Suzy
Suzy: The Fluffy Tornado
Suzy’s story begins with a swirl of fluff and excitement. When I was seventeen, my mom decided to add a new member to our family—a Samoyed-Husky mix with an enchanting, snow-like coat and an aura of boundless energy. At just three months old, Suzy was a living, breathing ball of white fur, and her arrival was like a burst of winter in our lives.
From the moment she came home from the local pet store, Suzy was undeniably the most beautiful puppy you could imagine. Her coat was thick and plush, resembling a puff of smoke or a fluffy snowdrift. Her appearance was so striking that it was easy to overlook the fact that she was a bit of a whirlwind. Having spent a significant portion of her young life in the pet store, Suzy lacked basic training and quickly made up for it by indulging in her favorite pastime: destruction.
Suzy's enthusiastic destruction began with her toys and little pillows, but as she grew, so did her ambitions. She would take pleasure in shredding anything she could get her paws on, from my mom’s new floral couch—purchased from Levitz—and leaving us with an eye-watering mess of fabric and stuffing, to my mom’s console stereo, which became a casualty of Suzy's exuberant chewing. I remember the day my mom discovered the couch; she was heartbroken, and while her distress was palpable, I couldn't help but feel a secret sense of relief. The floral pattern had never been my favorite.
Despite her propensity for mayhem, Suzy had a heart of gold. She was the most lovable dog, particularly when it snowed in Denver. Her response to the snowy weather was pure joy; she would leap and dig with boundless enthusiasm, her thick fur puffing out around her as she frolicked. Even in the dead of winter, her fluffy coat made her feel too warm, as though she was perpetually in a cozy little oven.
The summer of 1983 brought a major change. My mom relocated to Arizona, where the scorching temperatures would have been unbearable for Suzy. I took on the responsibility of caring for her, and while our bond was strong, her destructive tendencies continued to escalate. It became a battle to keep my belongings safe from her relentless chewing.
Feeling a bit lonely and overwhelmed by Suzy’s antics, I decided to find a companion for both of us. A German Shepherd mix caught my eye in the local newspaper, listed as available for a good home. I visited his owner, a flight attendant who struggled to give him the attention he needed. Despite his name being KC after the Kansas City Chiefs, I decided to rename him Casey—a nod to the original while reflecting my own Broncos loyalty.
Casey and Suzy were about the same age, and I hoped they would become fast friends. However, their introduction was anything but smooth. Suzy, ever the diva, saw Casey as competition and quickly established her dominance by attacking him. The confrontation left Casey with a permanent scar on his lip, a stark reminder of their turbulent first meeting.
The escalating tensions between Suzy and Casey, combined with the impending move to Arizona—where Suzy would undoubtedly suffer in the desert heat—led me to make a difficult decision. I reached out to a Husky rescue organization, which found Suzy a new home with people who understood her needs and were equipped to address her destructive habits. It was a bittersweet farewell, knowing that Suzy would be in a place where she could thrive in cooler weather and receive the proper training she deserved.
While it broke our hearts to part with Suzy, deep down we knew it was the right choice for her well-being. Her new home offered her a fresh start, and we were comforted by the thought that she was finally in a place where she could be loved and cared for in a way that we, despite our best efforts, couldn't quite manage.
Suzy’s time with us was a whirlwind of joy and challenges, leaving a lasting impression on our lives. Her fluffy presence and exuberant spirit will always be remembered fondly, and though it was hard to say goodbye, knowing she found her place in the world brings a sense of peace and satisfaction.
