Graphica — the Husky who taught me to cherish the moment

She was a beautiful Husky, full of life. The kind of dog who walked into a room — or a dog park — and you just felt it.

Graphica could be aloof sometimes. A little distant, a little above it all, in that classic Husky way. But underneath that coolness was something warm and fuzzy, something that only showed itself in the right moments.

One of those moments happened every week at the Husky Hikes.

We used to drive out to a Chicago suburb where Huskies from all over would gather for group hikes. The second Graphica got out of the car and spotted the other Huskies;

She would howl with pure joy. That howl changed her completely. All her aloofness disappeared. She'd run straight into the pack, full of life, full of howling, joyful energy — so much so that some of the other, more reserved Huskies would actually back away from her. She had that much joy in her.

But my favorite memory of all was Dog Beach.

There was nothing like watching her romp through the water with the other dogs, completely carefree. No aloofness there at all — just pure, splashing joy. She'd run, swim, play, soak it all in like every second mattered.

That's the thing about Graphica. She taught me something I didn't fully understand until much later: cherish those special moments when they come. Not someday. Not when things settle down. Right then, in the water, on the hike, in the howl.

Graphica was with us for nine years before brain cancer took her. Nine years isn't long enough for a dog who brought that much joy into a life. But I carry her howl with me still — that sound of a dog who had found her people, her pack, her moment, and gave herself to it completely.

That's what Pup Ally is about, too—not waiting for someday. Loving them now, loudly, in the water, on the hike, wherever joy shows up.

— Nanette,