The morning of August 25, 1994 began with a cool breeze blowing before the summer heat of the day approached. I was preparing to take Ilya, whose litter was due in a week, and 14 year old Dajna for a short walk. They were both excited as I put them in the patio while I went inside to put on my walking shoes. I was back out the door within five minutes with two leashes in my hands and noticed that Ilya was standing with a puzzled look on her face while Dajna was trying to lick a black blob on the cement. To my surprise, I discovered this blob was moving and was the tiniest Saluki puppy I had ever seen. I quickly tore off my shirt and very quickly picked up this squirming baby and took her and Ilya into the house.

Ilya settled right in the whelping pen I had set up days before and seemed to accept the fact that we were not going for a walk. There had been only one breeding, this was her second litter and she had shown no signs whatsoever that she was going into labour, much less due to whelp. Within two hours four more puppies rolled out effortlessly. They were all very tiny but not as small as the one born on the patio. My newborns usually weigh sixteen ounces. The only male was ten ounces and was large enough to stay with Ilya full time. The three bitches were six ounces and two of those died within twenty four hours. My scale would not even register the tiny one so I used my kitchen scale and found she was four ounces, fitting in half of the palm of my hand. I had never seen such a tiny creature so perfectly formed, and so active, in my life. She wanted to live and I had to give her every chance. There was nothing wrong with her, other than being so tiny.

Ilya doted all her attention on the little male who quickly gained to normal weight. I made an incubator for the two remaining bitches and the parti girl was able, in a few weeks, to spend some time with Ilya and nurse from her but it was totally impossible for the little black blob to do so because of her size. She had such a strong sucking instinct, and I did not want her to lose that so I did not tube feed her. Instead, I gave her a specially made formula my vet suggested, drop by drop onto her tongue every thirty minutes until she could take a bottle for four weeks.

I would carefully put her in the whelping box for a few minutes while Ilya washed and cleaned her, thinking this would make some kind of a bonding between the two. In a display of affection for this tiny one, Ilya reached out her paw one evening and it came down on the tiny one's left rear hip and broke it. She was three weeks old and weighed eighteen ounces, her eyes were open and she had been the first of the three to be on her feet walking!

My vet of fifteen years was busy with an emergency worse than mine but conferred with me after an x-ray was taken. His new assistant would be able to set the leg as it was a simple break. I helped as she was in a soft cast and I brought her in every day for it to be checked. She was so active and I noticed four days later (on a Saturday evening) that she was beginning to slip out of the cast. By the time I took her in on the Monday morning, it was well below the break. A fresh cast was put on and this time they bound the gauze up and around and over both hips to keep it on.

Everything went well and within a week it was time for her cast to come off. Her leg had healed perfectly. However, we were all shocked to discover that her right hip was badly deformed because of the gauze wrap which had been used to keep the cast on. This was also the side of her body she had lain on throughout her ordeal. The constant weight of her body on the same side had damaged nerves and ligaments.

We were then referred to North Carolina State Veterinary School and it was decided to begin physical therapy on her daily, for the next six weeks. By this time, Oxanna, was six weeks old and weighed barely two pounds.

She was still on a bottle, which she did not give up until she was six months old. The only way she would eat solid food was out of my hand. I tried leaving her at NC State but she refused to eat and was put on IV's after three days. She recovered immediately when I brought her home.

We continued her daily therapy at my local vet's office so that I could be with her. There was some improvement but she was still unable to use the leg -- preferring to run about actively on three legs.

It was about this time that this little being who began life as a tiny black blob began turning into a beautiful red sable with black fringes and the most expressive dark, doe eyes -- a look that would launch a thousand ships. She had to have a name and so she became Oxanna. She continued to thrive and her world outside was the patio area where she could interact through the fence with the other Salukis. Her playmates in the house, because of her small size, were Kobe and Thi, my two Siamese cats.

