My dog, Freya, was seventeen years old. She was a Lab/Akita mix with the Lab’s sweet personality and the Akita’s desire to protect home and family. Today, she took her last breath.
Freya was about eight weeks old when I came to know her. A friend, Jeff, found her by the side of the road and gave her a home. Later, he moved onto our land and, of course, Freya came with him. She went into heat, as female dogs do. She gave birth to her first and only litter in my bathroom with me by her side. Seven puppies entered the world starting shortly after midnight. The smallest would fit in the palm of your hand. Each of the other six would have fit into their own shoe box. They were that big. How she had managed to carry and give birth to such huge puppies, I will never know. The smallest died within days of being born. The others were strong, healthy and rambunctious. Freya was an excellent momma. When the puppies were old enough, we found them really good homes. Jeff then told us that if paid for Freya’s surgery we could keep her. So, we did.
Freya loved to chase deer, but never caught one. She loved to bark at bears, but refused to enter the treeline to go after one. We could always count on her meeting us at the car, until recently. She slept at the foot of the bed or on the floor beside it. She loved to come up beside my computer seat to get some loving when I was supposed to be working or writing. She put her head in my lap many a time to get my attention. She loved bologna and ham and chicken and bread. She hated thunderstorms and guns. The entire time I knew her, she only growled at one person, and I did not trust him either. He just felt wrong.
Freya loved to go on walks with me or Joshua or any other family member who was walking. Sometimes we would walk up the road. Other times, we would walk down to our creek where she would wade into the water. She did not play in the water the way Thor does. She would walk in to get a drink and walk out shortly after she was done. Freya definitely did not inherit the Lab’s love of water. She hated baths so much that she would rejoice at it being over.
She enjoyed being in the garden. She loved to lie on freshly tilled soil. She also loved to dig up moles and voles, rabbits and mice. She never once bothered the chickens even if they got loose. She always loved her cats. Over the years, she shared her life with cats, Cheetah, Red, Smoke, Tips, Passion, Cinnamon, Kali, Willow, Puff, Underfoot, Salem, and Callie, along with a few at the neighbors’ houses. In essence, Freya was an excellent dog.
Joshua was two when Freya came into our lives. He is now nineteen. Although we have Thor, life will not be the same without Freya. She made me smile more times than I could ever hope to count. My family and I will miss her. My she be at peace now. I love you, Freya.
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ladydamorea 