Four Years A Bride: How I Almost Died

Part 1      Part 2

After dating Alex about a month, we had already told each other the dreaded L word.  I was sleeping over at his place every day, and nights that I wasn’t at his house, we were texting each other all night because we couldn’t sleep without the other one.  When I worked on base, he would walk to my work, pick up my car, fill it up and go grocery shopping to make sure I ate my veggies.

If there was a rare occasion that we both had a day off, we spent it in his dorm room watching movies and cuddling.  I had been in love once before, but never like this.  It was intoxicating.  When we were together, I felt complete and at peace, when we were apart, I ached for him in a way I never knew a person could ache for someone.

Once a year I would fly home to Minnesota to visit my family, always on my mom’s dollar because I was poor.  She would fly me home, I’d see the dentist and any other medical check ups I needed, mom would take me clothes shopping, my friends would throw a party and we’d either get drunk or just hang out, and so on.  This trip, I remember a very distinct conversation with my mom about my relationship with Alex.

I told her that I was going to marry Alex.  I just knew that I was going to marry him.  Alex and I started joking about it after two weeks of dating, saying “if we get married.”  When the one month mark hit, we were saying “When we get married” and neither of us corrected the other.

My mom told me that I needed to wait at least six months so I could get to know him.  She said that I needed to be careful because he could be someone who is abusive, and to be fair, she made a lot of really good points.  The points she made, honestly, are points I make to people when they mention marriage after knowing someone for a year.

But I was 20 years old, I thought I knew everything.  I told her that we were going to get married probably in June, and while he hadn’t proposed yet, I knew he was thinking of doing it, he had told me as much.

But not this romantic

But not this romantic

My mom tried to talk me out of it and she said she wanted to meet him before I considered marrying him and that we should plan a trip to visit all of our families before getting married, but we lived in Alaska and he was newly enlisted, he was just as broke as I was.    But as always, my mom knew best, and her advice was really solid advice.  But I just didn’t want to listen.

I got my wisdom teeth taken out two days before I flew back to Minnesota, and the day after I was so high on pain meds that I didn’t remember my brother sitting with me on the couch singing Rocky Horror Picture Show.  Nor do I remember my step dad talking to me, or anything.  I do remember yelling at my mom that I wanted a hamburger smoothie and that I had to have Greek yogurt, to which she laughed and told me to shut the hell up.

The day I flew back to Alaska, Alex was going to meet me at the airport.  He had my car, after all.  When I landed in Fairbanks, I was still a little out of it from the meds, but I saw him at the baggage claim, standing there with a worried look on his face.  When he saw me, he opened his arms and I ran to him, refusing to let go of him.  There were a few people there cooing and awing, but we had only been apart a week, and to us, it felt like an eternity.

We got my suitcase and went back to his dorm.  We fell asleep holding hands.

The next morning I had to go back to Fairbanks to find out when I was supposed to work at the deli, and I knew that I had to work that night at the bowling alley, but I was still kind of out of it.  I had to take a Vicodin the night before and I don’t think it was completely out of my system.  I was also jet lagged.  That day, it was mid-January and it was -44 outside with drifting snow.

I was a fearless driver, never afraid of speeding and never afraid of anything happening to me because come on, nothing bad ever happens to me.  I was naïve.

I fell asleep behind the wheel for an instant, going 65 on the highway with drifting snow.  When I woke up, I saw I was going head first into a snow bank, I overturned, spun out of control, and my car flipped and landed in the ditch.

It all happened so fast that I didn’t even realize what was happening.  The car was spinning then suddenly I was upside down, the roof of my car had caved in and was nearly touching my head, the engine turned off, stuff was everywhere, and I was staring at a St Christopher medal that was on my visor.  I saw cars driving by, I saw the snow falling, and the seatbelt was causing me pain for restraining me in my chair.

I actually never saved the picture of my flipped car, but it looked pretty much like this.

I actually never saved the picture of my flipped car, but it looked pretty much like this.

