Little Warrior Girl

Photo copyright Aji, 2020; all rights reserved.

That photo was taken six years ago almost to the day — if I remember correctly, on April 9th of 2014. That was her last enormous rawhide treat. Because it was six years ago this day that our little warrior girl left us.

This was Lilith, the demon-goddess (and yes, if I had it to do over again, I'd no doubt choose another name, but it suited her perfectly, having been abused and confined and beaten until she grew into powers she never wanted, but wound up needing for survival). The way she came to me was seemingly accidental, but I think she never would've survived had my dog not herded her terrified self into submission for me to catch.

She never left.

She was . . . much more than a handful. Whomever she escaped from had designs on her as a fighting dog, and it was not her natural inclination, but she learned all the worst lessons just to save herself, and she transferred those loyalties to us. It took her months to warm up to Wings; she didn't like men, she didn't like kids, she didn't like uniforms or wheels or braids or locs, and she reacted entirely from memory, her whole early life one massive formative period of trauma, and everything thereafter filled with post-traumatic stress. My other dog had to teach her to play, that running was something you could do for fun.

But she was fiercely loyal, and once she loved, she loved you forever. You were part of her pack, and she would defend you with everything she had. She was also, once comfortable with you, the sweetest little girl, and she doled out kisses as sparingly as the rarest of jewels; if you got one, you were honored and grateful, because she just didn't do it. Yes, she had quite the racket going, and she worked it for all it was worth, but she also meant all of it, too. Once she finally bonded herself to Wings, she took full advantage. In return, he called her Kachina, and it fit.

As with several of our other dogs, she developed cancer, part of a cluster of illnesses that resulted, apparently, from an off-brand topical treatment for fleas. We've stopped using them entirely as a result, and we've never seen a flea on any of our dogs, before or since. She became ill in June of 2011, and we thought we would lose her several times between then and this day in 2014, but she always rallied, never willing to leave us just yet. By the time we took that photo, we knew it wouldn't be long; she was slowing, easily tired, content just to lie at my feet and chew on her rawhide. When she finally left us, at 4:16 PM on April 10, 2014, it was the gentlest leaving I've ever seen: She fell asleep a couple of hours prior, her breathing slowly deepened over time, then her breaths grew further apart, until finally, she gave one small sigh, and began her journey to the spirit world. For a little girl whose early time in this world was so fraught and terrifying and filled with pain, I was happy to see that her leaving it was easy and without either pain or fear.

I did today as I always do, for all of them: At the appointed time, I took water and cedar and tobacco to her resting place. Wings usually does something similar, or comes with me to do it. Most people don't do this with their animals, but there's a reason he nicknamed her Kachina: These are the purest of spirits, and the give us everything, unasked. We also tend to take in those who spent their lives prior to reaching us being abused, neglected, abandoned, starved, and so the least we can do is honor their little spirits for all the loyalty and love they gave us in a world that had otherwise treated them so badly. That's especially the case with this little girl, who had every reason to hate humanity, and still found it in her big heart to love us.

We love you, Lilith.  You're never out of our hearts, either.

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2020; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.