Some would say it extreme to call your dog your “other half,” but I still claim it true. In 2016 I was a kennel attendant at St. Hubert’s Animal Welfare in Madison, NJ. I had been volunteering and working there for less than a year, coming across many lovable dogs. On May 4, 2016 we had gotten a transport of dogs. However, I was the only kennel attendant made readily aware of the dogs placed in our puppy isolation kennel. We only had four runs in this particular section. Excitedly, I went in to see our new groups of dogs. In the second run, there she was my “Isla.” A five month old, brown and white, female hound mix. I stepped into the run and she immediately bound for me. I sat on her bed, and she sat on me, licking my face. That was it, I knew she was mine. I didn’t tell anyone about the additional transport until I could put an “adoption pending,” sign on her run. I ran home and argued with my parents about getting another dog for a week, before I finally just walked her through the front door. Later that day my mom was reviewing her healthcare file and said, “guess it was meant to be.” I responded, “what?” My mother said, “did you see her birth date? It’s December 4th.” Which is my birthday. So for the past nine years I was honored to celebrate my birthday with my other half and I really felt we were two parts of the same soul. I felt we both understood each other in a way that no one else really did.
Isla or “Izzy,” had a dog brother she loved “Finny.” After his death, she no longer tolerated the company of another dog, loyal through and through. She became a big girl, a mutt of many large breed dogs, she was a 100 pound lap dog. She would sit on us in lawn chairs in the backyard, and constantly had to be close to us in any capacity. She was a goofy, sweet noodle; who has been my constant through my father’s cancer, my diagnosis with an autoimmune disease, heartbreak, and loss. She always kissed my tears away, and made me happy. There were times where we had more wild adventures, but I remember the routines most fondly, the days of excessive snuggling, her carrying a stuffy around like a baby, routine walks around the neighborhood, and sharing meals with her amongst our family.
In the end, as always she gave me sweet kisses acknowledging my tears in the week leading up to her death. Dr. Sandra met my family with compassion, came into our home and gave Izzy comfort and grace in her final moments, she allowed us to give her LOADS of reese’s cups – which Izzy loved. I am so thankful to Dr. Sandra for the dignity she gave Izzy in the end. Izzy loved us and we will love her eternally. She will always be my other half and I am so blessed to have had the honor of walking (snuggling) alongside her in this life. Thank you, forever, My Izzy.