December 1st 2014 Kal and I were heading down the mountain and into town for appointments and supplies. This morning had began like many others, grey and misty and depending on your mood, dreary or full of promise. At the bottom of the drive and out from behind a sand pile appeared this large black dog all eyes and ears, curiously yet timidly exploring the ground he walked upon. He crossed in front of the car, turned and stared back, stock still. I stepped from the car and called to him. 3 times he came to me, At which point where I realized he was not heading home, nor knew where he was. I had a decision to make, leave the dog and continue on my way or open the door to… There was just something in that face. I opened the car door and in he hoped. Through the next week he settled deeper into our lives and settled more deeply into his own skin, finding comfort in his blanket, discovering the intrigues of chewing on antlers and peanut butter stuffed bones, tugging on ropes and catching um shredding balls. Freya, our existing husky companion and him struck an immediate bond, becoming fast friends.
In the mean time Kal and I sought to find his rightful owners, all the while silently, quietly falling for him and his wild energetic spirit, his soulful brown eyes, extreme loyalty and earnest snuggling. We called every where reporting this lovely found dog, several responses later on a posted add with Craigslist turned up his owner. We braced, we knew this day might come. And to be honest, in the beginning we were hoping for it, as another dog while we were in the middle of trying to build our house and still living in the tiny one was a daunting idea. The gentle man who found us told us he had rescued the dog 2 months previous when the lady who had owned him had a stroke and could no longer care for him. The person in question lived near by, same street in fact, was also an Iraq vet, who trained dogs to be handlers for PTSD service members. This gentleman had agreed to keep the dog until he could find the dog the right family. His response to me was, of course he can stay, he chose you. He is a 14 month old Shepherd, now named Moose. (previous name was Beast – which he has not responded to since he arrived)
Many will ask how he came by his name Moose.
Well in short, he choose his name, just like he choose his family. One day he was being a big galumph while playing in the mud and up he came with a large brown nose and I laughed and called him a big moose and he cocked his head and immediately came over and sat by my side, stared up at me and rested his head against my hip – yes he’s that tall. Moose??!!!! I snickered, what a rather undignified name for such a regal majestic creature. In the back of my head I heard a snicker, this time not mine – spirit sayed… “undignified?! maybe you should look again…“ Thus urged, I proceeded to look up the meanings associated with Moose and here is what I found:
A regal majestic creature based in the “primal feminine and the magic of life and death” (Moose Dog came towards me out of the deep west) . Time of strength, late fall early winter (Moose Dog was born in the time of Samhain ‘13) It is said that when it appears it is a “special sacred gift” and that “its appearance of ungainliness is misleading and deceptive”. That “Moose aligns with an individual” – as opposed to an individual aligning with Moose. (He choose us first, we just accepted. )
Shortly after that, I was talking with my mother on the phone, describing him and his personality, Moose!!! She cried, and there you have it, with a Grandmother’s approval how could you go wrong? =)