A Love Story for the World's Best Dog
A Love Story for the World's Best Dog
Celebrate his life and 50 others with me!
My friend, Loree, believes that we don’t find animals, they find us. Snuka followed me into my life on a sunny spring day during college senior week. Students relieved of packed agendas littered the grassy quads, bathing in the sun and tossing the Frisbee. As I crossed through the chaos to the cafeteria, I spotted a wide-eyed smiling dog. Lured by his resemblance to a stuffed animal one might see in a department store Christmas window, I stopped a moment to pat his very furry head. Two minutes later with my cafeteria tray in hand, I caught a flash of fur at my feet while in line at the salad bar. I put down my tray and coaxed my shadow outdoors. I patted his head and thanked him for the laugh. Three hours later and through two sets of steel doors, he found me again on the other side of campus. I was returning a set of dumbbells to the weight rack when I caught a glimpse of his generous grin reflected in the mirror.
A weight lifter-friend offered to care for the pup if I would look for his home. I failed, not in effort but in results. A few hours after graduation, my new home in town became “our” home in town. We took our first walk with an extension cord loosely tied around his neck. The second walk we upped our distance from one block to two since walking made him happy. By the end of the month, we’d established a two-mile route that meandered along an aspen shaded river. I bought a new red leash and matching collar and ordered a Milkbone tag. The name “Snuka” and my phone number were etched in the silver plating. Not because I was into pro wrestling like his namesake but because “Snuka” evoked an image of a smiling elderly Eskimo wearing a fur-trimmed hood. It was a moniker befitting a double-coated dog with a lion-like mane.
Snuka became the model to which all my future dogs were compared. He wasn’t just committed to the act of obedience. He genuinely loved people and the reward of praise. He traveled everywhere I traveled. I imagined him in a former life, red bandana tied to a stick. If he couldn’t go where I went, there was always a line of people vying for his infectious smile.
When Joe and I married, we carved space for Snuka in our packed Volkswagen Rabbit as we headed north for our honeymoon in the woods. Neither of us wanted to hike a trail and wish he’d been beside us. When we lived along the shores of Lake Michigan, we made new friends because of Snuka’s ability to connect with others and with animals in need. We rescued a swarm of ducklings that had fallen through a sewer grate, a merganser tangled in a six-pronged lure, a beagle with one eye that had wandered too far from a new home, and numerous dogs that had fallen into the frigid water on the other side of the temporary ice floes that formed along the wintery lake.
Many moons have passed since our last night together under the silence of a blanket of stars. But his sunshine is always near – in Shiloh’s smile, in Rascal’s playfulness, in Margo’s affection, even in the high-tailed prance of little Ashley.
Snuka is top of mind as I celebrate the 50 dogs and cats who’ve found temporary refuge in our home. Those 50 animals got a second chance at a new life because of all the gifts taught to me by the world’s greatest dog.
“Because of the dog’s joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift.” - Mary Oliver
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Snuka was an amazing loveable dog and I remember him fondly. Sounds like he chose you and your life became the richer sharing with all the others who come after. He was fun on walks and the model dog when others were around (like mine lol). Thanks for sharing.
Fantastic post! This is true dog luvluvluv. Thank you for sharing Snuka’s story with us.:)