Farewell to the Love of my Life

Today I’m losing my best friend.

Sadie Elora Murphy was born in 2004 on a horse ranch in Bonney Lake to a white wolf, with two siblings in her litter—a brother and a sister. The youngest of the three, Sadie was born with both wolf and husky in her blood, and a little bit of something from her father which might be either lab or cur, but it was strong enough to give her a gorgeous gold and white coat with dark gray roots.

At five weeks old her mother pushed her out of the litter in favor of her brother and sister, and this is where my mother stepped in, picking up that five week old pup with the golden fur, one brown eye one blue, and decided to do something she’d wanted to do all her life—give her daughter a dog.

On my thirtieth birthday Sadie was placed in my arms with a little bow around her neck and I fell in love immediately. She had the golden coloring of a lab, the gray and white tail of a husky, but her personality was all wolf. A pack dog to the core, I became her mama and her alpha. I taught her Elvish and silent commands, and let her curl up every night in the bed so we could sleep together. During the day as I saved the world with lines of code, I’d lay a blanket over my chair to create a small fort and she’d curl up underneath—her own special place.

Single mother to a daughter of my own, the three of us moved to a country house on the river, renting out the top level. It was there that Sadie got her first taste of true freedom, able to race from one side of the three-acre yard to the other, roll on every interesting smell until her fur stank, and in the summer gently pick blackberries off the bushes one at a time. She even once escaped to the strawberry fields behind us and ended up near the train tracks, scaring the absolute piss out of me when I heard the train whistle.

When my now-husband and I got together, the four of us moved to an 86-acre plot of land on Camano Island, nesting ourselves in the small hunting cabin atop the hill. In the summer Sadie would curl up in the sun on the garden soil, and every night we’d walk by the fishing ponds, under the pine and rhododendron to the old tree stump graveyard. It was there she first met her companion, Dakota, a nine-year-old rescue dog who taught her about pack structure and became her best friend. On those walks we saw bald eagels, weasels, fish, otters, and every night we’d hear the coyotes come yipping through the ravine. We even had both cougar and bear prints on the property once, but thankfully they didn’t stick around.

In 2011 we left Camano Island and moved to Texas to be closer to my husband’s family. Sadie and Dakota rode with my daughter and I across the country and did splendidly, and at the time I was pregnant with my second daughter. They spent two years chasing birds, snakes and spiders on a Texas horse ranch (sadly without horses) before we returned to Washington in 2013, but not without the newest member of our family—a two-year-old border collie named Harley.

In 2014 Dakota went into renal failure, and I was once again pregnant, this time with my son. This time we were living in the city with a tiny yard, but Sadie still loved to lay in the sun atop the garden bed soil, and to play tug-of-war with any toy she could get her jaws around. She’d grab a toy and press it against my hand until I tried to tug it away, then brace all four paws and pull backwards, still with that stubborn wolf strength that pulled me off the ground every time.

In 2018 we relocated to our present house with a much bigger yard and lots of beautiful trees. In the back there’s a giant leveled garden bed, and from the first day Sadie dug her holes in the dirt and slept in the sun. Fourteen years of age and she still acted like a pup most days, but by the end of summer she was slowing down a little bit.

This year has been a struggle, but most days she was still playful and would play fetch with Harley or prowl the trails under the trees. This fall she got even slower, and over the past month she’s had more slow days than bright ones.

It was this weekend she took a turn and her eyes changed. She still has pert moments, but she sleeps all the time now and doesn’t want to go outside to pee. More than that, she’s telling me it’s time for her to move on. Sadie will be sixteen in March and the truth is I can’t let go. I want her to be young again so we can walk the trails, play tug-of-war and nap in the sun. She has been the shadow at my side for so many years that I can’t bear to move on without her.

So today I’m writing my farewell as I pluck around the house and prepare for our paths to divide. We have a blanket with red birds on it that Sadie loves to sleep on and the rest of us are allergic to, so she will take her final rest on her blankie. I have a small gift tag I designed recently in my hands, and I will place it with her as a culmination of all my freelance years with her by my side. She was there when I first left office life, and this is my way of telling her she takes a piece of my soul with her when she’s gone. And she’ll have her last stuffie, a little dollar store lamb that she never fully gutted. She stopped playing weeks ago. And finally a chew bone to take with her, something she loved gnawing on every chance she got.

When it’s over, I won’t be the same person. A hole will occupy my heart and I’ll take my comfort from Harley, the last of our dogs who has become like my daemon. He follows me to every room, knows what I’m going to do each time I stand up, and loves to play fetch until he’s panting so hard he can barely breathe.

Sadie was named after one of my RPG characters. As soon as I asked her about the name, she stood up and wagged her tail. She was five weeks old, and in that moment the name and I became hers. One day I will write her into a story as a way to honor the companion who nuzzled every tear I shed and who made me complete in every way.

But for today, she will not see my final tears.

She will not be here to greet me when I come home.

And she will not be snoring on my legs tonight.

My soul will be empty, but my family will be my comfort. They will hold me while I grieve and step onto the next path alone. But one day, after my own death or maybe in the next life, I will find my Sadie again and we will walk the woods together.