I remembered I started screaming, but it seemed so far away.  I didn’t feel like I was in my body because I was so scared.  I remember seeing a woman a few feet away from my window, looking in to the window.  I started to pound on the window, screaming for help and she ran away.  I was trapped upside down, unable to move, my body paralyzed with fear.  I found my phone somehow and dialed the last number I had called.

It was Alex.

He picked up on the second ring, a little bit of fun in his voice.  “Did you butt dial me?” he said with a chuckle.

“OH MY GOD ALEX I JUST FLIPPED MY CAR AND I’M TRAPPED AND I’M SCARED AND I’M UPSIDE DOWN AND I JUST PAID OFF THIS CAR AND CUT THE INSURANCE LAST WEEK OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO DIE!”

Let me tell you, not the best way to go about this kind of situation.  I could only scream.  I remember him trying to calm me down and say it without screaming and I continued to be hysterical, screaming that I was probably going to die because it was -44 outside that day and I was in the ditch somewhere between North Pole and Fairbanks.   Oh, and because I was trapped upside down.  Can’t forget that bit.  The blood was going to my head.

He said he was going to hang up and have the dispatcher call me.  I cried that I didn’t want him to hang up and he did.  A few minutes later a dispatcher called me and told me to stay calm.  In the few minutes where I was waiting for my phone to ring, I pushed myself up into my seat and unclasped the seatbelt and slid to the roof of my car, laying on the ceiling, no longer upside down.  The dispatcher asked me if I was okay, and I told her no because I had just paid off the car and cut the insurance.  She asked me if I was physically injured and I told her no.

However, when you have that much adrenaline, you don’t feel anything.  The fire department, an ambulance, and the state troopers arrived and they asked me if I could crawl to the back seat and climb out the back window.

I had so much shit in my car that I couldn’t leave the front seat.  They asked me if I had a blanket to cover my face and I pulled it over and covered my face while they used a sledge hammer to break the window.  The pulled the blanket away from me and placed it over the broken glass while I crawled out the window.

Since this day was a horrible day, my ass got stuck in the window.  Since I was still hysterical from flipping my car and being totally fucking broke, I started screaming because my ass was trapped in that fucking car.  I think the responders were trying not to laugh at my yelling, “OH MY GOD MY ASS IS STUCK! I’M GOING TO DIE!”

I got into the ambulance and they gave me a once over, making sure I still had feeling in my legs and arms, checking my blood pressure, which was 180 over 120.  Apparently that’s really fucking high.

My eyes were fully dilated, I was shaking, I was cold, but I was alive.  They told me if I hadn’t of worn my seatbelt, I’d be dead.  If it had been summer and there was no snow to cushion the fall, the car would have compressed more and I would have died, if the glass had shattered in the right way, it would have blinded me.  All the conditions were perfect for me to come out injury free for the most part.

As they were telling me this, I realized my hand feel really warm.  I looked down and saw that it was covered in warm blood.  Since my adrenaline was still ridiculously high, I screamed “OH MY GOD I’M BLEEDING TO DEATH!”

A small piece of glass was taken out of my hand and they put a band aid on it, cleaning the blood off.  The cut didn’t even need stitches, but my blood pressure was so high that it was flying out of me.

They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I didn’t have health insurance so I couldn’t afford it.  They called a tow truck and I waited in the troopers car.  I got my phone and called Alex, telling him I was fine and I was broke and had no idea what to do.  I called my mom and got her voicemail, telling her to call me when she promised to not get mad.  I called my roommate to tell her that I got into an accident and I was okay.  I called my managers at each job and told them that I couldn’t work that day because I had no transportation because I totaled my car.

When my mom called me, she said she wouldn’t get mad.  She promised.  And I told her I flipped and totaled my car. She asked me if I was hurt, I said no.  Then she started to scream at the top of her lungs.  I almost dropped the phone.

The tow truck driver yelled at me because the key was missing from the ignition, but I had no idea where it had fallen.  I thought it was in the engine.  To this day, I have no idea where that key went.  They towed the car to the house I was staying at, and I did the one thing that I had wanted to do since the car started spinning out of control.

I really had to shit.

