The way my family adopted Honey goes like this. Her previous owners were a couple that were breaking up. They had two pets: Honey the dog (Siberian Husky/German Shepard) and Holly the cat (Himalayan). Both were around 5 years old. The couple gave Honey and Holly to us for free on the condition that the two pets never get separate. We took them both.
Mom and I took care of Honey. We trained her, washed her, picked up her shit, and took her out on walks. For the most part, I was charged with doing these things, but being a very young and very stupid new university student, mom did a lot of work on Honey as well while I was either studying or procrastinating.
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| Honey in her youth. She could outrun and out-wrestle me. |
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| Honey under her tree at Deer Lake |
I have some very fond memories with Honey. Back when she was new to the family, I still did competitive fencing. Roy, my instructor, said I should be running 5 km per day, followed by practicing lunges and footwork in my backyard. Not only did Honey keep my pace, she often made me run faster and longer. When I started doing lunges, she would bark and sometimes jump on me and start to wrestle me.
We used to bushwhack our way off-trail in various nature parks around Burnaby. We often walked through Deer Lake Park in the dead of night; the coyotes howling off in the distance made her very nervous. One of the best memories I have with her was simply going to my old elementary school and playing fetch. She usually demolished any so-called "indestructible" rubber balls my family bought her after one run.
Our "traditions" were often seasonal. In autumn, I would walk with her to a large willow tree which Honey loved to sit under, sniff, and pee on. Years later, I would pick this spot to spread her ashes. In winter, I would spend some days with her in the field at Deer Lake Park, aggressively wrestling with her in the snow. I wore an old jacket, so she could actually pounce on me, bite me, and take me down. I would smack her upside the head, only for her to redouble her efforts. It was all very barbaric and child-like, but by the end, her and I were covered with mud, melted snow and sweat, grinning with adrenaline and satisfaction. She even made me bleed one year. Winter sports like snowboarding or skiing have nothing on these violent encounters with my dog.
After Rob left for Montreal, our cat Holly vanished, the reasons unknown. We speculated that she was killed by a predator, or she was taken by a neighbor. Maybe she went to go look for Rob? We'll never know. Anyways, Honey was now alone in the backyard, but the disappearance of the cat didn't have an effect on her duty as the guard of the house. It was too bad Holly disappeared. She was a part of the family and Honey's sister.
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| We often brought the dog into the house so she could have company. |
Honey established many good relationships with family and friends. She absolutely loved my Uncle Keith from Edmonton. Every time he came to visit, she would spend hours with him out on the patio, sometimes late into the night. Another person Honey really liked was my mom's friend Rick. I've never met Rick, but from the stories I've heard, Honey would follow him around looking for snacks, specifically bacon.
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| Honey and I at my old elementary school in 2011 |
It was tough leaving Honey when I moved to China for work, but it needed to be done. Out of all the things I missed from home, going on a walk with Honey in a clean neighborhood and park was the one thing that I missed the most. Being in China, you learn to appreciate the simple things in life that you've lost in North America, like fresh air and the companionship of a large dog. There's none of that here in China, especially the part about fresh air and a clean neighborhood.
When I came back to Vancouver this year, it was clear that Honey was sick. She couldn't go for a walk for more than 5 minutes without laying down in exhaustion, and there were cancerous lumps on her belly. Usually, large breeds have a life span of 10 to 14 years, and Honey was approaching 15. She could have died anytime during my first 2 years in China, but I like to think she waited to see me one last time. This summer, her health quickly deteriorated and she was in a lot of pain. We put her on meds to ease that pain, but then her legs gave out and she couldn't walk. After I came back from Boston, my family made the tough decision to put her down. My Aunt Peggy advised me to not be in the room when the vet would put her down, but I went in regardless. Honey died in my arms at the SPCA in Vancouver on August 8th, 2012.
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| Honey in her golden years |
That afternoon, I went out for a long walk. While I was at Deer Lake, it began to rain. It hadn't rained for weeks, but in a blink of an eye, Vancouver had a flash thunderstorm. And there was plenty of lightening and rain. So much, in fact, that I almost got hit by some of it while running back home soaking wet. Call it coincidence, or me being a fool for running through a forest of tall trees during a thunderstorm, but to me it marked the end of my companionship with my best friend for a decade. It stopped raining and thundering once I got inside, and it didn't rain again in Vancouver until I left for South Korea. Was it a sign? I've always scoffed when Mom and Dad claim belief in that bunk. But was it? Sure. I'll think that it was a sign this once. It was Honey saying goodbye to me.
Honey put a smile on my face as I came home from work and school everyday. And when I think of her now, I can recount on how I have changed over the last decade. Her presence comforted me during my darkest and saddest moments in university. Walking her around my native Burnaby and Vancouver made me realize how much I love my hometown and its natural beauty. I will have other pet dogs in the future. That is for certain. But Honey was with me as I grew from adolescence into adulthood. For this, her memory will never leave my mind.
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| Goodbye Honey. You'll be missed. |
