Our sweet Laska (AKA Mr. Boy) left us in September. He was 13 years old, and the luckiest dog in the world. There are few families on this planet who would've taken this guy in and loved him for all his days! I say that with great fondness, remembering the wild days of his youth, and how difficult of a dog he was to keep at times! Tony and I adopted this guy from my tech college in 1995. The school obtained several animals from USDA each semester, where we as students, cared for their every need--treated illnesses and gave all necessary shots, treatments, and surgeries--before letting them out for adoption. I will never forget the day we proudly took him home. We moved across the city and upped our rent in order to live in a home where we were allowed a dog. He was our first "baby" and taught us much about commitment, values, and love. It was not easy to keep Laska in his youth. We could publish an entire book of the tales of him digging out and biting through things. We spent oodles of money (money which we did not have in those barely-out-of-college-trying-to-make-our-way days) on fence repair, leash and harness replacement, and copious amounts of rawhide chews. This dog, in those days, was what you'd call high-maintenance! Regardless, we LOVED this dog, and he proved to be one of the most faithful creatures alive. He provided us wonderful companionship, protection, and laughter for many years, even showing gentle patience and loyalty toward our real babies as they were born and have grown. On a cool, crisp, sunny September day this fall, Mr. Boy curled up in his dogloo, drifted off to sleep and then peaceful death. His four canine companions entered into a mournful group howl, and I knew he was gone. It's the end of a chapter in our lives. The boys asked me if dogs go to Heaven. I told them that while the Bible doesn't tell us for sure, I know that animals are very important to God. I for one, believe Mr. Boy's soul is secure in glory.