That whole, “Always wear clean underwear when you get into a car accident,” is no lie.  My god, since the moment the car went upside down, it was painful to hold in.  It was so fucking insane, I was so relieved to see a toilet.  There is no greater happiness than seeing a toilet after you total your car.

Hello beautiful... I am going to destroy you

Hello beautiful… I am going to destroy you

My coworker at the bowling alley offered to pick me up and take me to the Air Force Base to see Alex, and I really needed to work.  I went into work, letting Alex know I was on base, and told my manager that I wanted to work my shift after all.

She said I was fucking crazy.  And she was right.  I should not have worked.

Now one thing, when I flipped the car, I almost died.  I saw my life flash before me, but not like seeing all these things that I had done.  I saw all the things I didn’t do.  All the things I wanted to do in my life.  I saw Alex in a way I never saw him before.  I saw myself growing old with him, I saw him not just as my boyfriend, but as my companion, my husband, my soul mate.  When I was trapped upside down, all I thought through all of that, besides emptying my bowels, was, “If I get out of this alive, I have to tell Alex I love him.”  Alex and I had talked marriage, but I didn’t realize just what that entailed, and after flipping my car and nearly dying, I realized exactly what that meant.  I didn’t want to spend another day without Alex.  I wanted to grow old with him.  I wanted to wake up next to him every day, to fight with him, to buy a house together.  I wanted all that mushy stuff.  I was tired of moving every few months, I was tired of working two full time jobs just to make ends meet.  I was tired of being so lonely.  I was tired of being so damn strong.  I wanted to be able to lean on someone, even if just for an instant.  I wanted Alex to be with me for the rest of my life, and I realized at that moment exactly what that entailed.

As soon as he found out I was at work, he had the troll drive him to the bowling alley.  When he saw me, he went from walking to full blown sprinting. I didn’t even see him enter the building, but my manager did, and she started giggling when she saw him run.  He tackled me, squeezing me so tight I coucouldn’teathe.  He touched my face, he felt to make sure I wasn’t hurt, he kissed me.  He was almost in tears.

To say the least, I found out he felt the same way.

I was only able to work a few hours of my shift.  When the adrenaline calmed down, I was so dizzy that I nearly passed out.  I was trying not to cry.  I was so incredibly exhausted that I didn’t know what was going to happen to me.  My coworker said she’d cover the rest of my shift and my manager said it was okay for me to leave.  I was going to walk to Alex’s dorm, which was about a quarter of a mile away, but my coworker called her husband and had him drive me the short distance.  He offered to walk me to the door, but I said no and walked myself.

When I got to Alex’s dorm, he just sat and held me as I started to cry.  I had no idea what was going to happen.  I couldn’t afford a new car.  I could barely afford my rent.  Alex wasn’t allowed to live off base so we couldn’t get an apartment together unless we got married.  I was afraid of what the coming months had in store for me.

The next day my body was so sore and stiff that I couldn’t even move.  It hurt just to sit up.  So I called into work and my manager had already given my shift away because she knew I’d be sore.  Alex didn’t have a car, and since he’s an asshat in situations like this, he made me walk all over base to get anything I’d need for the next few days.  That was the most painful day of my life.

A week later I was back to working both jobs, taking a taxi to work or having my friend pick me up to go to the base.  My mom gave me a loan of cash to buy a ’97 Buick LeSabre, which I drove for two years.  When I went back to work at Safeway, my manager told me that I was no longer dependable and that I needed to quit or she’d find a way to fire me.

But Alex came to the rescue…

 

Have you ever almost died?  Have you ever been in a situation where you were given an ultimatum?  Did your significant other ever save your life?  Let me know in the comments!

No Officer, But I Wish I Did Have A Weapon In The Vehicle

Back in my second year of college at UAF, I made some bad choices.  This is common knowledge.  I skipped class so I could sleep all day, I worked a full time job and skipped class, and I felt that I was invincible, as many twenty year olds feel when they’re away from home.

Anyway, for a very short time I casually dated this guy named Derik.  We didn’t have a lot in common— we both liked Miyazaki movies, he was well traveled, he was an overall interesting guy and he treated me well.  He seemed stable and honest, and I really liked him.

