My first love(s)

I have loved dogs all my life. My childhood was filled with several different four-legged friends. The first was an all-American mutt named Jiff. I don't remember much about him except that he had a second home he would run to every time he got loose. As soon as we noticed he was gone, we would call the nice old woman who lived there and warn her to keep an eye out for him. When he inevitably showed up, she would let us know. Our next dog was Maggie, a Golden Retriever bought for my oldest sister. She became one of my closest friends. I remember working with her on her obedience 'homework' and playing for hours in the snow. She had free rein to roam around our property and once she brought my sisters and I a gift, a tiny newborn rabbit, so young it didn't have any fur. She had tried to be gentle, but you could see in her eyes that she knew it was hurt. Those eyes pleaded with us to help; however, there was nothing we could do. She had an odd appetite that included barbie dolls, fiberglass insulation, and tulip bulbs. One Easter Sunday, she devoured the contents of both my sister's baskets, including the fake grass. She was a devoted and loving dog.

The next was Catie, a Scottie Terrier mix who was slightly aloof, but always loads of fun to chase around the yard. 

Then there was Kiska, the first dog officially known as my dog. The only dog we owned who had papers, her full name was Kamchatka's Princess Kiska. She was a beautiful silver color with one brown eye and one blue. She was the closest friend I had, lending a never-ending ear, listening to all my teenage angst and worries while we took long walks through the woods. When I started college, my mother moved from the country home where I grew up to a house in the city. Because I wasn't going to be around much and because my mother felt it wouldn't be fair to take her from a large yard to the small lot houses in town sit on, we made the difficult decision to find her a new family. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I know in my heart it was the best decision for her and I think we found a good home for her. 
A few years later, I moved over 1200 miles away to Florida and my life was void of the devotion only a dog can give. It would be ten years before that empty spot would be filled and it would be the first time my stereotypical view of dogs would be challenged.