Pet Talks: Whitney from Anything Lime on love, companionship and supermutts

{Pet Talks — with your favorite bloggers. A series in which I ask one of our favorite internet celebrities to spill the beans on her most hilarious pet-parent moments, and to share how her fur-ball has shaped her life.}

I met Whitney in the spring of 2010…at her wedding.  She and my boyfriend had been close friends since high school, and I was excited to finally meet her in person.  Turns out, she’s pretty darn awesome (my boyfriend has excellent taste in friends), and I was soon addicted to her blog, Anything Lime.  A passionate dog rescuer, Whitney is bursting with funny, sweet, and touching stories about her beautiful rescue mutt Kya.

How is it that Kya came into your life?

Kya came into my life serendipitously. My little sister adopted a 6-month-old puppy back in 2004, and then three months later brought another puppy home. She lived with my mom at the time, who said two puppies was one too many, and so while I had no intention to keep the second puppy, who was five weeks old at the time, I thought that I could at least try to find her a home. After all, I wasn’t a dog person. I had a cat.

When my sister came up to visit and hand off the tiny pup, that little fluff ball and I had an instant connection. Holding her in my hands and knowing how much she needed me was one of the most profound experiences of my life. Looking back, I realize how much I needed her, too.

What kind of dog is Kya, how old is she, and how did you come up with that name?

She’s a supermutt! Our curiosity got the best of us a couple years ago, and we had her DNA tested with Wisdom Panel. The following four breeds make up a combined 50 percent of Kya’s genetic makeup: rottweiler, rough collie, german shepherd and akita. We were surprised to not see Aussie or Border collie in there, because her mantle coloring so closely resembles those breeds, but it could be a total fluke! The lack of significant and secondary breeds in Kya’s DNA means that she didn’t have any purebred parents or grandparents. She’s at least a third-generation mutt.

Kya turns seven in May. It’s hard to believe that she’s grown up and gotten so old so fast. I’ve had her since she was five weeks old, and our relationship is the longest, closest relationship I’ve ever had. I know it sounds so strange, but I’ve not ever been this close to someone for so long who wasn’t a blood relative. I’ve seen friends and boyfriends come and go, but Kya and I have fought it out, had some WWE-style wrestling matches, and still at the end of the day have agreed that we wouldn’t want a life without each other. I can’t explain the kind of comfort and support I’ve gotten from having Kya as my companion for the better part of the last decade. I can picture a time when I was lying on the floor in my apartment in college sobbing my eyes out and Kya came over and curled up next to me and put her head on my side. It seems complicated and probably strange and maybe a little hard to believe that we understand each other so well without being able to speak the same language. Part of me wants to argue that we do speak the same language, while another part of me thinks we don’t have to.

I found her name at BabyNames.com, actually. When my sister first gave her to me, she told me she was a husky mix. Her eyes are blue, so I absolutely believed her, and when I looked at photos of huskies, I learned there are visible differences between Alaskan huskies and Siberian huskies. I thought I’d pay a nod to Alaska (after guessing that she was the former of the two husky varieties) and call her “Juneau.” And then after dwelling on that name for a while, decided that I liked “Juno” after the Roman goddess known for her eternal youthful looks. I thought that was fitting – Kya was so young when I got her that she hadn’t yet formed a snout! My ex-boyfriend at the time vetoed that name, which I later felt thankful for because whenever I’d take Kya to dog parks, there would be 12 dogs named Juneau. Kya was without a name for a couple of weeks, and she answered to “dog baby” and “puppy.”

“Kya” means “Diamonds in the sky.” It’s an African name, and it tips a hat to her eyes that are as warm as they are icy blue. Coincidentally, I also call her “Bijou,” which means “jewel.” I saw it on a boutique storefront sign years ago without realizing that it had a similar meaning to her own name. She is my little jewel, and so she ended up with a name that’s absolutely perfect. And every time I say it or think about it, Kya, it becomes even more lovely to me. I think that means I made the right choice!

If Kya had a super power, what would it be?

It would definitely be the ability to control the weather. Summers in Florida are rainy at best, and stormy at worst. Poor Kya hunkers down in a corner of our apartment we’ve deemed her “dungeon,” and, wrapped in her Thundershirt, prepares for the apocalypse. Poor dog. If she could have the power to make thunderstorms disappear forever, she’d be all about that.

