In Memoriam
Joy, the Akita
November 12, 1999 - November 1, 2014
November 12, 1999 - November 1, 2014
Joy (née Diamond) came into this world on November 12, 1999 as Diamond, a name fitting for such a prissy and dignified dog. The first two years of her life were spent with an elderly woman. After her owner died, the pregnant Diamond was given away to a shelter. Eight rainbow colored Akitas later (some brown, others white, and a few black) Diamond became known in the shelter as “The Mama”. Joy’s happy disposition was memorable. Years later we’d visit the same shelter and the people would always remember her as “The Mama”.
I decided upon the Akita breed because they had characteristics that matched my style-- strong and silent, loyal, and independent. As fate would have it, I was in luck! Akitas are rarely found in shelters. Diamond was in solitude recovering from birth and therefore not on the floor with the other dogs available for adoption. When I met Diamond she threw her 70 pounds upon me and stole my heart. From then on she became known as Joy, and that was her gift to me and all who met her.
Joy had a magical aura to her. It's as if your heart calmed and your spirits lifted just by being near her. She brought a lot of gifts to the humans she encountered. The greatest gifts she taught me were those of compassion, gratitude, patience and discipline. Joy greeted each day with enthusiasm and excitement. She was always joyful!
Joy left a lasting, favorable impression on everyone she met. Although many people were easily intimated by Joy because of her size, their hearts would melt after meeting her. Joy loved all humans. She'd sit still while babies explored her face and rubbed her coat. Her presence was comforting. Joy would bring laughter to honored citizens at nursing homes. And when we'd get home, seemingly not aware of her size, Joy would try to sit on my lap! She liked the human touch. In fact, whenever she went to the groomers, they would rave about how much Joy loved to be cleaned, brushed and pampered.
Joy was an inside dog and she made that clear from the beginning. One of the first few days of being in her new home Joy decided that she did not want to be left alone in the backyard, so she dug a hole under the fence and waited for me on the porch!
Joy was the dog who got kicked out of doggy day care for being too much of an alpha. She insisted that all dogs follow her lead, regardless of their size. A mentally unstable male Akita refused to bow down and chose to challenge Joy instead. Joy fought back furiously without making a sound. The male limped away whimpering. Joy pranced off as if nothing had happened.
Despite being such a dominant dog, she loved to play! Once creatures realized she wasn’t a wolf, they’d usually partake in a game. Joy tried to play with a possum in the backyard once. The poor possum played dead and Joy tried to bring it back to life! Once we happened upon a family of deer while walking. They were less than 30 feet away from us. I was afraid that Joy would try to engage them in a game of catch-me-if-you-can, but instead we all just stood watching one another. It was the most peaceful encounter ever.
She was a special dog with a keen sense of human needs. If Joy sensed something wrong with anyone, she’d let me know with her low, continuous growl. If Joy didn’t trust you, she’d sleep with one eye open (literally). She was very protective and I always felt safe with her near.
Once while walking, she alerted me to a woman blocks away in distress. Joy insisted that we stop walking and she barked until the woman approached us. The woman was crying. I asked if she needed help and she replied no. Joy waited until the woman was far gone and then she loosened her firm hold to let me know it was time to walk again.
If Joy could talk, she’d be the humorous one of the group always finding a way to make you laugh and ensuring that all eyes remain on her. She’d flirt with all the males and sneak to steal everyone’s treats when they turned their backs. Joy was a trickster until the end. Some of her last days were spent faking pain and pretending to not want to go outside so she could go back inside and steal Yoshi’s food and bone.
Joy began showing signs of degenerative nerve disease about a year before her death. The pain medication helped although her quality of life lessened. Joy could no longer walk for more than a block before she'd rest. She began losing control of her bowels the last month or so. Joy had a seizure on her last day after all of her legs gave out. I watched her helplessly and then something stirred in my spirit to let me know it was time. Some people believe that seizures are the soul’s way of being ready to leave life. Leaving Joy is bittersweet. I experienced life and death with her.
Joy was laid to rest on November 1, 2014 due to complications following degenerative nerve disease and a seizure. She was approaching her 15th year, which is over 100 human years! Joy left behind her loyal and faithful best dog buddy, Yoshi.