One night, after we had been seeing each other for a few weeks, he starts messaging me on face book.  He tells me he’s really drunk and he would be so happy if I got him some Taco Bell.

Since I’m sober and it’s Saturday night, I decided I would be the good friend and sober his dumb ass up.

How sweet of me, right?

I walk downstairs to his dorm room and he opens the door and falls forward, almost slamming into the ground, but he caught himself on the wall.  I could smell the liquor on him from three feet away.  He put his arm around me and announced we should get Taco Bell.

The taco bell that was closest to UAF was about three miles, so not too far.  As we were driving though, I got a lot of insight as to what kind of person Derik really was.

“You and I would never work as a couple,” he told me, something that hurt me deeply because I did like him a lot.

“Why is that?” I asked him.

“You’re too uptight.  You have no goals in life, and you’re just really awkward and weird.”

I feel my foot push on the gas a little more.  “Oh really, what are your goals in life?” I asked him.

Without even skipping a beat, he said something to me that made me want to punch him in the face.  “My goal in life is to fuck bitches and get high.”

My foot started to push  more on the gas. “Fuck bitches and get high?  How high are you right now?”

“I had two hits from a roach clip right before you picked me up.  But seriously though, you’re just too uptight and trying to take the fun out of fucking everything.  It’s so damn annoying.  Go smoke some pot and calm your ass down.”

The petal was to the metal at that point, we were going at least twenty over in this area.

“You listen here asshole,” I started to say, getting angrier as I spoke.  “I don’t want to be living on the streets with addiction and I don’t want to be living off of my parents for ever, so you can just shut your mouth.”

I’ve never been good with comebacks.  He started to gnaw at me more, saying more hurtful things… Until the cop car behind us turned on his lights.

I was so livid at Derik that I didn’t even care.  I pulled over, and Derik, who had been drinking and doing drugs that evening, paled as the cop came to the car.

Well hello...

Well hello…

“License and registration,” the cop asked.  I started to reach for my registration when the cop spoke again.  “Do you have any weapons in the car?”

“I fucking wish,” I said angrily, practically throwing the items at the cop.

This cop knew me.  I made his lunch every day.  He had a spark of recognition when he saw my license and my angry face.

He gave me a look, and I cleared my throat.  “Uh, no, I don’t sir.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked me.  I point to the asshole next to me.

“This asshole is really pissing me off.”

You should have heard the squeak that came from Derik.  His eyes were the size of plates, his face was ghastly white, and he was still.

“Is there going to be a chance of domestic violence?” the cop asked me.

“No sir, I’ll kick his ass before he can get his fists up,” I told the cop.  Derik looked at me, thinking I was serious.

The cop gave me back my license and registration.  “Just slow down, okay?  And calm down.”

The cop went back to his car and drove off.

Derik let out a sigh of relief.

“I take it back, you’re a fucking god.”

The next day, he couldn’t remember what happened so he messaged me asking me if I wanted to come over.  I told him what happened and that I had no desire to see him again.  He apologized profusely, saying he didn’t mean it and didn’t remember any of it.  He admitted that he was blacked out drunk, but those words cut me pretty deep.

To say the least, we weren’t really seeing each other anymore.  But I wish him well.

Have you ever met someone and found out some nasty stuff about them?  Ever had a crush on someone and they were nothing like you thought they were?  Ever tell a cop you wish you had a weapon?  Let me know in the comments!

When Going On A Date, Always Bring A Knife

I’ve been confined to my house in recent weeks so I’m running a little low on stories, but fear not, I have an unlimited supply of weird stories of when I was a young college student at the University Of Alaska Fairbanks.

Best. School. Ever.

Best. School. Ever.

Shortly after I dropped out, I joined a couple of dating sites.  I was rooming with an army guy and a girl who I knew from the dorms in a tiny little apartment in the hills just outside Fairbanks.  They were the Yak Estates, for anyone who knows Fairbanks.  My male roommate was a total jerk, but the female roommate was one of the best roommates I’ve ever had.  And I miss living with her quite a bit.

