibble (she was the first dog to whom I fed canned dog food); her hips were painful, often making it difficult for her to walk; she was deaf; eye infections made it difficult for her to see; and despite a great diet in foster care, she remained quite emaciated. It was also clear from her behavior – she often kept her distance to avoid human contact and initially tried to sleep outside, even though she had clearly once been an indoor dog -- that she had lived a lifetime of abuse and neglect.

Neglect and abuse, however, do not define who Xena was. In Laudato Si, his encyclical on care for our common home, Pope Francis writes that God has given all creatures a unique voice, one which we have no right to silence and one which we ignore only at great cost to ourselves. Xena’s voice was a particularly loud one. This was not because she howled or made other noises; she was almost entirely silent. Instead, Xena spoke through her behavior. Despite her abuse, she was meek, quiet, unassuming, and undemanding. But hers was not a meekness borne out of weakness or avoidance. Xena had an enormous inner strength and an ability to carve out for herself the space she needed to preserve her identity. That was expressed by her appropriating the family room as her spot for morning and afternoon naps, and her obvious annoyance when her private space was violated.

It was also clear that, despite all the hardship and suffering she had experienced throughout her life, Xena continued to hope for a better future; she longed for a home where she would be accepted and loved. After her arrival, she worked extremely hard to adapt to the rules and the rhythm of our household so that she could be a reliable and trustworthy pack member. In fact, the ease of her adaptation is almost shocking in view of her deafness. Her hope was also expressed in her radiant smile, a smile that would literally fill a room. We always saw it as she watched me prepare her breakfast and dinner, as she watched me get out of the car when I returned home from an outing (our male Mal mix, Yuma, alerted her to my arrivals), and above all during twice-daily pill time, which was Xena’s favorite time of the day.

Xena passed away on the evening of Thursday, March 4, after a five-week battle against liver cancer. Unlike many animals and people, her hope was realized, and she found the love, the safety, and the acceptance that she sought. She passed away very peacefully, and now her suffering is at an end. But Xena lives on through her loud voice: her meekness in the face of hardship and her determination to preserve her dignity despite her circumstances serve as a model that can instruct and inform us. My own hope is that I can grow in a meekness that will come close to matching Xena’s own.

I have to sadly, and with a shroud over my heart, announce that Fin, after more than a decade of companionship and happiness, has pass over the rainbow bridge. He is missed by us ever so greatly.

Shyla was abandoned by her family when they moved out and left her. She was discovered chained up behind a shop almost a week after they had moved out...no food, no water and Shyla was in pretty rough shape. She was immediately taken to a vet and it was determined that Shyla's heart rate was very low and the vet couldn't get any lung sounds so she did a couple x-rays and found Shyla had a very large dilated heart (dilated cardiomyopathy) and could have a possible heart based tumor. Shyla needed to see a cardiac specialist and we arranged an appointment and was preparing her to be transported to the Seattle area. The vet put Shyla's prognosis as guarded to poor. She also had a mass on her tail that maybe was cancer, but it was the least of her worries at the moment. There was a lot of staining around both of her eyes and she was sneezing which may have been an upper respiratory issue.

Shyla was 5 years old, she was underweight with her ribs prominent. It was not ‘just’ a week of no food or water that took its toll on her body—it was a long period of neglect.

Shyla passed away peacefully in her sleep last night at her foster home. At least she didn’t die alone chained behind a store. Rest in peace dear Shyla and know that there are many, many new friends awaiting as you cross the Rainbow Bridge.

Thank you to Yakima Valley Pet Rescue who initially stepped in to help Shyla and to foster dad Jason and to our own board member Kristi who was working so hard to put all the puzzle pieces together so Shyla could receive the care she needed.

We recently had to say goodbye to our sweet old girl, Swisher. We adopted her Labor Day 2010, she was estimated to be 5 or 6 years old and had been rescued (as Kali) from a puppy mill operation in Montana. We are forever grateful to WAMAL and all the fabulous volunteers who brought her to us.

Swisher was such a good girl; we also knew her as our hilarious goofball, a great trail runner in her prime, and we are so lucky to have been members of her pack.

Rest in peace, Princess Monster Truck. Love --Adam and Brie

Kaeto was such a special pup, who loved everyone in his life and was loved just as much in return.

Rest in peace Kaeto, no longer by our side but forever in our hearts.

