Remembering Shaka Roo Boy

Shaka Roo Boy
(born 6/1/95 - died 9/16/09)

Named after the King of the Zulus, Shaka came to us via the local shelter. He had been turned in as a 2 year old dog, because he "barked too much" and "shed too much".  All I can say is the previous owner didn't really know Siberian Huskies very well. Shaka wasn't a full bred, he had some mix in him, and his coat was pretty thin compared to a full Siberian. Twice a year he would blow his coat and it was pretty minor compared to the rest of the crew. Unlike the others, he loved to be groomed, so I would brush him several times a week, not really getting anything off him. Of course it could have been the biscuit treat at the end he really loved.

And that barking issue? Once he moved in with Nikita and Saber, he became the silent dog, never barking, only occasionally softly whining when he wanted something.

Sez Nikita, I'm just laughing with you,
not at you :)

We got Shaka because we had lost Bandit, our "starter husky", to liver cancer earlier. Shaka moved right in, full of piss and vinegar, looking to be the pack alpha. Unfortunately to show everybody who's boss, he picked a fight with Saber, our Zen Master. Saber always seemed to be just visiting from another astral plane, gracing us with his presence. He never was interested in the whole pack hierarchical structure idea. Didn't want the job, didn't want to be a follower, just wanted to be left alone. But just because he didn't want to be the Alpha meant that he was a pushover.

When Shaka came into the office strutting his alpha stuff, he took offense to Saber ignoring him. "Time to teach that punk a lesson!" said Shaka.  It didn't work out too well for Shaka. The cone collar came off a week later.

However an understanding was achieved: Shaka was the boss and Saber would pretend that was true. Dog harmony ruled.

Nikita had no problem with Shaka being the boss, she started sucking up to him immediately, always licking his jaws and showing respect. They became "Best Friends Forever", playing and also getting in trouble together the rest of their lives.

Within 1 week of joining us, we found Shaka had some skills they didn't tell us about at the shelter, namely he was an accomplished lock picker. By now, we were experienced Siberian owners, well acquainted with their escape artistry. Our yard had a 6 foot fence, reinforced with concrete rebar and wire netting below the fence and a 3Kv hotwire on the top.

One day I get a call from a panicked homeowner several miles away. Seems Shaka and Nikita has burst into their farm area and were attacking their goats. I ran outside to find my fence gate wide open and the dogs long gone. I managed to get them back later but they had killed several goats. The farm owner had called the police and with getting the dogs I also got a citation. Restitution and vet bills to the goat's owner was over a thousand dollars. My $25 "dogs at loose" fine, ballooned to over $150 after "court fees" were added in. A sober lesson in Siberian ownership indeed.

But how did the dogs get loose? I put Shaka back in the yard, but on a lead. I went back into the house but when I came out 5 minutes later the gate was open and he was outside again, but restrained by the leash, otherwise he'd be gone again.  WTF?

A husky denied; gate locked and clipped. Still husky proof after 10 years.

I put him back in the yard, closed the fence gate and went back inside. This time I stayed out of sight and watched. Shaka headed right back to the gate. He jumped up and deliberately smacked the gate latch with his paw. After about 5 tries he succeeded in popping it free. He nosed the gate open and headed up the driveway, only to be brought up short by the leash. Damn he was good! That gate had withstood the previous 3 Siberian's attentions. Needless to say, he was placed in his crate, while the gate latch was replaced with one that required human fingers to open along with a snap link through the hole. It made the gate much less easy to use, but Shaka wasn't going through that gate anymore unless invited.


Shaka was an energetic dog as young Sibes typically are. He had a very distinctive bounce in his walk, which he kept all the way to the end. We nicknamed him Shaka Roo or Roo Boy, as he reminded us of a kangaroo.

Shaka became my trail running partner, running with me for miles through the woods of Fair Hill and White Clay Creek. He partnered with me for years, until a snow covered hole ended my running days. After that he was always up for hikes with the rest of the pack.







Our first winter together, we decided to put some of that energy to use. The PA Sled Dog Club was holding a winter meet at Fair Hill Nature Area just a few miles from us. Sibes and Alaskan Huskies were pulling wheeled sleds and bikes (no snow yet) with great intensity. One of the events was a weight pull. This was open to anybody who wished to try.

A dog was hooked up to a sled with wooden runners weighing about 200 lbs. When the clock started the dog would have about 30 seconds to pull the sled 10 meters. No helping was allowed, just verbal encouragement to the dog. If the dog finished a heat, 50 lbs of sand were added to the sled and another run was started.