Anyway, the three of us would have a lot of good times drinking, throwing parties, watching movies, all that jazz.  I had a lot of good times in that apartment.

Shortly after I moved in there, my roommate suggested I join a dating site so I can get out and meet people, since I was really  never leaving the apartment after I got off my 8 hour shifts at the deli.  I shrugged, figuring why not, and joined a dating site.

While exploring the dating sites, there was one person that stood out to me, but not for the reasons you’d think.  I’m very big on gay rights, and I’m very supportive for people following their passions, no matter what it is.  Alaska isn’t conservative, so to speak, but they’re extremely libertarian and bordering on anarchist.  People mostly just want to be left alone to do their own thing, but the whole gay rights thing was a little behind the times because it just wasn’t something you’d typically talk about.  At all.

Not a popular topic up north

Not a popular topic up north

The person I found was a man who was working on becoming a woman.  When I met her, she was still a man and had just started looking into the surgery, would wear minimal make up, and was a martial arts instructor.  I messaged her, telling her that I was just blown away that she was announcing her plans to turn into a woman and I fully admired her decision.  I even asked if she wanted to get coffee because I was eager to talk to someone who was passionate about gay rights like I was.  She agreed, and we met at a coffee shop.

I was ordering coffee when she came in, and she was dressed like a lumber jack.  What I wasn’t expecting, was that she was two inches shorter than me and maybe 140 pounds.  But I figured since I’m an Amazonian in stature and Midwestern, I was going to have a hard time meeting anyone taller or bigger than me.  We got coffee and talked for a few hours.  She was really interesting, worked in a mental hospital, very well-rehearsed on Buddhist and Taoism, so we talked mostly about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  We exchanged numbers, I gave her a hug, and we parted ways.

A couple days later, she asked me to go out again.  I didn’t think anything of it, and she said she wanted to get to know me.  On our first encounter, I told her that I would never date her, but I would love to be friends.

We decided to drive around the outskirts of Fairbanks, because we both felt that car rides are the best way to get to know someone.  About an hour into the driving around, she turned to me and asked me why I didn’t want to date her.

“Well, no offense, but I’d break you in half,” I told her honestly.  I was more than double her weight.  She laughed.

“My ex fiancé was over 250 pounds, I’ve always preferred heavier women.”

I was a little confused.  “So, you like women?”

She nodded.  “Just because I want to be a woman doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to them.  I dated a few men and they’re fine for sex, but I could only ever love a woman.”

This made sense to me, and we continued to talk, me still thinking that I’d break this poor person in half.  We get to the top of a hill, about five miles from the nearest house, and she pulls the truck over and cuts the gas.

“Alright, there’s where I’m going to bury your body.”  She pointed to the ditch where a large field of wildflowers and rosehips grew.  I first thought of how pretty the flowers were, then the words sunk in a little bit.

We both laugh, then I turn around and see the shovel in the back of his truck.

OH SWEET JESUS I'M GOING TO DIE

OH SWEET JESUS I’M GOING TO DIE

All the blood leaves my face, and she didn’t break eye contact.

A few minutes pass, then she turns the truck on again.  “I’m just fucking with you.  I’ve always wanted to do that to someone.”

Relief washed over me and we went to Denny’s to talk more.  She was really nice, and after hanging out a few more times, I started to date someone else and I never heard from her again.

A few months after that incident, I started working on base and met Alex.  So I guess everything happens for a reason.

So that’s how someone half my size nearly murdered me in the Alaskan wilderness.

So, tell me, what are your thoughts? What weird, over the top dating experiences have you had? Anyone pull a prank on you while on a date early on? Let me know in the comments!

Save Me, Oh Zeus!: Tales of a Crazy Biatch Pt 2

I mentioned before that Marjorie was a little off, telling us about her imaginary son and her magical boob strings, but the things telling us she was a little off just kept keep piling up.

Example #4: It’s okay to drink red wine when you’re pregnant

So a week after Marjorie started working with us, she announced she was pregnant.  This was the day after she got married, and we were so happy to hear that she was going to have a little one.  She was going to the store and showing us all the cute baby things she had, telling us how excited her husband (who was in Korea on a deployment) was for the little one, and she went around telling everyone just how exhilarating it would be for her imaginary son to have a little brother or sister.

