The Story of My Little Babe.

This morning I'm sitting alone in my quiet house, watching my dog while she sleeps on the living room floor. I'm crying my eyes out because she has no idea that her life is going to end in a few short hours. But I know it, and it's the worst feeling ever. I thought rather than sit here and do nothing, I would take a few minutes to reflect on her life and tell her story.

We got Babe sixteen and a half years ago, and a few weeks after Dacquiri, our first American Eskimo, had to be put to sleep. My brother and I came home from school one day (I was ten years old, he was six) to find everyone sitting in the family room, and an eight week old, tiny white fluff moving around under the chair my Grandma Aiti was sitting in. My parents had gotten Babe from a breeder and surprised us with her.

Babe has been through a lot in her life. Because of my parents divorce and my dad working nights, and moving to a dog UNfriendly neighborhood, my dad ended up giving Babe to Betty Williams, a lady who lived across the street from my other Grandma in Taylor. I was devastated about it but we were able to visit her anytime we went to visit my grandma. Also, when my brother and I stayed with my mom on weekends, we would always stop by and pet her for a few minutes. I even got to live across the street from Babe for the year that I went to college at U of M Dearborn and lived with my Grandma. Betty adored Babe and treated her like a Queen and I was happy about that.

Unfortunately, Betty passed away of cancer about 6 or 7 years later. I was in college at Western at the time, and I found out that her children then took Babe, about ten years old then, up north to live. That was really hard for me and my mom - it was like losing her again, because this time we knew we probably wouldn't ever see her again.

In January of 2006, after I had graduated from Western and had been working at DTA for a year, I had decided to buy my house in Ferndale and would be closing on it in two weeks. My grandma, who had a gift for knowing what was going on with anyone at anytime, found out that the family who had Babe up north was looking to give her away again, because they had much larger dogs who were being too rough with her. I remember contemplating it for all of five minutes before I asked my grandma to help me get her back. So she did just that, while I closed on my house and moved in at the end of January, and three days before Valentines Day, the family drove Babe down to me so I could pick her up.

We all met at a house in Taylor and seeing Babe again was like overwhelming happiness. She remembered me too, and started jumping up and licking my face. I took her leash and we walked out to my car and she jumped right in, as if to say 'ok let's go home!' So we went home and she adjusted well to her new home in Ferndale and to her little brother, Calvin.

I did all this in secret and set up a whole secret plan to surprise my mom with Babe. My mom, being a flight attendant, was out of town while all this was going on, but came home the night of Valentines Day. I had been asking her for a few days prior to come over the night of Valentines Day, because I had a surprise for her. She was skeptical about coming over at 11:00 PM and kept making guesses as to what I had that was so important but had no idea how cool my surprise actually would be.

Finally my mom had finished with her trip and made it to my house. It was snowing, Leah was over, and I could barely stand how excited I was for my mom to arrive. She pulled in the driveway, walked up to my deck still in her uniform, and I was standing with Babe at the back door waiting for her. I'll never ever forget the next five minutes after that. My mom stared blankly at Babe sitting at the door, realized it was her, looked at me in shock, looked at Babe again while I let her outside and said "I got her back for us mom," and she dropped to her knees and cried while Babe jumped up and down and barked and licked her face. From that night on, Babe was back in our lives again.

I knew back then that today would be one of the hardest days of my life and I always dreaded it. It certainly is proving itself to be every bit as difficult as I imagined. But I also am so very thankful that after going to four different homes in her short life, Babe got to spend the remainder of her time with me. No dog should ever have to go to more than one family and it breaks my heart that she had to go through that. But I hope that what she remembers most is her time with me. If anyone reads this and has a dog of their own, give them an extra kiss on the head today in honor of my little Babe.