In early 2000, when I was starting Blyss Kennels and buying our borzoi, I came across a lot of information on the internet by dog breeders about their kennels and breeding programs. They were full of beautiful photographs, articles from dog publications, pedigrees, and stories about foundation bitches, stud dog, and breed history. Some of the best websites I ever saw were done for dog kennels. I recall seeing one on Irish Wolfhound that surpassed anything I have ever seen. There were others, and then there was one that was utterly fantastic, by the Alaskan Malamute breeder, D. Harobed. One of the most beautiful pieces of writing I have ever read anywhere by anyone was written by D. Harobed and posted for a while on the website. I saved it among my saved documents. Sometime later, I looked for it again online and could not find it; it had been taken down. I was glad I had saved it in a file and still had it readily available to peruse. I Googled D Harobed and she/he (although I believe it was a woman) could not be found. Any sign of the kennel has disappeared, and I am very sad and sorry about that. I had and still do have complete respect for this person and the amazing website they created with pictures of the magnificent Mals. My family owned one in the distant past, so the website interested me for nostalgic reasons as well, but the pictures and the loving words were unforgettable. I am going to reproduce the beautiful poem that moved me so long ago, insisting I am not anywhere near as good a writer as this person, D. Harobed, and could never have written it, and I bow in total respect to this writer and hope they do not mind if I reproduce their poem here in Blyss Blog that touched my heart so deeply. If anyone reading this Blog knows anything about D. Harobed and the Alaskan Malamutes, please let me know how I may reach them or what befell them to make them take down their website. The poem follows:
I search for him anew…..
I search for him anew in each new litter of pups. He is present in my greatest joys and deepest sorrows, always a memory in my mind. And sometimes when the wind rises on an autumn day or when the air is full of promises of snow, sometimes then, I feel him near. In this moment, memory and senses in accord, reminiscences blend and time has no meaning. The wind lingers in my presence, inviting me to share a secret, somewhere out of time. This young precocious breeze, just a whisper when we met before, has grown into a sturdy winter wind. He is with me, as real as the winter snow that blends with the tears upon my face. And it is only when I try to touch him, to make him linger yet awhile, that He dies all over again – a snowflake in my hand. He is like a fragment of melody that I find myself humming unawares. Evasive and elusive, a song without words, a song with no end. While somewhere else, as I say goodbye again, as shadows of my shadow pass before me, somewhere else a Mal leaps to the top of her kennel to greet the morning sun. Another stretches beyond him length and howls, harmonic with the world. My memory of him lives on forever in those she left behind.
Harobed Alaskan Malamutes