We didn’t know she was crazy yet, and I was convinced this chick could be my new best friend, so as a friendly gesture, I gave her a driving tour of Fairbanks.  I took her to all the nice places to shop, where to avoid, where you go for an extra special Asian massage, you know, all the fun stuff in the Banks.

Miss this place SO MUCH

Miss this place SO MUCH

After my two hour long driving tour of Fairbanks, we decided to go back to my place to watch a movie and chat.  She lived in the apartment complex I lived in, but in a different section.  She told me that she’s allowed to have a glass of red wine when pregnant, since it can actually be good for the baby.  I shrugged, figuring that since I was only 21 at the time, I probably didn’t know a lot about the pregnancy business since she was years older than me.

So we go to the liquor store to get some wine, and she picks out a white wine.  Well, a strawberry white zinfandel that’s pink in color.

SEVENTEEEEEEN!

SEVENTEEEEEEN!

“Marjorie, I thought you could only have red wine?” I asked her, concerned for the growing baby inside her.

“Oh, it’s red in color, so it’s okay,” she said, whipping out her credit card to pay for the wine.  For someone who was so excited to have a baby, she seemed so ready to bend the rules for her baby.  I guess that if it were me, I’d be terrified of drinking for fear of developmental issues, but she claimed that she did the same with her four year old and he turned out just fine.

So, I let my naivety get the best of me and we went back to my apartment.

Where she got hammered.

And while she was hammered she was telling me about how her parents raised her to have the religion of the Ancient Greeks.  She told me that Zeus was her God, as well as Hera, Artemis, Apollo, and so on.

Zeus will protect my baby

Zeus will protect my baby

The crazy just kept piling up.

She and I drank the entire bottle of wine, and she stumbled back home to her apartment once Alex got home.

A week later, she miscarried, stating that it was from all of the bacteria in the well water in North Pole, and she’s not used to untreated water.  (It’s funny, she should have been briefed on the arsenic in the water, but it was such trace amounts that it doesn’t affect you).

So she told us that she had to go to the ER when she miscarried, and they had to cut open her stomach in a C-Section manner to get the baby out.

Considering she was only two months along, this seemed really, really off.

Usually they do a procedure that just cleans out the uterus, or scrapes the insides, but they never cut open a woman who is only two months along to get the dead baby out.

But this was her story, and she even had bandages around her midsection to prove that this is what happened.

My lovely newfie friend begged her to show the actual wound, but Marjorie would always have an excuse, stating that she couldn’t remove her bandages, or that she didn’t want it exposed to open air, or that she was insulted that nobody believed her.

But fear not, it just continually got weirder and weirder…

Have you ever met anyone who was just craving attention in the weirdest possible ways?  Do you have any crazy stories like this?  Let me know in the comments!  Also, you should totally like this post.

 

I suppose I should also add a disclaimer: I have been told that small amounts of wine is recommended for pregnant women, but the irony in this story was that she got drunk on wine, stating it was okay.  It is NOT okay to get drunk on wine when you’re preggo, but I can understand a small glass of wine.

 

Also, Kudos to those who get the strawberry wine caption reference.

Two Years A Dog: The Desert And The Moon

My last post was extremely heart wrenching.  It actually caused me to cry while writing it.

So, in order to keep my sanity and to make myself realize that I didn’t completely give up on Patch, I shall tell you all a very heartwarming, and somewhat funny story.

I first must admit that this story is about three months premature, however, I figure it’s appropriate.  This is the story of how I found the third love of my life.

As you can imagine, Alex is the first love of my life.  He is my husband, my best friend, my soul mate, and my partner in crime.  He supports me, he is my rock, and if I were Morticia Addams, he is my Gomez.

While we were dating, about four years ago

While we were dating, about four years ago

The second love of my life, obviously, is Luna.  I wrote a post about her in February about how I had had her for two years and how she’s just the perfect dog in every way because, well, she just is.  But she is kind of defective since she doesn’t bark and she hates peanut butter.

