However, on that day I remember calling Curtiss Clark to tell him my Norwegian elkhound bitch was going to whelp our first litter of puppies and I was not coming to work. Luckily for me I also missed out on doing my weekly task of asking the Bee Lines questions in front of the smoke shop.

After the blessed event – like all good reporters who have an exciting story to share – I wrote an article, “Bringing Life To Newborn Pups.” It appeared in both The Bee and its then sister publication The Weekly Star in April. My cub reporter repertoire of words was evident, as was my status as a novice breeder.

The story focused on the birth of Roxanne. She was the only female in a litter of three. The difficult birth was detailed in the article. When she was born she was not breathing. I shook the pup to dislodge fluid from its lungs. When I blew into her little nose, she squirmed, squealed and literally came to life in the palm of my hand.

Now nearly 15 years later I am faced with the decision to take away the very breath I gave her. Roxanne has been diagnosed with Lymphosarcoma, a common form of canine cancer. She has somewhere between three weeks and three months of quality life left. It is during this time that I must decide when the pain becomes too much for her to bear or too much for me to watch.

This situation is all too often played out among pet owners and their ailing animals. Whether it is simply old age or a terminal illness making the decision to let go is never an easy one. I have seen owners prolong the life of their pets to fulfill their own emotional needs. They are either unable to say goodbye or can’t make the decision to end a devoted pet’s life. They can’t bear the thought of not having that furry body around to pet or those big eyes to look loving back with that unconditional love that animals give to us. I have seen animals suffer beyond their time, because medicine and/or selfish owners could make it happen.

Remember all the good times your pet gave you and celebrate that life with a fitting ending.

I have much to celebrate about Roxanne, or rather CH. Elvemel’s A New Lief. She is my first homebred champion and the foundation brood bitch of my show kennel, Elvemel Norwegian Elkhounds. After a short show career to her championship, including a win at the Westminster Kennel Club at Madison Square Garden, she found her calling in the whelping box.  Roxanne produced 33 puppies in five litters, including seven champions. She was a top producer in her breed in 1991. Her last dog show was in May at our National Specialty where she was awarded a participant ribbon in the veteran sweepstakes.  She has earned her place in “elkhounddom” or at least firmly in my heart for giving me my start in the “sport of purebred dogs.”

Dog show stuff aside, Roxanne has given me some lighter moments. There was the time she got loose and finally came home after a visit to the nearby dairy farm covered with green “cow pies.” This escapade was only to be topped by the five times in her life she pursued and was sprayed by a skunk. Numerous times when I left my jacket on a chair after a dog show, Roxanne would always find the liver in the pocket, by eating her way through the pocket.

Once she was mad at me for leaving her alone while I was on a date, when I returned she ate my leather purse including all the contents. She smeared the lipstick all over the white sofa.

As a puppy I would bring her to The Bee to play with Bart, Sherri Baggett’s Golden Retriever puppy. They were only weeks apart in age.

Old habits die hard. Just a few weeks ago I brought Roxanne’s great grandson OB to The Bee to play with Sherri’s new golden retriever puppy Star. They are only a few weeks apart in age.

Besides being the consummate beggar at the dinner table, Roxanne’s ability to “talk” to me in a low moan is one of my favorite memories. Taking her on a brisk walk or just watching her enjoy a good bone at my feet will cap off the list. In her twilight days, I have devised our own routine to make it easy on us both.

Each morning we wake up and spend some quiet time together. I take a mental note and compare her to the day before. I watch for signs that will tell me its time. I have already made all the arrangements with my veterinarian for euthanasia. I have planned her burial and will stick to my plans. When the time comes they will automatically happen and cause less stress.

Now is the time to pamper myself. I’m planning a massage and then a walk in the woods with Roxanne. I’ve been giving her a little extra food and treats. I took some lovely photos of her in the fall foliage. I even took her to Cape Cod last week for her last car ride. Today I will spend some time brushing her. She never did like baths, so we won’t have any more of those, unless she goes for round six with the skunk. 

When the moment comes I will take a deep breath and allow hers to be taken. I know Roxanne will find her way to Valhalla were all good elkhounds go, as the dog of the Vikings. There her breath will be forever crisp and full of life.

Adria L. Henderson and Lisa N. Peterson are owners/operators of Safe At Home, LLC, a Newtown-based pet sitting service. We love to hear from our readers. We can be reached at 203-426-5784 or 426-4682; write to us at P.O. Box 427, Botsford, CT 06404; or e-mail us at animallifestyles@usa.net