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Angel Of Hashimoto
I was 5 years old when I first met Hashi. My stepfather brought him home from someone associated with the Navy, who couldn't take him with them.
I had never before seen such a well groomed and beautifully cared for dog, and wouldn't again until going with my schoolmate Kimberly to an International Dog Show in Hawaii several years later.
Angel of Hashimoto was his title, although the complete title was much longer.
As if he completely understood every word of English, he sat next to my dad and waited for me to get home.
We were living in a Japanese Diplomat's summer cottage, at the end of a long gravel road. The very last house on the road that only had homes every so often on the left. The right side of the road was wild forest so thick you couldn't see more than a few feet in.
Hashi was so excited, he could hardly contain himself! He was warned by my dad to take it easy, but in his excitement (up on his hindquarters he stood taller than me) of wagging, whimpering and licking, he knocked me down. This happened repeatedly and I would end up crying as Hashi would lick me face continuously while standing over me. Initially it was funny, cute, and playful but I soon realized that I had no experience at being even a bit forceful or commanding and much like being tickled until you cried...the same would happen every time I saw him.
He was soft, warm, had a flowing white and caramel colored coat, and a very large, beautifully braided, colorful Japanese rope leash with a big knot on the end for the handle.
He was able to be shipped to Chula Vista, California when we had to move there.
I wish we were still in Japan sometimes.
He was kept in the parched, arrid, hot back yard that had a tiny peach tree plopped in the middle of all the dead grass.
A small concrete area outside the back door with a few steps, led to a cemented area where one could barbeque, but that's where his food, water and doghouse were.
It was one of my "chores" to venture out into the back yard daily, after school to find and collect any feces, dig a hole in the corner of the yard, close to the fence and bury it there with a shovel.
We played house, and I even pretended to have puppies once after crawling into his doghouse. I would make puppy sounds, pretending to have a litter and he would nervously pace back and forth outside his doghouse, making worrying sounds and piking his head in every so often.
When we first moved in, before Hashi even arrived we discovered a huge sand flea infestation. Just walking into the house, our ankles were covered by sand fleas. Apparently, the very large tree stump that had been pulled up in the front yard (I would have rather had the tree!) unearthed a nasty nest of sand fleas. Fumigation was done, with the giant Circus tent looking ballon that covered the house while it was gassed.
The Browns lived next door, and used one of their bicycles to teach me to ride a bike when I was in 3rd grade. I had no bicycle or knew how to ride which was awkward for a 3rd grader. The two daughters both older than I was by a few years, were kind enough to teach me after having a good laugh.
They had a lemon tree in their back yard.
It was at least 2 or 3 years after we moved again, before I would see my Angel of Hashimoto once more. My stepfather had given him to his sister and her husband and kids in Arizona, and I was so excited to see Hashi again...and very hopeful that he would at the very least remember me.
What I found after we finally went over to their home on a visit one night, broke my heart. Made me angry, and I will never forget.
When I made my way out to their back yard and called to him, he didn't even raise his head. There were a couple of very weary wags of his once beautiful, and long tail. But, nothing else. He seemed forever fixated on a far away place somewhere behind his eyes. I immediately knew something was very wrong.
His spirit seemed dead. His eyes never met mine. He simply lay there, waiting for death.
Even now my heart aches and it brings tears to my eyes for what was done so wrongly to that beautiful soul.
He barely had but maybe 5 feet of tether. A bowl near an outdoor water faucet, on a piece of concrete that held barely any water...he was broken. My heart felt as though it would bleed from my chest.
He didn't remember me, or at least refused to and had no playfulness whatsoever, only lay there staring behind his eyes at some distant memory I could only hope...
I went back into their house, demanding to know what they had done to him?! I was only met with scolding from my stepfather, and told to shut my mouth. Told to be grateful that he was alive.
I don't think this is any kind of "life", and is only suffering.
They were of the mentality of owning a farm dog. I was told that dogs were to be kept outdoors. That was it. To be grateful that someone was willing to take him in.
I honestly think it would have been better to leave him in Japan, or have him put down.
He was such a bright, beautiful, happy dog who was so intelligent once. Kind, patient, understanding, and loyal.
Whatever my stepdads sister, her husband and family had done to him was a criminal!
My dearest Angel of Hashimoto, how I wish for Peace and Contentment for you. How I feel such deep sorrow for your losses. How I have missed you, and how deeply I regret that I was only such a small child and could do nothing to protect you. If I only would have known, I could have set you free...at least with the hope that you could find another family to care for you...please never forget me Hashi!
I hope that you are now at rest and happy forever after.
I will never forget you my dearest Angel of Hashimoto.