Luna is not amused by your shenanigans.... ever

Luna is not amused by your shenanigans…. ever

Also, she’s kind of cat like.

The third love of my life, the one this post is about, is my condensed shepherd, Sahara.

Here’s the picture of her that was on Petfinder.com.

Painfully cute, right?

Painfully cute, right?

Let me tell you a bit about Sahara’s background.

Back in October of 2012, Luna had made it abundantly clear that she needed a friend.  She had a friend across our apartment complex named Bailey, who was a husky/terrier mix.  A cute little thing, she looked like a mini husky, but was a little stockier and a lot slower than Luna, which was great because they would play for hours and get very, very tired.

But when our friends went on vacation or a few weeks, Bailey went to a boarder and Luna had no playmate for three weeks.

When I used to walk Luna in Moose Creek, I would never have her on a leash because it was fairly uninhibited.  There were people, yes, but most of the houses were on an acre of land, and sometimes we would walk on the abandoned railroad bed back in the woods.  We saw a lot of moose, but they left us alone if we left them alone.

However, this particularly chilly October day of 5 degrees with a foot of fresh snow, Luna, with her crazy sled dog paws, decided to take off half way through our walk.

I was not dressed to be hiking through knee high snow.  I didn’t even have socks on.

When I got home, I was hoping that Luna was at the apartment.  Alex just got home, and I tell him Luna ran away.

He gets out of the car and we start walking around the complex, calling out for Luna.  She has this nasty habit of never coming when called.

After about forty five minutes, I decide, for the heck of it, to go to our friends apartment.  The apartment was divvied up into sections, and each section had its own entrance.  For instance, I was in the B section, and our entrance was only for those living in the B apartments.  Our friends lived in the J apartments.

I walk over to the J section, open the door, and see Luna laying in front of the door, ears back, eyes dilated and just looking overall pathetic.  I couldn’t even get mad— she missed her best friend Bailey.

I put her leash on and walked her back to our apartment.  Since we had rescued from the no kill shelter in North Pole and didn’t want to risk running into the woman who disliked military, we decided to head to the Animal Control in Fairbanks.

We had been discussing getting another dog.  Luna was my dog.  She still is.  Luna isn’t overly affectionate with Alex, but she is with me.  She would always lay at my feet, when I go to bed before or after Alex, she always crawls into the bed with me.  When she wants to play, she always puts the rope in my lap first— it’s just how it is.  She’s a little more like that with Alex now, but that first year with her, she pretty much wanted nothing to do with Alex unless he was going outside.

This bothered Alex, because he had a dog that didn’t really attach to him.

We argued about what kind of dog, and he wanted to get a pug.  He thinks they’re hilarious, I think they’re annoying in large doses.  I told him we should get another German Shepherd mix, like Luna, and he said maybe.  He wanted to get a toy breed though, since toy breeds are just that much easier to take care of, but I told him we’re either getting a real dog or no dog at all.

I thought this was fair.  I just like bigger dogs.

We agreed to see what kind of dogs were at the pound, but not to adopt any dogs that day.

However, he grabbed his check book anyway, you know, just in case he changed his mind.  We brought Luna with so Luna could be the final decider.  We wouldn’t want a dog that Luna hates, since it would be her new best friend.

We get to the pound in Fairbanks and they’re actually a little short on dogs, having only 20 dogs total at the pound.

For us, not a big deal.  We walk through and find a lot of retired sled dogs, all in the ten year old range who are just lazy and happy to not have to run twenty plus miles a day.  While the dogs were nice, we knew that Luna, who wasn’t even three years old at the time, would drive these retired dogs insane.  It’s like putting a teenager with a ninety year old in the same house together.

There was a one year old female pug that was howling at Alex, to which he pointed at me and said, “HOW CAN YOU NOT WANT ONE?!”

Ridiculous for a pug, right?

Ridiculous for a pug, right?

I couldn’t understand his want to have such a noisy dog.  The dog next to the pug, a 140 pound black german shepherd, was barking at us quite a bit too.  He had just survived four bullets to the head and was hardly scathed.

Now THAT is a tough dog.

