Magnum
January 1, 1994? - August 13, 2003
Some dogs leave deep paw prints on our hearts . . .
Magnum came into our lives the Christmas season of 2001. We already owned and loved four Siberian Husky girls and they were a handful. But when a call went out on the Sibernet e-mail list to transport a post-op Siberian Husky to the home where he would stay over the holidays I volunteered. I figured it was a small bit of help I could offer. However, Magnum ended up staying with us. I think I fell in love with him a bit the first time I saw him in the vet's parking lot. Half his body was shaved and drainage tubes were springing jauntily from his sides as he pranced about -- yes, pranced -- the parking area. Even in the frigid December air he seemed unfazed and ready to take on the world.
The poor little guy had been abandoned by his people, left to die without shelter or food in Portland's cold December rains. It happened that we had particularly heavy rains that year before Christmas. When found he had an enormous tumor on his shoulder. The doctor at the veterinary clinic where he was brought decided to perform surgery to remove the tumor although the dog's prognosis was not good. A week without food or water and exposure to bad weather had left him depressed and very sick. But he pulled through and the people at the clinic came up with his new name: "Magnum." Magnum responded to the care of the staff at the clinic and was full of good spirits when I picked him up. It turned out that the very nice young woman who had volunteered to take him in had her hands full for the holidays. Neither she nor I had dreamed that this dog would need so much care. So I asked if I could take him home with me. There was just my husband and me this holiday. She agreed and I drove Magnum to our house.
We had tile in our foyer off the kitchen and living room and it made a perfect place for an X-pen next to the woodstove. My husband was dubious at first but it wasn't long before Magnum had wrapped him around his paw. We didn't know it yet but Magnum had come to stay for the rest of his life.
Magnum battled the tumors that ravaged his body with such spirit and grace. He was so patient with us when we had to bandage him twice a day. His previous owners hadn't taught him doggy manners so we had to teach him not to snap or bite. He learned quickly and soon developed his own game where he would take our hands -- gently -- in pretend "attacks." How he loved that game! He was kind of clumsy at it as he had never learned to play properly but he went at it with such zest, grinning like a fool. Because of his operations he was a house dog and that was where he wanted to be. When we took him outside he could hardly wait to get back inside. When we let the girl's in at the end of the day, Magnum would stand and "woof" fiercely at them in his deep male voice. He was such a big gentle goof -- they just ignored him even as they accepted his presence without a quibble.
There were so many things we wanted for Magnum: a few years of good health, hikes in the woods where he could sample many new and delicious smells, more summers where he could sun himself on the back deck.....but...but...Magnum was hearing the call from North of the Bridge. The time finally came when we could no longer hold him here.
On August 13, 2003 I sent the following message to all my friends who had followed Magnum's story:
"Magnum was such an important part of our lives for almost two years. He fought through surgeries for his cancer with such good spirits, his blue eyes always sparkling, always ready to give kisses and nuzzles. When my father died two weeks ago, he came to me and tried to comfort me. His was such a loving spirit. He was such an exceptional boy, and our hearts are truly broken."
Magnum's ashes are in a large wooden "memory box." In the drawer of the box are his collar, tags and leash. With his ashes are cards from his friends and, most special, his medallion and scarf that were awarded posthumously to him at the 2nd Annual Rescue Parade at the Siberian Husky National Specialty in Portland, Oregon, the first Saturday in October of 2003. Two dear friends entered him as a surprise for me and my husband. I had looked forward to Magnum making his circuit of the ring at the show but that dream died when he died. To have him honored as "...one who left too soon for the Rainbow Bridge" touched me beyond words. That evening at the banquet when I showed my husband the medallion with Magnum's name engraved on it tears sprang to his eyes.
We still miss him terribly. There have been times when I have thought I heard his nails clicking on the tiles, coming down the hall to greet me as I came up the stairs from the garage as he did every day for nearly two years. How I miss his soft nuzzles and enthusiastic kisses! But I know he is at the Bridge, young again and free of pain, running with Mishka and Sashka, our first two Siberians, and all the other wonderful Siberians who have made the journey to the Bridge. His silver harness flashes with all the others' harnesses on frosty nights when the glory of the aurora borealis stretches across the sky. Godspeed, Magnum. We will never forget you.
