November 18, 2022

"Dad, every year on this day momma would tell us the story of Puff the Magical. Would you tell us the story? Diva and Lilly haven't heard it yet." Okay, Zsofia, I'll tell you all the story. Everybody gather around, and we'll have story time.

In 2010, which was a LONG time ago, there was an Eskie breeder who only 6 years before that had an idyllic farm in Kansas and bred happy healthy brilliant pups who lived with the family in their house. The farm fell on hard times financially. As the entire country's situation worsened over the previous few years, the demand for expensive purebred puppies had decreased. The farm went into foreclosure. At about the same time, the breeder discovered she had brain cancer and as it progressed she lost mobility and the ability to function. The farm was lost, and the family was forced to move into a rental trailer where the dogs were not allowed inside by the landlord. Consequently, for some time, the animals lived in dog houses in the yard…their once sparkling white coats matted and their shining eyes dimmed from hopelessness.

A rescue acquaintance discovered the situation and bought four of the pups along with the sire and rehomed them (keeping two himself). He teared up as he described the conditions and lamented that he had to leave the 12 year old dam behind because he had no more room. “No one in that small town is going to take in an old broken down Eskie, she is sleeping outside in the dirt because she's afraid of the dog house and it's getting so cold at night,” he shared.

When he said the name of the town, momma and I became concerned. We asked him to repeat and then asked if the one-time kennel had been named after the surrounding hills. His answer chilled us…this was the kennel White Dog had come from! The same breeder who had so carefully screened us. The same breeder who took such pride in her “babies.” The breeder that gave us such a loving, wise, incredible companion in the form of Siku had been reduced to this!

Without even needing to debate, and despite the fact that we had just adopted Nuka, we told him that we would take in Puff, that we owed a distant relative of Siku—and her birthplace-- that much. So from our family who had at one time said with certainty, “We are a one dog house!” we became the White Dog Army.

The next day, I flew with Terry in his personal plane to rescue Puff from any more nights of sleeping in the dirt in 30 degree temperatures. And we said a prayer that someday no pup will ever sleep out in the cold, hungry and abandoned by hope. "Thanks for rescuing me from being out in the cold too, dad." declared Lilly. "I love cuddling here with you on this nice, warm bed."