Ferdinand's Story

There is a huge empty whole in my heart now that only time will heal, and never completely.

By all rights he shouldn’t have lived that long. His lineage was unknown. In my ignorance 14 years ago, I went out and bought the cute puppy at the pet store. Who could resist that face? He was nestled in a bed of sweet-smelling woodchips and was the cutest thing I had ever seen.

Only after meeting my online Chow friends and gaining knowledge did I learn that most, if not all, pet store puppies come from puppy mills. I did not even know what a puppy mill was at the time. I didn’t know anything about Chows that day, either, except that this one was really, really cute, and gazing up at me, with his trademark Nanda Bear smile and the woodchip on his nose from his bedding. I lost my heart to him that very day.

I brought the 12 week old puppy home to meet my other dog, 7 year old Rufus, a Newfoundland mix. Ferdinand was delighted with his new friend - Roo less so. Little Ferdinand harassed him relentlessly, and I could look out of our back window and see Roo trotting around the yard with a little furball either fastened to the hair on his ruff around his neck, or hanging from his tail. Nanda worshiped Roo, and slept right by his side. Sadly, about 7 months after Nanda came to live with us, Roo developed bone cancer and was gone in three months. Nanda was there for comfort.

When I was pregnant with my son, my husband and I went to an open house at our local Humane Society and adopted Oprah, an abused, confused, medically neglected female Chow. Nanda welcomed her, but she hated him on sight. Unfortunately, she never did care for other animals, but loved her people.

When Nanda was three, my son Randall was born. When we came home from the hospital, Nanda was more than extremely interested in this newcomer. He jumped up on our couch - something he never did - to meet Randall face-to-face. Although Nanda was a very good, gentle dog, he was big, weighing in at 75 pounds at the time. I was a little apprehensive at his joy in checking out this new being, but I needn’t have worried. All he did was sniff Randall and welcome him to our family. Randall adored the giant teddy bear and cooed and smiled at him as he grew older. During those early months of no sleep, quitting a job I’d had for seven years and learning to be a mom, Nanda was there for comfort and provided stability for a life that had become quite hectic.

When Randall was two, we also added a blind, ten-year old Chow, Cierra to the mix. Life was good.

Ferdinand was always up for any adventure. He loved riding in the car and especially enjoyed camping. On one particular camping trip, he smelled something and spent three days digging a huge hole. He was absolutely convinced there was something furry down there, and he was going to get it. He never did, but the hole was so huge we had to fill it in when we left.

My husband and I got divorced in 2001. I had three dogs, a part-time job and a mortgage I couldn’t afford. To say I was worried about taking care of all of us is an understatement. I remember sitting down with each one of my dogs and swearing we would make it through this. I remember crying many tears in their fur, most especially Nanda’s. He was my best friend, my rock, the one who had always been there.