Eric and I met Everett in October, 1994. We picked an arbitrary day in March as Everett's birthday. Because she already had her permanent teeth when we first met, the vet suggested she was born sometime this month--we chose the 6th because March 6, 1994 was the day I left the Twin Cities for Anchorage, AK.
Everett is from Newington, CT, where she was found by the police in a sorry state. Eric and I lived in CT at the time, and when we first saw her, she'd been in Connecticut K-9 for 7 days. She looked as though she'd just arrived. Starving, she was so thin her backbone, hip bones, and shoulder blades jutted out from under her skin, making her difficult to touch. She literally had no muscles. Eric called her a skeleton with dandruff and it was really true. Her hind legs were touching at what you and I might call her elbows (hock is the dog anatomy term), and sadly, the vet who checked her for us could not determine if this was a birth defect, or a result of starvation. But we were on the hunt for another dog, a special dog. Our resident pet, Kechel (age 6), was very particular whom he would let near me. Kechel was a rescue himself from a Dedham, MA shelter, when he was about 1.5 years old. A Vizsla/Doberman cross, Kechel had ALSO had a rough beginning and once he filled out, he became not only the world's most beautiful animal, but also my 24/7 guard dog. It was important that whatever dog we brought home was acceptable to Kechel. The introduction went well--with me nowhere near the pen, Eric was able to introduce this starving puppy to Kechel. I approached the pen...I entered the pen...I stroked and played with this sad excuse of a puppy and Kechel did not make any objections. Everett was so small compared to him, but he let her climb on him, chase him, allowed her near me. We brought her home. Eric named her Everett, after his paternal grandfather. Everett's frame was essentially full grown, but in her sad state she fit between Kechel's front and back legs when he stretched out on his side. We have no pictures of this--only the ones in our heads. In fact, we have no pictures of her first few days with us. In hindsight I wish we did, so we could compare, with accuracy, her progress.
So fast forward a bit--she filled out, thankfully with a sound structure, and poor Kechel probably never had another day in her presence, of complete peace. Everett was relentless almost from Day One, and in such a dilapidated state! In the course of her obedience training and daily conversation, Kechel became the Big Dog, and Everett the Little Girl. Eric and I learned if we wanted her to leave us alone, the best way to distract her was to give a toy to KECHEL. Kechel, bless his heart, tolerated most of her antics, to a point. As she grew, her challenges to him became more and more pronounced and within a few years, their disputes were sending Kechel to the hospital. She tore his ear. She put a hole in his flew (flaps that cover their teeth). I think the most serious injury was a tooth straight into his chest--we didn't know how serious it was until the next day when we woke up to a grapefruit sized sack of fluid on his ribs. He went in for emergency surgery, and came home with a catheter to allow drainage. I know there were more injuries--Eric might remember different ones than I do--but it was not ALL conflict. They played. They shared food. I have photos of them stretched out together in the sun. They stayed together in the bedroom while we were at work. We really did have a good time with both dogs. Everett became a GREAT running partner for me. I trained for my first marathon with her (she did not partake in the race--dogs aren't allowed). She demanded lots of exercise--much more than Kechel had needed as a young dog. I bought a harness for her and she learned how to pull me on rollerblades. I went through three pairs of blades over the next 6 years or so, which is impressive considering New England winters are not conducive to year round blading!
Eric and I went our separate ways when Everett was about 3.5, and Kechel was getting close to 10. I take full blame for the end of our relationship. We decided to switch dogs--I gave Kechel to Eric and I took Everett. Eric moved on, and a few years later married a good friend from high school. Their wedding was Friday--on Sunday he called to say Kechel was in need of help. Eric had returned home to MN by then--I was in Georgia. Kechel had been on meds for his heart for years--Eric had taken excellent care of him. At age 15 Kechel's heart was failing; he could not lie down because of the pressure his chest put on his heart. He had not slept in 3 days, and Eric didn't know what to do. He was leaving for Great Britain that day for a week of work, and Darci was joining him for their honeymoon overseas. Timing is everything, right? Together, we decided it was time to put Kechel to sleep, and Eric started married life without that last tie to me. I regret to this day that I was not there to help Eric in person with the important event of ending Kechel's life.
I have lived in four states since Everett and I left CT. I acquired Ansel in 1998, when my sister found him on her doorstep in Brooklyn, NY (I was still living in CT at the time, but Eric and Kechel had already moved to Chicago, so Kechel and Ansel never met). When I moved to the Boston area, I was running with both dogs--even blading with both, though Ansel never wore a harness (Everett did most of the pulling--he was just along for the ride). I lived in Brookline, and I look back on this now with AMAZEMENT, but we'd get up before daybreak on Saturdays and they'd pull me down Commonwealth Avenue. It was early enough that there was no serious traffic until our return trip time, and by then Eve was tired enough to be trotting instead of the full tilt running on the way out. Comm Ave is lined with oak trees...oak trees mean acorns in the fall...acorns mean squirrels...squirrels were something to chase and that meant I REALLY had to pay attention. Curbs, parked cars, traffic lights, gravel, broken pavement, and so on are all pitfalls to rollerblades and none of them meant ANYTHING to Everett as she kicked up her running to chase the ever-present squirrels. I'll say with a straight face that it must've been just hilarious watching our progress down the street as she lunged for squirrel after squirrel, and acted as my brake at the same time if she made it to the object allowing the squirrel's escape--usually a tree. She'd jump up on the tree while I zoomed past her, and dig in when my weight reached the end of the leash. I don't remember any incidents where Ansel went after a different squirrel than Eve...what would I have done if the dogs went in different directions and there I am on wheels?? Thankfully, he's never been a very good tracker--Eve follows the same squirrel as far as she can see it, including along phone lines but Ansel has never been that observant.
Fast forward again, and Eve is pulling me for miles on the Silver Comet trail, outside Atlanta, GA. I used to drive for more than 30 minutes every weekend, to get to this trail. I feel terrible saying this, but we'd go so far that we wore off some of the pads on Ansel's paws. Poor Ansel! Of course as soon as I realized what was happening I stopped taking him--at least for the longer durations. This exercise was so important that the location of my first home purchase was influenced by the trail--the home had to be within reasonable driving distance of the trail. By the time I bought my second home in GA Everett was old enough that the blading was not mandatory, but optional.
Fast forward again, and here we are in MN. Since Eve is from CT, and Ansel is from NY, the winter snow is not unknown to them, but perhaps the cold is a bit much for their bones. Ansel, as we know, has almost no hair, so he REALLY doesn't like temperatures below 10 degrees. Everett has a lot more insulation, but also has more years, so the magic 10 degrees is about her limit too. Up to this winter, I was still running with both dogs although the distances have come way down. These days our runs are so short I don't even put on running shoes--boots, clogs, and flip flops have all been "running" foot attire.
I have more stories, but I think this blog is long enough for today. It is obvious that we saved Everett's life by adopting her in October, 1994. We've been through a lot--lived in different places, done different things, known different opportunities and situations. Through all of this, I feel greatful to say, I think Everett has saved my life too. Happy birthday, Little Girl.
This snow is just incredible. We are to receive about 10 inches or so, before the storm moves on.
And the little girl is just loving it! When we're outside, she's bouncing around, chasing Ansel and playing like any dog in the heavy wet snow. This is a dog's dream of weather--it isn't very cold, anything that moves is easily seen in all the whiteness, and the smaller animals (squirrels, rabbits, etc.) struggle to run away. 