I woke up this morning with a Malamute-sized hole in my heart….we had to have Chico put to sleep yesterday. He has had degenerative myelopathy (similar to Lou Gehrig’s disease in humans) which progressively worsened over the past few months. While he had a warrior spirit and a heart of gold, his poor rear legs got to the point where it became painful to walk and he spent most of his days sleeping. I was blessed to be this boy’s Mom for five years after falling in love and adopting him from WAMAL. He was the sweetest dog in the world and, while selective with friends, he loved his people pack to the moon and back, just like we loved him.

Earlier this month my mom and I noticed the rainbow image on his paw, and she suggested it might be a sign. I know he is no longer in pain and is enjoying adventures with a lot of great people and pets over the Rainbow Bridge but he left this Mom and also his grandparents broken hearted here on earth.

Asher came to us as an emergency foster. We took him in and thought, what in the hell did we get ourselves into?? He had some strong and aggressive ways…not to mention his stubbornness. He spent 2 weeks on a 25-foot lead attached to my bed just so he would not bite anyone. Every day I would give him tons of attention and pets, then take him for walks around the yard. Oh, he would snap at me, but I would just stay calm and keep trying with him. Asher would try to bully you any chance he got up to the day he left us. After about two weeks I told Wamal I was going to just keep him. He was ornery and a handful but I could see beyond that to his possibilities. As time went on Asher became my best bud. Asher was on thyroid medication but due to some of his aggressive ways it was suggested we reduce the amount. It did make a difference once his levels were re-adjusted.

Asher loved to go for car rides and occasionally cussed out other drivers if we sat in traffic too long. At home Asher would always lay looking away from me in a doorway as if he were protecting me. He was fearless except for a running vacuum cleaner. But if you turned it off and walked away, he would head butt it. One of my favorite memories, and I do have a lot of them, was when I was raking up leaves. I had put them into six piles. Asher laid on the deck the whole time watching me. I finished and was taking a break and all the sudden he got up and ran through every single pile of them then looked at me with this smirk. I got them all raked back into piles again and Asher then went from pile to pile and peed on them. Hence his nickname “little pisser”.

Asher was always by my side. He would always greet me with a smile and woo. He had to give my wife kisses every night before bed and if she went to bed before he got them, he would wake her up. If you let him, he would bully until the day he passed. He loved his stuffed hedgehog and his treats that Aunt Rickie would send. For a pup that started out so aggressive he sure loved to give his kisses. He was not a cuddle dog but he always wanted to be by my side or “protecting” me. I would go outside with him at times and just sit with him. That was all he wanted.

One thing Asher taught me was that you can take a dog that people have given up on and if you show them they are wanted and loved they will show the same in return. And there is no better reward than watching a dog that was unwanted or even abused settle in and feel safe. That is a feeling I cannot describe. But I’m ready for the next pup that will need me…and that I will need in return.

We are sad to announce the passing of Tucker, one of our long-fostered Mals. Tucker had a very sad early life and came into rescue in mid-2015 presenting quite the challenge. He reportedly had been abused by 2 previous owners and tied up outside.  Kids had thrown rocks at him and he bit one.  Tucker was a big dog, one of the ‘giant’ Mals.  Long time volunteers Stephanie and Jeremy had experience with giants and difficult behavior, “so I guess that's how we got assigned to him”, shared Stephanie.

“He was with us 3 weeks and we took our time as you could see he wasn't very trusting. We had a couple potential adopters early on but the intros didn't go well. He was a very sweet dog that just needed love and a stable home.  We only had him a year before our first son came along and we weren't sure how that would go. But Tucker grew to understand the baby and they had a sweet relationship.  He had his play time every night at 7:30 of soccer...he loved when we'd kick the ball and he'd try to catch it and roll it back to us. He loved walks and hikes. No interest in squirrels but he loved bunnies-not to eat, he wanted to be friends…..haha!

He'd go to the bedroom at his bedtime nightly and sleep in the same room as us as he always wanted to be near his humans. We went on many adventures to Orcas Island, Maple Pass, multiple camping trips, Oregon, Long Beach and more with him. He was in his element then and especially loved to splash in the water.

As he got older the hips started to give out on him and walks became harder to do. And he couldn't control his bladder anymore. He became an outdoor doggie as he couldn't make it up the stairs to get inside. But he still got walks and love and attention. We miss him lots!”

