Kuma: November 1, 2005 - October 7, 2019

From the start, Kuma was a special dog. She was full of energy and, more than anything else, Kuma loved to run. As a puppy, she and I spent hours every day running through the trails of Bird Hills chasing squirrels and deer, or trying to get lost in the woods at Silver Creek. Our classes at puppy kindergarten always started out with a bit of playtime to get the dogs to burn off some energy – the teacher always looked to Kuma to decide when playtime was over, since she usually had, by far, the most energy of the pack.

Kuma and her boundless energy were right at home in the woods, though staying on the trail was not high on her list of priorities. Once when we took Kuma and Owen rock climbing in Kentucky she ran her way down a cliff (thankfully she was okay!). Even into her older years whenever we would turn onto a dirt road she would suddenly perk up, sniffing and looking out the window – she knew something awesome was about to happen.

When I brought Kuma to Will’s parent’s house in Pittsburgh for the first time, she made quite a first impression by jumping over the couch in their family room. And Linda still talks about the day she went for a run with Kuma around Lake Harriet – Kuma was so excited to go in the water she pulled Linda, wearing her brand new running shoes, in with her.

Kuma loved when her uncle Ben would come visit us in Ann Arbor. He would throw balls down the steps for her to retrieve over and over and over again (honestly making the rest of us crazy). He would take her running and say that his running pace was her normal walking pace. I believe she was just built to move faster than the rest of us humans and dogs.

Even as she got on in her years she was still mistaken for a young dog as she would leap and jaunt up and down the hill in our backyard, catch balls in mid-air, or prance around in excitement when a visitor arrived.

Paired with this energy and dexterity was the kindest heart. There was really not a single mean bone in Kuma’s body. I remember once when she actually caught a squirrel in the woods she immediately responded when I yelled, “Drop it!” and the squirrel ran off. She was so good with Ava and Eli when they entered her life, tolerating Eli’s ideas to dress her up and providing quiet love and stinky kisses when they would climb into her bed and snuggle with her.

She was an effective squirrel and bunny chaser at our Tangletown home. Whenever I spotted squirrels climbing up the bird feeder or the bunnies eating my plants in the garden I would say “Kuma, there’s a bunny!” and she would tear out the backdoor in a determined chase. The critters would scatter in all directions and Kuma would stand guarding the yard with her tail held in a high arc, eyes scanning the area for any lingerers.

Like all of us, she had her faults. She had a habit of wandering into our neighbors Leslie and Carleton’s backyard to deposit a fresh poop or steal one of Romeo’s bones. Every now and I then on a sunny spring day I would hear Leslie from her yard admonishing, “Kuma!” She would come prancing back to our yard, gleefully hopping over Leslie’s hundreds of carefully planted tulips.

A little more than a year ago Kuma came down with pneumonia and we learned that she had a degenerative neurological condition called Geriatric Onset Laryngeal Paralysis and Polyneuropathy (GOLPP). This meant Kuma’s larynx didn’t fully open or close and that she was progressively losing strength and control of her hind legs. Once she recovered from the pneumonia though, it didn’t seem to slow her down too much. She would still take any opportunity she could to run up the hill searching for bunnies, even as she increasingly had a hard time laying down and navigating tricky or slippery terrain.

When we left for our sabbatical in Spain we were all optimistic that she would carry on as she had been, slowing down, but continuing to live her quieter, less energetic days as a wise, old lady dog. She stayed in our house with her lifelong friend and foe Lola the cat, as well as Mady and Alex, who lived in our house caring for them.

Kuma got sick one night a few weeks ago. We still don’t know exactly what happened – perhaps it was some kind of neurological event related to her condition. Mady, Alex and our neighbor Carleton all took her into the vet multiple times to try to help her get better, coaxing her to eat even as she wasn’t able to stand up. She did start to improve a bit eventually, but in those days when we reflected on her life and all she loved most it became clear to us that this sweet dog who loved running and jumping could not be happy living without being able to move freely. And while saying good-bye from afar is surreal and desperately hard, we knew she could not wait for us to get home just so we could have our moment with her. She was surrounded by love from both near and far as we let her go on Monday, October 7^th.

While grieving her passing, I am focusing on the gift of her long, happy life and feeling very lucky that she was my friend. At nearly 14 years old, she lived longer than we could have hoped and shared so many different phases of life with me. The woods and our neighborhood are no doubt a little quieter without me yelling “Kuma, come!” to try to lure her back from chasing some small animal or sniffing around our neighbor’s peonies. And our family will miss her so so dearly. It’s hard to even remember what life was like before her. I imagine her spirit is free from a body that no longer allowed her to do her favorite things and is running, leaping, soaring among all of us who loved her.

I invite all of you who have memories or stories of Kuma to please share them in the comments. Her spirit stays alive through the stories we tell and helps us smile in her memory while grieving her loss.