One day I went to the shopping centre to buy myself a bed, but instead, I came home with a puppy. I'd wandered through the pet shop and fallen instantly in love with her. She was half malamute, half Rottweiler and she was only 8 weeks old. The staff at the shop, called her 'The Malli' and the name kinda stuck. I walked out of the shop beaming and cuddling her in my arms. It was the stupidest, most impulsive decision I've probably ever made but one, I've never regretted.
I learnt pretty quickly that Malamutes are....well....
We moved into our first proper rental home, me, Malli and the new(ish) boyfriend. It was the perfect house for an ever-growing, kinda psycho large breed dog.....a 2 bedroom townhouse with a small courtyard.
To make up for the shitty lack of space, I took Malli everywhere and when I had to leave her at home she was allowed to roam the entire house. Her favourite place of all was our balcony. She loved socializing with the people walking past, she'd drag various bits of 'treasure' outside and drop it down to them as gifts (stuffed toys= ok, giant bones= kinda scary, a vibrator= um?)
The even bigger mistake though, was moving in with new(ish) boyfriend, who quickly revealed himself to be a big(ish) dickhead. I don't know how many times Malli and I huddled up together in the bedroom, waiting for him to finish destroying the house. It was one of the lowest points of my life & it would take me over 2 years to find the courage to leave.
Those would be the only times in the early days, when that giant, fluffy psycho dog would sit calmly. I'd cry, feeling like the loneliest person on earth and she'd put her big fluffy head on my lap. I don't know how many times I nuzzled into that fur and howled. She was the only one who knew how miserable life really was.
I don't think anyone could ever quite figure out why I put up with Malli. Her sense of adventure was a constant (and expensive) headache. She went through a stage where she escaped so many times, the pound had me on speed dial. A few times, she barged open neighbors doors and joined them at their dinner table. She jumped in a neighbors pool, she 'played' with another neighbors guinea pig and almost caused a few car accidents. She was a terror but she was my terror.
I went to Sydney one weekend and my housemate made a batch of hash cookies. They were reportedly so strong that one cookie rendered them too stoned to notice Malli polishing off the rest of the tray. Malli spent a night in ICU and had the munchies for a week (I was not impressed).
Over the last month, we have been backwards and forth from the Vet because Malli had something up her nose. The diagnosis changed so many times from (1) innocuous grass seed, and (2) Cancer. She had a few minor surgeries, and after one, she deteriorated rapidly. Last Friday, she stared at me with an expression that I'd never seen from her before. She was telling me that it was almost time to say goodbye. At that moment, I knew I didn't need a second opinion.
My last duty to her was to make sure that she didn't suffer and abandon my selfish need to save her life at all costs. So last Sunday, I said goodbye to my crazy, lovable furball. The last thing she did was lay her head in my arms and close her eyes. For one last time, I nuzzled into her big fluffy head and when she closed her eyes, I cried.
Rest in Peace my Malli Princess.
Thank you for being there when no one else could. You are gone but you will never be forgotten.