After x-rays and consultations with various orthopaedic vets, I had my choice of two paths to follow with Oxanna if she were to live a normal life. One involved putting artificial joints in her hip and knee with an uncertain outcome. Would she have full use of her right leg again? The other choice was amputation, in hopes it would straighten her top line as the weight of her dead leg was pulling it down. I cannot remember when I have had such a difficult decision to make. Whatever path I chose, it had to be agreed that I would be with Oxanna every minute throughout.

On July 11th, I held this special gift Allah had entrusted to me in my arms as the long procedure of amputating her right leg began. Three hours later she woke up in my arms. I stayed with her until she came home the next afternoon. She almost jumped out of my arms to run and greet her special family. I put her down and she ran outside to her own little world with kisses for everyone through the fence. She was so glad to be home and back with her own family. Her recovery was remarkable and uneventful. I did not regret my decision, even for a minute, when I saw happy she was and how mobile she became.

When Oxanna turned a year old she was eighteen inches tall and weighed twenty pounds. She was every bit a Saluki -- only in miniature form. Many who met Oxanna have asked me many questions about her

... "Why did you let her live?" To this I can only say that from the very minute I found her on the patio, she wiggled and cried as any newborn puppy would. She was never a weakling. She wanted to live and I could not deny her that chance.

..."Does it hurt her to walk and is she in pain?" Oxanna never knew anything but three legs to walk on. She ran and played like any Saluki with games she has devised with the cats and my other Salukis. They all accepted her for what she was - a Saluki in miniature. The only time she ever expressed a feeling of pain was during the actual physical therapy and she would put her mouth over my hand and gently bite me when she was uncomfortable. She knew her limits and never seemed to overtax herself.

... "Would you do it again?" I don't know. I feel Oxanna was sent to me for a purpose. If her birth had happened a year before I would not have been able to stay at home to meet the demands of a premature puppy. I don't know if I would have a three week old puppy put in a soft cast again for a broken leg, but then how many even bother to take a puppy that age to the vet with a broken leg? We all did what we thought was best for her at the time.

To those of you who feel that it was wrong to let her live, I have only this to say to you --do not condemn until you have walked in another's shoes!

Other breeders, my vet and myself, have gone over and over what caused Ilya to go into labour a week early. I had never experienced this in my previous twenty seven years of breeding. I have never had a stillborn or lost a puppy. In this litter of five, two lived only twenty four hours and another went into seizures at eight weeks and died, the only male survived and is healthy at the time of writing.

Much has been written and discussed on the various chemicals used in the fields to grow our food and to preserve it. I live out in the country surrounded by cotton and tobacco fields. I never knew how much aerial spraying went on until I retired and was home every day. It is not supposed to hurt humans but the day before Ilya had her litter, there was spraying. A neighbour lost all the fish in her pond, several calves were born early or still born. This was all reported to the USDA but the report came back unfounded.

I feed as natural a diet as possible. I even cook all the meat and vegetables my Salukis eat, trying to avoid some of the contamination in dog food. But, I cannot filter the air we breathe.

Oxanna was Allah's very special gift to me for every moment she was with me. Sadly our journey together was cut short .......

Oxanna was so much a part of my life she went everywhere with me. If she was not welcome then I felt I was not welcome. She was a lover of everything - people, children, animals, and life itself and she lived each day to its fullest. Mealtime was a very special time for us as she would sit at my feet under the table while I had my meal and we could carry on our conversations to each other.

The morning of April 16, 2002 was a lovely spring morning. The air was fresh with the smell of the Wisteria in bloom. Oxanna and I had just settled down for our breakfast and were chatting away. She let out a scream that I have never heard from any living creature in my life. I dropped to her side and clutched her limp body in my arms next to my heart. My Oxanna was gone. It was so quick. It was so sudden. There was no warning. My Oxanna had left me. I truly thought my life had ended. Oh God how can my life go on with out My Oxanna?

My life has gone on and only because Oxanna is with me every day in Spirit. I see her everywhere ....and the message on my answering machine...well it has never been changed and it never will... for Oxanna is still with me - only in Spirit."