Coming Home to Dixie

(Trigger Warning – serious health condition discussed)

I looked out at the mist that hung low over the valley. Tears welled up in my eyes.
Cancer.
That word sunk heavy in my heart.

We had just come back home from taking Ava to the vet. Our beloved German Shepherd had a large tumor in her mouth that had quickly grown larger each week, and the sores on her body were more than likely connected to whatever had begun to take hold of her. She still had a playful spirit, but there was a knowing sadness in her eyes, and she had begun to cling to us with the seeming understanding that her time is near.

Flashbacks flooded my mind as I sat on the patio looking out over the valley.

I thought about seeing her just a few weeks after she came into the world. She was the runt of the litter, and even though we had the pick of the litter, we chose her. There was an instant connection when we saw her, and that feeling was confirmed when Jim picked her up and she snuggled into his neck like she had always belonged there.

A month later we were able to bring her home. I held her on the one‑hour drive back, barely taking my eyes off of her tiny face. We stopped at a pet store to get a few supplies for her, and just as we parked, she threw up all over the front passenger floor. It felt like the very beginning of a long journey with this little one who would need extra care.

The first couple of weeks we nearly lost her to a parasite that caused intestinal issues and affected her ability to gain weight. She was already on the smaller side of her weight range because she was the runt, and now she was getting even smaller. A few visits to the vet and careful monitoring of her food and medication helped, and after a few weeks she began gaining weight and was finally out of danger.

But she quickly learned to play the victim and get our sympathy.

She was a little smaller than our chihuahua, Layla, and they played well together, but every once in a while Layla would assert her dominance as the “big” sister and nip Ava’s ankles. The first time that happened, I thought someone was dying for all the screaming and yapping Ava did. I came out to the scene just in time for Ava to see me and dramatically fall onto her back, as if she had just survived a brutal attack.

That’s when I knew what a big drama queen she was.

Ava quickly grew bigger than Layla that first year, but it didn’t change the fact that Layla was still the boss. Still, they were inseparable. I would often find them curled up together, sharing beds, sharing warmth, sharing quiet companionship. When Layla passed away, you could see the sadness in Ava’s eyes. She wandered more, slept more, and seemed to be searching for something she had lost.

When we brought Honey home a few months later, Ava came back to life. She welcomed her eagerly, following her everywhere, teaching her how to play, how to nap in the sun, how to beg for treats. Then came Archie — bigger than Ava — and she accepted him too, gently and patiently. And more recently, Cooper, our little mini dachshund. Somehow, her heart always made room.

As she’s gotten older, her nurturing side has only grown stronger. Watching her guard the sheep, lying quietly nearby, always alert, always present, she reminds me of the nanny dog in Peter Pan, faithfully watching over her little ones.

And yet… she never lost her flair for the dramatic.

One of her most endearing quirks is that she howls whenever Jim yawns. A tiny yawn can turn into a full-blown howling performance, with Jim and Ava trying to outdo each other. Now Honey joins in too, and the three of them have become a howling chorus. It’s ridiculous and wonderful and so very Ava.

And now, knowing what we know, it’s hard not to cry when I look at her.

I find myself wondering how many weeks we have left. I want her to feel the sun and the wind on her face. I want her to enjoy the best food, the best treats, the softest beds, and all the love we can possibly give her. I want her to know that her life has been more than a dog’s life—it’s been a companion’s life, a healer’s life, a protector’s life.

Ava has been more than man’s best friend.

She’s been a part of our hearts. And always will be.