Isis, my husky, joined the pack in 2004. She was a year old and her soul was filled with a wildness and a love of destruction. I channeled that wildness into running and that (mostly) took care of her love of destruction as well. We ran together for years, until she could no longer run. Then we walked on our adventures—a stately saunter rather than a mad dash. One day in March, 2016 she collapsed and I thought that was the end. But steroids granted her a reprieve and our adventures continued. But, time ends all things.
As the months went by, she hit a plateau of recovery and then began a decline. She could not walk as far, she had to be supported while doing her business and she was sometimes confused about where she was. This worsened as November progressed—she required ever more support, walked ever less distance, and had trouble distinguishing between the outside and inside of the house. Since she was my dog and I was her human, I accepted all this. I stocked up on carpet cleaner and ran the steam cleaner regularly. Since she could not handle the smooth floors, I put down yoga mats for her—I had tried carpet runners, but they drink up the urine. Yoga mats can be hosed off, dried and put back in place.
Though she suffered a physical and mental decline, her will remained unimpaired. When she decided that she wanted to walk someplace, she would struggle with her weakened legs and force her way through vegetation and up hills. If she could not make it up a hill on her own, she would turn her head to look at me and would not move again until I supported her and allowed her to power up that hill. She had the spirit of a true runner; never giving up in the face of a challenge. In the face of time, however, will and love are not enough.