Farewell to Our Dear Masha

To the hungriest, gassiest, orneriest, sweetest and loyalest old Dalmation I've ever known.

This morning, February 22nd, 2010, I had just shuffled into the kitchen and had poured my first cup of coffee of the day when I heard a great rattling and thumping coming from the one of the bedrooms. As I was getting up to check it out I heard Bree call out for me. Upon walking into the bedroom I found poor Masha trembling on the floor by the bed and struggling to get up. It was obvious something was terribly wrong. I tried to help her up, but her legs stuck straight out in front of her and would not support her weight. We sat with her for a while trying to calm her and hoping it would get better. Before long Bree called the vet and got her an appointment to go in at 9. I wa afraid she'd had a stroke. The vet said instead that it looked like acute onset canine vestibular disease, a condition affecting the inner ear that makes the dog feel as though they are super dizzy and can't get their balance. This is a condition that will sometimes clear up. The vet put the chances at 50/50. Bree was left with a very tough call to make.

In some ways Masha was responsible for bringing Bree and I together. We used to walk our dogs together over in Cheesman park when we lived in the same building. That is how we first got to know each other. I think Masha was a little protective of Bree, because for a long time I don't think she completely trusted me. I had to earn her trust and affection. She did not take well to my occasional teasing. And I know she didn't like my overly friendly Golden Retriever, Otis, harassing her. Masha was a private animal who liked her quiet time and preferred to be around only a small, select group of humans. She liked certain cats, but I don't think she ever cared much for other dogs. The only purpose they ever really served for her was so she could filch a little food from them.

As a dalmation, she didn't have a big, thick coat of hair, so Masha was often cold. We'd put blankets on top of her when she slept when it got really bad. I remember one night just before New Years we were travelling and stopped for the night a tiny little, backwards town called Horse Cave, Kentucky. We stayed at the Horse Cave Motel. Not only was the room dirty and worn, but it was super cold as well. The heat was barely be functioning. Otis was fine with it, but I remember feeling terrible for Masha having to sleep on the threadbare carpet with no heat. She didn't have a lot of tolerance for for any accomodations rated less than 3 stars. I'm just glad she didn't have to see me bargain with the illiterate hillbilly at the desk just to get the privilage to let her in the room in the first place. The few times we went camping together it was obvious that she wouldn't be happy unless she practically got in somebodies sleeping bag with them.

I always appreciated that she was always game to take walks, though. She didn't care much for rain, and avoided sprinklers like the plague but she never balked at getting the leash on and going outside. Some of my favorite memories in recent years have been of going for walks with the dogs. I used to walk the dogs while pushing Owen in the stroller and later I think I must have developed a reputation in the neighborhood for being the guy who walked around the Baker Neighborhood and down Broadway at night with the dalmation and the German shepherd with the baby chattering away in the backpack.

Bree got Masha as a gift when Masha was only 5 weeks old. She lived in Cincinnati, Blackhawk and then in Denver. She must have shared 10 different residences with Bree, and several with me as well. The old girl turned 14 last November. That's a pretty long life for a dog, but this still came as a real blow. Only the night before I had been walking Masha and Oscar in a snowstorm and Masha was bounding through the snow like a pup. She looked very happy and I might say quite spry for a senior citizen. Mash had an insatiable appetite , and was hungry enough to finish my bagel, even when she couldn't get up out of her bed. I thought that said something about her spirit. Now we are very sad and the house is definitely not the same place without her.

We miss you, Masha.