Unfortunately, he was very noisy and more than double Luna’s size, and we only had an 800 square foot apartment.  While he was a nice dog, you can’t have a dog that’s ridiculously loud in an apartment.

When we are nearly done looking at the dogs, convinced we’re not going to get a dog, we see this really heavy set looking german shepherd mutt.

She only stands to about my knee, she’s 50 pounds, and when we take a closer look at her, we realize she’s severely underweight.  The reason she looks so chubby is because her chest is the size of a barrel.  Never, in my life, had I seen a dog with a chest cavity so large on a dog so small.

She didn’t bark at all, she just had a big goofy smile on her face, her tail slowly wagging.

She was a dog’s dog.

Alex fell in love immediately.  I thought she was cute, but I reminded him that Luna was the final determiner.

We ask the woman working in the back to take her out, and we take her into a room where we can meet her.  She practically bites off our hands eating the treats.  She’s sniffing everything, but she’s got a very cute waddle like walk.  We notice that her stomach skin is really loose with stitches.

“Oh, she just got fixed.  She also recently had puppies, which is why her skin is so loose.”

We got to learn her back story.

She was found off 40 mile Chena Hot Springs Road, by herself.  For those of you unfamiliar with Fairbanks, Alaska, this is an area where there’s no towns and very few houses from 10 mile Chena Hot Spring road all the way to Chena Hot Springs, which is at mile 56.  She was 16 miles from the closest  house.

Apparently when she was called in, Animal control whistled to her and she came running to them, happy for attention.  She had udders, but no puppies in sight.  Alex and I speculate that she ate them since she eats everything.

This, obviously, tugged at our heartstrings a bit.  She was very affectionate with Alex.

The final test was to bring in Luna.

Alex went to get Luna from the car and brought her into the pound.  Luna, obviously, was a nervous wreck since she spent the better part of six months in a pound.  The new dog began to hump Luna the second she came in the room, to which Luna didn’t move.

We saw this as a good sign since Luna didn’t try to rip her throat out.

The Animal Control woman told us that they named her Sahara, since she has so much dark orange fur with a black saddle.  I figured this was perfect since I already had my Moon, I figured that I would now have my Desert.

We picked up food for her at Cold Spot Feeds, got her some rawhides, and brought her home.

We took her on a long walk outside, lasting close to an hour, and once we brought her inside she pooped on the carpet.  And peed in the bedroom.

She did this for two weeks.

No matter how much we walked her, she refused to go potty outside.  We would walk for close to two hours sometimes to get her to go potty outside, but as soon as we got inside, she’d make eye contact and poop on the carpet.

When we took her to get her stitches out, it took four people to hold her down to get them out since she had a lot of fight in her.  We then learned about Alpha training and started doing that every day.

I don't think she minds...

I don’t think she minds…

After a couple of weeks, she became a very complacent dog, never barking, no longer humping Luna into submission, and stopped having accidents pretty much completely.

Alex got his wish too.  He got a dog that was his.  Sahara likes me, don’t get me wrong.  But she never lets Alex out of her sight, and she’s kicked me off the bed on several occasions to be closer to Daddy.

So happy to be held by Alex

So happy to be held by Alex

She also had this habit of destroying my house.

UGH!

UGH!

Unfortunately, she is a lot older than we realized.  She’s got quite a bit of gray around her muzzle now, and each passing year she gets lazier and lazier.  Usually she gets her exercise by watching Luna run around the yard.  Sometimes she’ll jump out to try to catch her, but usually, she’ll just lay down next to us, her tail slowly wagging, enjoying the scenery before her.

She’s a really good sport.  We can dress her up, give her a bath, hold her like a baby, and she is usually just happy to have the attention.

Sahara, the happy reindeer!

Sahara, the happy reindeer!

To Sahara, the third, but always equal, love of my life.  May you live many more happy years.

Sorry this was so long, but I hope that this was heart warming, considering my last post was long and heart wrenching.  Not all pound dogs are lost causes!

What’s your story about your dog?  How did you come to get your pet?  Do you dress up your dogs to ridiculous proportions?  Tell me in the comments!