Pancreatitis. Kidneys off the charts, liver off the charts, blood sugar off the charts. The vet thought it was colitis and it didn't get better and then he was in the emergency hospital for thousands of dollars and they still couldn't say what was wrong, or why this was happening.

My dogs never walk off-leash, and even when they are on the fenced patio area, I am with them. I know he didn't eat anything bad. There is no antifreeze on the entire property, no chocolate, no grapes, no raisins.

The X-ray looked "weird" according to the vet, but she couldn't be specific. The ultrasound showed no tumors, no abcesses.

I was so confused, I couldn't even figure out what to do! But I did know I was not going to have my beloved euthanized in a clinic room. I know it can be done at home, and if they said that they just couldn't help him, I would be taking him home. In Haiti dogs are not euthanized and it is considered an evil act, akin to murder, to do so. I decided that if he was not suffering, if he was going to die peacefully, he would die in my arms. But I so much wanted him to live!

He and his beautiful golden, dark eyed mate Ti-Choune had a litter, and I have one male puppy from that litter, Ti-Fritz.

Ti-Koupa lived an incredible life. Rescued from a vetiver hedge where he was abandoned by his mother (when she moved her litter he got forgotten, I guess), he was saved by Loulou Prince, our internationally known traditional herbalist, who then gave him to me. I gave him meat and milk and tons of love, and vaccinations and worm medicine that no Haitian dog ever gets.

He grew up romping through dewy pastures in the mornings, walking with me as I cared for my horses, my goats and my cows. He ate fresh, clean meat. He played with the other dogs. Because I am a Mambo, a priestess of the Vodou religion, he got famous for being the Mambo's dog, the Mambo's dog that could shake hands and dance and lie down on command, the Mambo's dog who was clocked at 35 mph on the airfield, running against a motorcycle, the Mambo's dog who figured out how to chase away trespassing horses by picking up coconut fronds in his mouth and charging the horses with it.

When an insane criminal set fire to my house because he wanted to "kill all the white people", Ti-Koupa was inside! I crawled through the burning rooms on my belly and brought him out, and he nearly died, he was desperately sick, and there was no vet nearby. The one in Port-au-Prince prescribed human medications on the telephone, and I found a pharmacy that had them, and I bought them and dosed him and he lived until eight days later he pooped what looked and smelled like a pile of asphalt, and then he recovered. He was so brave!

When I left Haiti I couldn't leave him behind. I figured out every detail of the importation process, the airlines, Customs, vaccination records, everything. I bought a cage and I bought his plane ticket, and brought him to the USA. I kept careful watch on him so that my father, with whom I visited on my return, didn't accidentally let him out. When I went looking for apartments I took him with me.

We lived in an apartment for about two years. Every school day, rain or shine or snow, I was up at 4:30 walking him so that he wouldn't pee while I was out. As fast as I got home, we were out again, for hours if weather permitted. Summertimes were the best! We practically lived in nature preserves. I bought a house on the side of Mt. Tom, really for him, so he could have females and so he could live in a place where we just leash up and go out the back door into the woods! Once I had the house, I brought him two wives from Haiti.

Ti-Koupa often spoke, he said, "Razzmatazz" one day, and he said "No, no". He could cuss, he would say "Lollum, lollum" in that snarly tone - that's a dog curse word, it means, "Two legs, you walk on two legs, two legs." He kissed me when we sat in grassy clearings in the sun, I gave him his water and he drank and kissed me. He would wait on the floor obediently until I fell asleep and then he would sneak in the bed with me unless it was too warm, and then he slept beside the bed, on the floor. Recently he was evicted for a while by Ti-Choune and her puppies, and he ceded his place without complaint until the puppies were gone, except his one son, and then he reclaimed the bed.

When his wife Ti-Choune was old enough I let them mate, and they produced a beautiful litter, and little Ti-Fritz is mine. I looked forward to grassy pastures with father and son this summer... but now that will never be.

I gave him the very best of everything, including huge unlimited quantities of love and affection. I never once hit him. I fed him the best, cared for him the best, brushed him and loved him and bathed him and caressed him the best. Even when we went walking in the woods I respected his inclinations, he smelled what he wanted, we walked where he wanted. I love him so very much.

I wanted years, years more with him. But beautiful Ti-Koupa, heart of my heart, beloved of mine, left this world last night, February 19, 2010

I thought he would survive, when I brought him home from the hospital. They wanted me to kill him, right there! I told them, "He wants to go home, and HE CAN HAVE ANYTHING HE WANTS! If I have to help him die, it will happen at home, not here." And I took him home.

He was so happy! He was relieved to see his mate, his son, his bed, his own things. He rallied, he walked up and down the house, he drank water, he went outside and made his peepee. I thought he might live. He lay down in his kennel for a while, he always loved his kennel because I never locked him in, it was just a friendly cave-space where he could go.

Then he got up, and lay down in the kitchen, and suddenly he stood, and crashed to the ground. I saw that the end was very near, so I picked him up and carried him to my bed, and lay down with him in my arms. His breathing was difficult but he was not in pain.

I told him over and over about the love in my heart for him, I told him that I know how much he loves me, that I know he knows how much I love him. He didn't want to die! He wrapped his front paws around my arm and held on, and his eyes were full of sorrow and disappointment. I told him again and again that it wasn't his fault, that he could go, and as his beathing became less and less, four angels of yellow light came and stood at the four corners of the bed. He saw them! He knew he had no chance to live, and he rested his head on my arm and I held him and caressed him, until finally he gave one big, deep sigh, and he was gone.

My tears are a river and they will never, ever be enough. I've had many, many dogs but none like Ti-Koupa. He would have been seven years old this June. I was not expecting to lose him so soon, I thought we would have more years together, more summers in the sunny grass and the shady trails.

I will bury him today, if I can dig a hole in the winter earth. My beloved is gone from me.