My family came and rescued me in March 1992. I had been abandoned and taken in by the pound and then Patriot Siberian Husky Rescue League. They saved my life. After spending six months with them recovering from the abuse and neglect from my previous owner, I finally got a permanent home.

The Cowie's came from far away to take me into their home and become an adopted brother for their other Siberian named Czar. We were a happy family immediately. Czar was glad to have a buddy and I was too. My new family gave me great toys and let me sleep in bed with them. We had a fenced yard to run and play in. We took rides in the truck and I could even stick my head out of the window when I was in the front seat. It was heavenly. I was grateful for my new chance at life and would give them as many happy years in return as I could.

We ended up spending just over 13 years together. That gave us time to go on many hikes on trails along the Kancamangus. I can't count how many cookies and treats I got. We went for walks on the beach at the ocean. We even had Christmas presents every year. I suppose it was because we were so good for Mom when she would take our photo for the annual Cowie Christmas card to send to family and friends. I got more brothers and sisters and even a cat in my 13 years with my family; eventually there were four of us. There was me, Sasha, Isabella and Duke, plus Little Mister the cat. We moved to the North Country. There we had over 27 acres and went on walks almost every day. We also did some recreational dog sledding. I was the old guy so I got spoiled. I wouldn't hook up to the team until they were on the way back, all tired. Mom would take me in the truck and meet up with them. I was the oldest and all the others in "our" pack treated me like a king.

In my later years I did a lot of sleeping. I had my own bed and nobody ever went into it. Sometimes the rest of the pack would be in the yard and I would decide to join in. It seems like they all stopped and gazed at me and treated me like royalty when I came out. I was too old to play much but I would certainly give it a try and they all respected my quitting when I got too tired.

In my golden years I got sick a couple of times. Mom and Dad were quick to my rescue. I had a great team of vets to help me. They gave me the nick-name (along with many others) of Miracle Dog. I sort of had nine lives like a cat. They got me the best food and the best medicine to give me the best life they could. I will always love them for that. I am glad we had such a great bond. They would always know when I wasn't feeling well. They would pamper me. I even got to lick the cat food bowl after he ate what he wanted. It was my daily treat. In the end I couldn't get up by myself. They would pick me up and I would walk around the yard and hold my own. I gave all I had my last few weeks. I was going on 17 in 2005 and by now I was getting pretty worn out. My last days got pretty hard but I was determined to try to hold on.

On August 22, 2005 I finally got too tired and sick. I had to leave my wonderful family. I wish I could have stayed as much as they wish the same. I will be waiting in heaven for them though. My champion spirit will live on there and in their hearts.

Until I see you again, may you always remember my happy funny quirks, my determination, our many years together, and my joy of being your Ivan.