Tucker was also blessed with a having ‘godmother’, Tamra, active in his life. “Tucker was always very alert, calm, intuitive and empathetic.  I knew not to stare at dogs, but he seemed to seek out your gaze like he was trying to see what was going on with you.  And genuinely cared.

When my job made it really difficult to think about adopting another dog, I was thankful to have WAMAL and to be able to work with so many dogs, but Tucker was always special to me so when he was fortunate to go live with Stephanie and Jeremy, I had the opportunity to take him on trips to Methow Valley for hiking and Whidbey Island. We also went on a number of snow-shoeing day trips.  And I dog sat for him during summer and winter holidays. 

With his size, presence, and good looks, he was always getting attention on walks and he was always a good walker and hiker.  When he traveled with me and met up with my friends, he always liked to be a part of the action, and he would play bow with my friends' dog who we think was intimidated by Tucker's size and good looks as he'd shy away whenever he saw Big Tuck coming.  Lol.

For a malamute, Tucker was very responsive and listened well. I found him very easy going and cooperative.   He liked attention but also liked his downtime too.  He was a gentle giant and very soulful.  He is missed in big ways!!”

Stephanie and Jeremy and family, THANK YOU so much for giving Tucker such an amazing home and so much love. And thank you to volunteers Danya, Tamra and Julie who took Tucker on adventures and were there to help when the going got tough.  Tucker leaves a very ‘giant’ hole in our hearts.

We are so grateful to have her for her last three years and grateful for WALMAL for bringing her into our life.

I've attached a few photos :) Marissa and I are so grateful to have spent Shasta's last three years together! Shasta loved long walks and wading in the ocean. We had some great outdoor adventures before she preferred to sleep on her fluffy bed in front of the fire. We are so grateful for WALMAL and Old Dog Haven for connecting us to Shasta. We'd encourage others to think about adopting older adult dogs!

Yiska is a Navaho name that means the night has passed. We named our two-year-old Malamute mix Yiska because his night had passed – he was scheduled to be euthanized on the day that WAMAL removed him from a kill shelter. It was always clear to me that Yiska understood just how close he had come to death.

When my late wife Vanessa and I first met Yiska, he was waiting for us in an enclosure. As I entered, our eyes made contact, and Yiska immediately approached me, jumped on me, and stuck his face in my face as he carefully examined me. (Vanessa always insisted that Yiska desperately needed glasses.) I knew immediately that he was our dog. (Interestingly, we later discovered that Yiska disliked and distrusted men.) Unfortunately, he then did the same thing to Vanessa. Because she was short, he towered over her, and she was frightened. He then topped off his performance by going behind her, jumping on her shoulders, and inspecting the back of her head. While it was obvious to me that Yiska was our dog, Vanessa was not convinced. We did, however, finally adopt Yiska and brought him home.

Yiska had an unusual case of separation anxiety – it surfaced whenever I left home, even if Vanessa or our daughters were home. Its severity, of course, was worse when no one was home, as we soon discovered. The first time we left Yiska home alone and uncrated, we came home to find garbage strewn all over the floor, the blinds in the kitchen and upstairs bathroom pulled down and chewed to pieces, the lower kitchen cabinet doors open with broken dishes strewn on the floor, and the family room furniture pulled out from the wall into the center of the room. It was an impressive scene of carnage and devastation.

Along with medication, we tried crating Yiska when we left home, with indifferent success. Although I reinforced the cages, a heavy-duty crate lasted on average for only about three weeks. Just maintaining a viable crate for Yiska proved to be a major challenge.

You might wonder why we wanted to keep a dog who was so destructive. Part of the reason is that, in the end, he only destroyed dishes and household possessions, some of which we replaced and some of which we realized we didn’t really need in the first place. But more importantly, in his own life, Yiska manifested love, commitment, and faithfulness. Dogs by their very nature are faithful; Yiska took faithfulness to new levels. He was absolutely devoted to me, had an uncanny ability to anticipate my thoughts, and was always eager to provide whatever support he could. He was an amazing, loving friend and comrade. The trail of devastation that he left behind is trivial in comparison to the strength of his personality and his love.

The first time Yiska’s night approached, it passed him by through an act of mercy. No living being can forever avoid nightfall, however. On the evening of Monday, July 15, 2019, at the age of 13, Yiska’s night did not pass. He lives on in our memories, and he lives on in his legacy of hope, faithfulness, and love.