Mali at 12

Last month, our nearly 12-year-old dog Mali was diagnosed with Cushing's Disease. We learned that it is a fairly common condition in small older dogs and is caused by a tumor growing in the brain. This was incredibly scary news, but we also learned that with proper treatment, Mali can live about three more years. Realizing that Mali is going to die all too soon is really my first experience with death as an adult. I have heard it said that mortality gives us perspective in life; we appreciate every moment because we know it won't last forever.

It was just an average day in November 2000, and my brother Greg and I were in the mini van with our dad when we stopped at Bill's Lock and Key to get a key made. I was eight and Greg had just turned six. We walked in with our dad and as he approached the counter, a 10-month-old puppy came running out to greet us. Greg and I immediately sat down on the floor and began to play with her.

My dad got the key made and then shifted his attention to the dog. We were told she belonged to the key shop owner's daughter, Colleen, who was working that day. Colleen saw how happy Greg and I were with the dog, and before he knew it, my dad was being asked if we would like to be the dog's new owners. Colleen told us that she was moving into a new living space and would not be able to keep the dog. For the two or so years prior, our family had not had a dog. A day later, after getting Mom's approval, we went back to the key shop and took Mali home.

After learning more about Mali's history, we realized she was meant to be our dog. At the time, my grandparents had a springer spaniel named Molly. Not only did our new dog have the same name, but she was a beagle/springer mix. We also learned that her estimated birthday was either my birthday or the day after.

Mali's life started out rough. She was found in the middle of a road at just a few weeks old. The person who found Mali was not able to keep her, so she gave Mali to Colleen. Despite her rough start, Mali was an energetic, cuddly little girl.

On Mali's first night at our house, my parents were going out on a date, so Greg and I had a babysitter. I don't remember why, but for some reason the babysitter and I both thought Mali was going to throw up. The babysitter suggested we put Mali outside so there would be no clean up, but I insisted on keeping her inside with us and promised I would clean up if she threw up. Well, Mali did throw up, and I refused to clean it! Mali slept in a basket bed on her first night, but on her second night, she got out of the bed and came to see us. Thus, she began sleeping in a crate with the door closed for several years, until it was determined that she would be allowed to sleep in my room with me.

When Mali was young, she had a dog toy soccer ball, and I was an avid soccer player. I used to dribble the toy ball around the yard and Mali would chase me and nip at the ball, trying to steal it. I would let her have it sometimes, and she would put it in her mouth and run around the yard while I chased her. I even took a photo of Mali with the soccer ball as if it was her team picture. She also had a toy that I believe came from my grandma called a "Wiggly Giggly". It was a ball that rolled around and made a bunch of noise. Mali and I loved to play with it.

At Mali's dinnertime, I used to take her bowl of food out into the backyard and throw it to her, one piece at a time. Back then Mali had great vision and caught most of the pieces in the air. She found the ones she missed on the ground and left prints of saliva on the deck from picking them up.

When Mali was just a couple years old, I was visiting my grandparents in Kansas City when my mom told me that Mali was having surgery to remove her four top front teeth. They had become rotten. This barely affected her at first except that, while relaxing, her tongue would stick out of the front of her mouth because there were no teeth to hold it back.

One summer Greg and I built a clubhouse in the backyard, and we wanted more than anything for Mali to be part of it. She had other plans. We tried to coax her to sit with us and hang out, but she was much more interested in running around the rest of the yard. Greg and I also learned how to climb the tree around this time, and we begged our mom to let Mali come up into the tree with us. Needless to say, this request was denied.

When Mali was two, she joined us on a family road trip to visit our grandparents in Kansas City. We stayed there two weeks, and among other things, Mali was there for the wedding I planned at age ten for two of my teddy bears.

When Mali was about four, my friend Katie and her mom introduced me to the dog park, and we started taking Mali. My dad would take Greg and Mali and me, and we would throw the football around while Mali socialized. When I was fifteen and had just gotten my provisional license, the first place I drove was with Mali to the dog park.

In 2006, a big change happened for Mali; she was no longer the only dog in the house. We had been talking about getting a second dog for awhile, both to keep Mali company and because Greg and I fought over who got to play with Mali. We welcomed Scout into our home, a young adoptee from Animal Humane. When I first saw Scout and Mali together in the backyard, I cried because I thought this was so terrible for Mali. Although Scout and Mali have their moments, I think she has come to love him. Additionally, his youth has kept her active.

All through high school, Mali was my nap buddy. I was an exhausted teenager who often came home after school and took Mali with me to "nap time". Mali had no problem passing out with me for a couple hours, and I enjoyed her company.

In August 2010, I started college three hours from home, and probably the hardest part was leaving my dogs behind. With my human family, I could communicate via phone and internet, and they knew where I was and what I was doing. I had no way of telling my dogs where I was or when I would be back. In February of my freshman year, my mom and Mali drove down to visit me. Mali was still healthy at this point, except for her eyesight which has been declining since she was only about five. We loved having her, but I don't think she had much fun, as it is hard for a sight-impaired dog to travel somewhere she has never been. Still, I am happy that she has seen where I go to school.

This past summer, Mali stopped jumping onto my bed. This, along with other seemingly unrelated symptoms, was what led the vet to the Cushing's diagnosis. Thanks to her treatments, I am thrilled that she can now jump onto my bed, hesitantly but with strong legs.

Mali is absolutely my childhood dog. I took her to show-and-tell in fourth grade, and next month, I will turn 20 and she will turn 12. She was the first dog I was allowed to take for walks all by myself, the first dog to get to sleep in my room at night, and the first dog to ride in the car with me while I drove. There is no telling what the next few years will bring for her, but I know that she has lived a long, happy life, and has meant more to me than I could express.