A Little Thing Called Sisterhood

Nineteen-ninety-six was a big year for my husband and me. We finished school, got our first real jobs, bought our own house, and yes, decided that we needed to buy a dog. In fact, I had told my husband that as soon as we returned from our two week post graduation vacation, we were getting a puppy. I even wrote on the calendar in our kitchen “July 14, buy our new friend.”

My husband tried as hard as he could to put off the puppy purchase date. After all, we would both be working full time and our house wasn’t that large. Who would take care of the puppy when we were gone all day? And, where would the puppy run around?

Yet, I completely ignored my husband’s practical perspective in exchange for my emotional one. And, on July 14, 1996 I forced him into the car with me in search of our brand new family member.

As soon as I saw Snickers, I was instantly in love. A tan and white Sheltie, just twelve weeks old, she was frisky and energetic. I knew as I’d never known anything before that she was destined to be mine. My husband was hard pressed to disagree, as the tiny ball of fur licked him furiously, with a look in her eyes that practically begged him to take her home.

As certain as I had been that we had found our dog, I began to have doubts on the half hour ride home. The entire way, as I held my new baby lovingly in my arms, she shook and shuddered and looked simply terrified. My husband reassured me that her fear would subside quickly, once she got used to us and her new surroundings. Yet, for the next twenty four hours, Snickers shook and moped and whined and cried. Something was terribly wrong and we felt completely helpless. Despite treats and toys and lots of petting, Snickers was unmistakably miserable.

Then, without warning an ingenious thought sprung into my head.

“Maybe she misses her sister!” I announced loudly.

“Are you suggesting……” my husband began, hesitantly.

“I’m simply saying that I think I know how to make Snickers happy.” I informed my husband flatly. “Now, get in the car.” And I picked up the sad mass of fur that had been drooping around all day.

Less than an hour later, we were back at Snickers’ original home. I set my lonely puppy on the ground, and within seconds she was romping and barking and even chasing her tail. In an instant, my woebegone pup was vivacious and animated! Just minutes later, the breeder came out with the other female from the litter. The two animals ran towards each other like a scene straight out of a movie. Once they began frantically chasing and licking one another, my husband and I looked at each other knowingly.

That evening, we relaxed at home, curled up with our two happy Sheltie puppies.

Snickers and Skittles were completely inseparable from the get go. They ate together, played together, and even got into trouble together. When one of them sucked down a pair of knee high stockings, leaving us wondering which dog had actually committed the unthinkable act, they were even forced to vomit together! The point was, though, that they were twin sisters with an invisible bond so strong that attempting to break it would also, as we’d seen in the beginning, break their spirit.

When our canine children were three years old, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl that we named Hannah. I’m pretty certain that the dogs thought of her as their human sister, because they simply refused to leave her side. They licked her tiny toes as she sat in her bouncy seat and watched her closely as I’d feed her. They even slept beneath her crib at times. Clearly, my dogs knew who was in their pack and were aware of their enormous family responsibilities.

Pregnancy with Hannah had been difficult for me. I was nauseous and tired and even had to go on bed rest for almost a month. Thus, the thought of having another baby made me nervous. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to go through all of that once more.

One night, as I was telling my husband my reservations about getting pregnant again, he looked at me sternly and said, “So you want Hannah to be lonely like Snickers was?”

I had never thought of our situation in that way. However, my husband was right. Snickers had been down trodden and downright miserable being alone. But, having a sister to share her experiences and play with her all day long had brought her happiness and contentment. How could I possibly allow my daughter to be sad and alone for the rest of her life? She did, indeed, need a sibling.

Today, as my puppies approach their thirteenth birthday, I am a bit heavyhearted as I watch them limp with arthritis and ignore my commands due to failed hearing. Still, I get so much joy out of watching them play with my two human daughters, Hannah and Jordyn. Those dogs taught me how to love and how to laugh. They showed me how to play hard and how to relax comfortably. Yet, most importantly, they taught me the importance of a little thing called sisterhood. And for that, I will always be grateful.