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 Every morning that I am not out hunting, I enjoy my quiet time before work with a cup of hot black coffee. I usually just put one heaping teaspoon of pure white sugar. I just love the way the sweet hits the bitter and warms the body quickly. I take this time to reflect and prepare for the day. My backyard view is of the mighty Missouri River. I stare and sip my coffee with my dog, Kota, by my side and absorb the natural beauty coming alive before me with the sunrise. She sits her head heavy on my leg. The river flows wild and free. The sun shines across the blue rippling water and lights up the Nebraska bluffs on the other side of the water. It is so peaceful and the perfect start to any day.
Today though is different. My heart aches and my body is tired. I sit alone with my cup of coffee. I just returned from a memorable hunting trip in southern Kansas. I spent three days hunting the Neosho River during their late duck season. However, the last day Kota, was growing ill and fast. She had not been feeling well prior, however she had been put on some antibiotics which seemed to make her feel better. I made the call to rush her to a friend’s veterinary clinic there in Kansas. Her breathing was heavy and you could tell she was growing faint. After doing several tests, the only other option was surgery to try to locate the unidentifiable problem. She was a risk to do surgery on because of her breathing. Scared and bawling, I tried to keep my cool. I kept petting her head as she lay on the table hooked up on an IV bag. I kept praying and asking her to be strong enough to hold on. The nutrients from the IV bag were helping. She had her head up and was wagging her tail for a few short times and looked up at me. It made me smile and made me feel a strong sweep of hope as the tears continued to roll down my face.
Just as we needed to make the decision of what to do, I decided I would drive her to either Iowa State University or Kansas City as an emergency, but just as those words came out of my lips, Kota quit breathing and flat lined before me. They revived her, but she was barely holding on. She was struggling to breathe and she flat lined once again. After reviving her for a second time the only other option was to put her down or begin to attempt anesthetic in hopes of her taking it on. If she was strong enough to take the anesthetic on there was a chance to be able to open her up. Either way, she would feel no pain at this point. They began to administer the anesthetic and she did not make it. She gave up her fight. No more pain, no more suffering.
As I left Kansas, a piece of my heart was missing. My best friend, my hunting partner, was gone. I completely fell apart. I felt like I had failed her. Kota was only two and a half years old. Too young, it was just unfair. I was angry and upset with God and did not understand why he would do this to me.
This wonderful dog had been with me through so many tough and uplifting times the past couple of years. She was always with me, by my side. She was a well known dog because I did a lot of youth events and dog training seminars and she was the perfect dog for everyone to learn from. Kota just loved people and people just loved her, too. She had traveled and hunted with me so many places in such a short time. She was my companion. It was a pleasure and an honor to watch her grow up and accomplish so much in her short life. Kota’s first retrieve was a Wood duck in my folk’s slough in Minnesota, where I shot my first duck when I was a little girl. Her first retrieved band was on a Ross’s goose during the Snow Goose Conservation Order in the spring. Her first 300 yard blind retrieve was amazing during early goose season in South Dakota. I know my father loved shooting countless roosters over her back home. She had a goofy obsession with stinky socks. She would spin multiple 360 circles before doing her business outside. She would bark only in her sleep with her mouth closed. It sounded like an extremely loud water faucet dripping. It would always wake me up in the middle of the night, but it would make me laugh so hard my stomach would hurt. She never broke, she never whined and she loved hunting as much as I did. When no one else wanted to go hunting, she was always there, ready to go. Beyond all of these wonderful things about her I will always remember, Kota brought me so much joy and unconditional love. I miss her so much and I will never forget all of the wonderful memories we made together. It is tragic that something so wonderful, that when you know you hold her in your arms at a young age as a puppy, she will grow up and be taken away from you someday. The way Kota touched my heart and soul can never be explained in words. I know how strong my emotions are and it has been a struggle to comprehend the loss that I am feeling today.
Beyond all of those things, Kota has made me realize one thing I can share with everyone today: Life is too short. We must indulge in what makes us truly happy because there is no substitute. Today my cup of black coffee is different, without Kota by my side. I started to use an artificial sweetener in my coffee trying to be more “health conscious” a little while ago. It just tasted horrible in my coffee, but I still drank it that way. Today, I put my heaping teaspoon of real white sugar in my black coffee. It tastes so much better and I will never settle for anything different. There is no substitute for sugar that is so sweet and pleasing to the taste. There is no substitute to a great hunting dog that captivates you with their love, desire, dedication, and personality. Kota left a huge imprint on my heart and life. Thank you, Kota for all the memories. I will love you forever, and shall never forget you. You will always be by my side, in spirit and soul.
 Author’s Note: After Kota’s passing an autopsy was performed. Kota was found to have a rare case of blastomyosis. It is a microscopic fungal spore bacteria that is inhaled or can be transmitted through an open wound or sore. It can be found typically in river valleys or other waterways like sloughs and lakes. Her infection was primarily in her lungs. I want to educate more people on blastomyosis who run hunting dogs. There are treatments available for blasto if it is diagnosed properly. Kota was diagnosed twice from two different facilities with a general infection that was treated with antibiotics. She also had several tests ran and I even had her tested for EIC (Exercise Induced Collapse) which came back negative. I was so frustrated and scared I made the appointment to Iowa State University to internal medicine. Kota passed away two days before her scheduled appointment there. I feel a lot of anger towards myself and the clinics we attended. I just hope that from my horrible and heartbreaking experience that I can help educate others to looking at blasto as an option when symptoms first arise. Kota’s ashes will be scattered in the Missouri River where we hunted together and at my folk’s slough where she retrieved her first duck.
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