I love you still, and always will.
© All Rights Reserved
I had never before seen such a well groomed and beautifully cared for dog, and wouldn't again until going with my schoolmate Kimberly to an International Dog Show in Hawaii several years later.
Angel of Hashimoto was his title, although the complete title was much longer.
As if he completely understood every word of English, he sat next to my dad and waited for me to get home.
We were living in a Japanese Diplomat's summer cottage, at the end of a long gravel road. The very last house on the road that only had homes every so often on the left. The right side of the road was wild forest so thick you couldn't see more than a few feet in.
Hashi was so excited, he could hardly contain himself! He was warned by my dad to take it easy, but in his excitement (up on his hindquarters he stood taller than me) of wagging, whimpering and licking, he knocked me down. This happened repeatedly and I would end up crying as Hashi would lick me face continuously while standing over me. Initially it was funny, cute, and playful but I soon realized that I had no experience at being even a bit forceful or commanding and much like being tickled until you cried...the same would happen every time I saw him.
He was soft, warm, had a flowing white and caramel colored coat, and a very large, beautifully braided, colorful Japanese rope leash with a big knot on the end for the handle.
He was able to be shipped to Chula Vista, California when we had to move there.
I wish we were still in Japan sometimes.
He was kept in the parched, arrid, hot back yard that had a tiny peach tree plopped in the middle of all the dead grass.
A small concrete area outside the back door with a few steps, led to a cemented area where one could barbeque, but that's where his food, water and doghouse were.
It was one of my "chores" to venture out into the back yard daily, after school to find and collect any feces, dig a hole in the corner of the yard, close to the fence and bury it there with a shovel.
We played house, and I even pretended to have puppies once after crawling into his doghouse. I would make puppy sounds, pretending to have a litter and he would nervously pace back and forth outside his doghouse, making worrying sounds and piking his head in every so often.
When we first moved in, before Hashi even arrived we discovered a huge sand flea infestation. Just walking into the house, our ankles were covered by sand fleas. Apparently, the very large tree stump that had been pulled up in the front yard (I would have rather had the tree!) unearthed a nasty nest of sand fleas. Fumigation was done, with the giant Circus tent looking ballon that covered the house while it was gassed.
The Browns lived next door, and used one of their bicycles to teach me to ride a bike when I was in 3rd grade. I had no bicycle or knew how to ride which was awkward for a 3rd grader. The two daughters both older than I was by a few years, were kind enough to teach me after having a good laugh.
They had a lemon tree in their back yard.
It was at least 2 or 3 years after we moved again, before I would see my Angel of Hashimoto once more. My stepfather had given him to his sister and her husband and kids in Arizona, and I was so excited to see Hashi again...and very hopeful that he would at the very least remember me.
What I found after we finally went over to their home on a visit one night, broke my heart. Made me angry, and I will never forget.
When I made my way out to their back yard and called to him, he didn't even raise his head. There were a couple of very weary wags of his once beautiful, and long tail. But, nothing else. He seemed forever fixated on a far away place somewhere behind his eyes. I immediately knew something was very wrong.
His spirit seemed dead. His eyes never met mine. He simply lay there, waiting for death.
Even now my heart aches and it brings tears to my eyes for what was done so wrongly to that beautiful soul.
He barely had but maybe 5 feet of tether. A bowl near an outdoor water faucet, on a piece of concrete that held barely any water...he was broken. My heart felt as though it would bleed from my chest.
He didn't remember me, or at least refused to and had no playfulness whatsoever, only lay there staring behind his eyes at some distant memory I could only hope...
I went back into their house, demanding to know what they had done to him?! I was only met with scolding from my stepfather, and told to shut my mouth. Told to be grateful that he was alive.
I don't think this is any kind of "life", and is only suffering.
They were of the mentality of owning a farm dog. I was told that dogs were to be kept outdoors. That was it. To be grateful that someone was willing to take him in.
I honestly think it would have been better to leave him in Japan, or have him put down.
He was such a bright, beautiful, happy dog who was so intelligent once. Kind, patient, understanding, and loyal.
Whatever my stepdads sister, her husband and family had done to him was a criminal!
My dearest Angel of Hashimoto, how I wish for Peace and Contentment for you. How I feel such deep sorrow for your losses. How I have missed you, and how deeply I regret that I was only such a small child and could do nothing to protect you. If I only would have known, I could have set you free...at least with the hope that you could find another family to care for you...please never forget me Hashi!
I hope that you are now at rest and happy forever after.
I will never forget you my dearest Angel of Hashimoto.
I love you still, and always will.
© All Rights Reserved