New life is humbling. It takes us to places of compassion and tethers us to love. Death is grounding. It creates an urgency to seize the day and focus on what matters. Joy reminded me of all these things and for that I am forever grateful. She followed me wherever I went, even to the end and despite any pain. It felt great to know that Joy was always in my shadow, and forever in my heart.
-Fenesha
I decided upon the Akita breed because they had characteristics that matched my style-- strong and silent, loyal, and independent. As fate would have it, I was in luck! Akitas are rarely found in shelters. Diamond was in solitude recovering from birth and therefore not on the floor with the other dogs available for adoption. When I met Diamond she threw her 70 pounds upon me and stole my heart. From then on she became known as Joy, and that was her gift to me and all who met her.
Joy had a magical aura to her. It's as if your heart calmed and your spirits lifted just by being near her. She brought a lot of gifts to the humans she encountered. The greatest gifts she taught me were those of compassion, gratitude, patience and discipline. Joy greeted each day with enthusiasm and excitement. She was always joyful!
Joy left a lasting, favorable impression on everyone she met. Although many people were easily intimated by Joy because of her size, their hearts would melt after meeting her. Joy loved all humans. She'd sit still while babies explored her face and rubbed her coat. Her presence was comforting. Joy would bring laughter to honored citizens at nursing homes. And when we'd get home, seemingly not aware of her size, Joy would try to sit on my lap! She liked the human touch. In fact, whenever she went to the groomers, they would rave about how much Joy loved to be cleaned, brushed and pampered.
Joy was an inside dog and she made that clear from the beginning. One of the first few days of being in her new home Joy decided that she did not want to be left alone in the backyard, so she dug a hole under the fence and waited for me on the porch!
Joy was the dog who got kicked out of doggy day care for being too much of an alpha. She insisted that all dogs follow her lead, regardless of their size. A mentally unstable male Akita refused to bow down and chose to challenge Joy instead. Joy fought back furiously without making a sound. The male limped away whimpering. Joy pranced off as if nothing had happened.
Despite being such a dominant dog, she loved to play! Once creatures realized she wasn’t a wolf, they’d usually partake in a game. Joy tried to play with a possum in the backyard once. The poor possum played dead and Joy tried to bring it back to life! Once we happened upon a family of deer while walking. They were less than 30 feet away from us. I was afraid that Joy would try to engage them in a game of catch-me-if-you-can, but instead we all just stood watching one another. It was the most peaceful encounter ever.
She was a special dog with a keen sense of human needs. If Joy sensed something wrong with anyone, she’d let me know with her low, continuous growl. If Joy didn’t trust you, she’d sleep with one eye open (literally). She was very protective and I always felt safe with her near.
Once while walking, she alerted me to a woman blocks away in distress. Joy insisted that we stop walking and she barked until the woman approached us. The woman was crying. I asked if she needed help and she replied no. Joy waited until the woman was far gone and then she loosened her firm hold to let me know it was time to walk again.
If Joy could talk, she’d be the humorous one of the group always finding a way to make you laugh and ensuring that all eyes remain on her. She’d flirt with all the males and sneak to steal everyone’s treats when they turned their backs. Joy was a trickster until the end. Some of her last days were spent faking pain and pretending to not want to go outside so she could go back inside and steal Yoshi’s food and bone.
Joy began showing signs of degenerative nerve disease about a year before her death. The pain medication helped although her quality of life lessened. Joy could no longer walk for more than a block before she'd rest. She began losing control of her bowels the last month or so. Joy had a seizure on her last day after all of her legs gave out. I watched her helplessly and then something stirred in my spirit to let me know it was time. Some people believe that seizures are the soul’s way of being ready to leave life. Leaving Joy is bittersweet. I experienced life and death with her.
Joy was laid to rest on November 1, 2014 due to complications following degenerative nerve disease and a seizure. She was approaching her 15th year, which is over 100 human years! Joy left behind her loyal and faithful best dog buddy, Yoshi.
New life is humbling. It takes us to places of compassion and tethers us to love. Death is grounding. It creates an urgency to seize the day and focus on what matters. Joy reminded me of all these things and for that I am forever grateful. She followed me wherever I went, even to the end and despite any pain. It felt great to know that Joy was always in my shadow, and forever in my heart.
-Fenesha