If you and Kya were a famous two-some (ex: Bert and Ernie, Winnie the Pooh and Piglet, etc.) which would you be?

Kya and I are like Lilo and Stitch. She’s always there to pull me out of my darkest places, and I’m always working hard to make sure she’s a model citizen. Beyond that, Kya and I are a perfect Type-A-meets-Type-B match in that I’m really high-strung and anxious, and she’s always laid back and mellow. Except for when she sees a tennis ball and gets what we call “demon eyes.” Those are the times she’s most like Stitch, I suppose, in that it’s hard to believe, with the way she behaves, that she’s even from this planet!

What’s the most mischievous thing Kya’s ever done?

I was living with my dad between my junior and senior years of college, and he had recently adopted another rescue dog named Buckley. My dad was cooking some bratwurst on the grill, and when he stepped away for a few minutes to answer the phone, Kya made her move. He watched through the window helplessly as Kya snatched two bratwurst off the plate and dropped one on the ground for her friend – a much shorter terrier mix who couldn’t reach – before devouring the second one. If she’s going to steal, I suppose I’m proud that she was at least polite enough to share. Buck’s short stature would have prevented him from partaking in the fun if she hadn’t dropped him a freebie.

Another mischievous act came about during the aftermath of what my teammates and I refer to as the “flyball hangover” – after an exciting weekend of racing and score keeping and switching between various roles on a team, the few days that follow are a whirlwind of haze. Things go by more slowly, but also too quickly and therefore are exhausting. I had made the hours-long drive back from a tournament on a Sunday evening that, after racing went long, involved cleaning up followed by an awards ceremony, and I was just too tired to unpack the bags of supplies I’d carted to and from the tournament. I’d nearly fallen asleep walking to my door from the car, so I wasn’t thinking of the bag of treats – freeze dried liver, ew – that I’d left in a Ziploc bag in a tote bag on the floor. I’d simply let myself into my apartment, plopped everything down and slid into my bed, already sleeping.

The next morning before work I tried hurriedly to put all of her things away amidst my frenzied morning routing and couldn’t – for the life of me – find the bag of liver. If she’d eaten it, I thought, there’d at least be a chewed-up bag lying around here! I looked all over the place, even searched beneath the seats in my car before deciding I’d probably dropped it somewhere at the tournament. It wasn’t until a day or so later that I realized where the bag had gone. There she was at the end of her leash, squatting in the grass when the lightbulb went off in my head. I’d say it’s a testament to how well I know my dog that I was able to piece the scenario together after catching a mere glimpse at the discoloration of her poop.

Ever the archeologist, my bagged hand went in for the confirmation. During my examination, I realize the Ziploc seal was still sealed, if THAT isn’t a commercial-worthy testimonial!, and there was one tiny corner of the bag missing, as though she’d pulled out every piece of that liver through a tiny hole in one corner, and then ate the bag for dessert. She committed the crime and then devoured the evidence. And there was no way I could effectively punish her at that point. Still looking at the in-tact Ziploc bag, I shook my head slowly. I’d been bested. She had won.

Why is Kya so important to you?

Kya has redefined my life. I used to be very selfish. I was careless in the way I treated people, I didn’t have good relationships with the people in my family. I felt nonchalant about the feelings and well-being of others. Kya taught me compassion, and the lesson ran so deep that it’s at the core of who I am as a person. I became an active dog rescuer. And a vegetarian. And all of the lives I’ve saved are thanks to Kya, who showed me what it felt like to love another creature who was of a different species. To communicate in a way where love is our common language. And in learning to love so deeply, I’ve strengthened the relationships I have with my family members – they’ve become some of my greatest friends and allies – and I’ve learned how to sympathize with strangers and see the good in everyone. I’ve learned to be honest with others and also with myself. There were days that I felt so depressed that I likely wouldn’t have mustered the strength or the nerve to get out of bed had I not been on the hook for taking care of Kya, had I not looked into those big blue eyes and realized that I had a responsibility to her. She’s gotten me through some of the worst times of my life. And she’s celebrated in the joys that I’ve been lucky enough to experience. I’ve taught my dog a lot of fancy tricks, but the things she taught me are so much more profound.

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