Maggie and I entered Shaka and he did us proud. With no experience he managed several pulls, ending with a max weight of 650 lbs.



 After that, Shaka retired from the weight pulling circuit and devoted his attention to competitive eating. While Nikita liked food, she wasn't obsessed about it. Saber, remember, was just visiting from another planet, and would go for a day or two without eating, remaining skinny all his life. Shaka on the other hand, lived for food. From a sleeping state 100 feet away and upstairs, he could hear the sound of food wrapper being opened. One minute, far away and asleep, the next right beside you. Silent as usual, no pawing or nose poking, he still was impossible to ignore, and truth be told, had a pretty good success ratio. He went from his slim and active 45-50 lbs when young, to 75 lbs in his later years. This led to low-cal food and portion control. Not a happy development as far as he was concerned. As soon as the bowl hit the floor, he was head down and focused, sucking it clean in 30-45 seconds. If Shaka wasn't hoovering his dinner, it was a sign to head to the vets as something was wrong.

Speaking of vets, he was the comeback kid. When he was about 8, he started having trouble eating, and his breath really stank. I took him to my vet which was just next door to where I worked at that time. The report from the doc wasn't good. There were black lesions on his tongue. The doc said he had throat and tongue cancer and gave him just a few weeks to months to live. That was a blow to us. He was a sweet dog and we were heartbroken.

Our vet in the meantime, had sent a biopsy to the University of Penn Animal Hospital in Philly. He called us up several days later with the news that it wasn't cancer, but a rare inflection that only Siberian Huskies get, and best of all, it was treatable with steroids. Within a week, Shaka was back to his normal self and polishing the food bowls clean. Over the course of his life, this condition would reappear every 12-18 months. A dose of steroids and he'd be cured.

Shaka and Saber 'improve' our backyard landscaping ...

As Shaka aged, he started slowing down. Bailey joined the household when Saber and Nikita died. Shaka had been the alpha of the pack and didn't take too kindly to Bailey. Bailey was a year and half old, fresh from rescue, where she had been placed after being out of control. Bailey was (and still is) very hyper and barely in control.

Uh oh, Alpha dog challenge coming up ...

Alpha dog challenge aftermath

Several fights later, Bailey was firmly in control of the pack, and Shaka was once again wearing a cone collar. Shaka really was a lover, not a fighter. He always seemed to bear the brunt of any fights. Upon his retirement as Alpha, he devoted his time to digging holes in the yard, sleeping and eating.
When he reached 12 or so, he started begging off the morning walks, only going occasionally. However, walk or no walk, that didn't exempt me from giving him the post walk biscuit. After all, he went with us in spirit.

About 6 months ago, he seemed to be getting slower and slower. Harder to get up and down the stairs. I figured the Rainbow Bridge was calling. One day, the side of his face swelled up like a balloon. I imagined that he and Bailey must gotten into a tussle and it was infected. He also was having trouble eating and swallowing just before this.  A trip to the vet brought some bad news again. Once again, the diagnosis was most likely throat cancer.  Maybe a few weeks, said the vet. He prescribed some pills that should help reduce the swelling.

Shaka was almost 14 at this point. My concern was for his quality of life and nothing else. It looked like his time was coming soon. Surprisingly, a week later on the pills and his face had returned to normal. Since he was having trouble swallowing his food, I started him on wet food.

Praise the Lord! said Shaka. I've been eating dry kibble all these years and only NOW I get this?

Stuffing the young Coyote into a hole while playing

Within a few weeks he was a totally different dog. Perkier, doing the Roo bounce when he walked. He started going with Bailey and Coyote on our walks. And even joined in the younger dogs play sessions. He lived for the breakfast and dinner feedings. Typically I feed the dogs around 7. By 4pm, Shaka would be just outside the office, not saying anything but keeping an eye on me, "just in case you want to feed me now".

Once I pulled the can opener out of the drawer, our formerly quiet all his life dog, became one loud talking and barking dog. Letting me know that I was taking way too much time in spooning that food out. And the talking didn't stop until that bowl was down on the ground.


The last 6 months of his life, Shaka was one contented dog. Wet food feedings, plenty of scratches and belly rubbing. Even playtimes with Coyote who always respected him. He had his favorite spot to sleep right next to my bed. Bailey and Coyote have my hours, heading to bed around 10pm. Shaka would stay up with Maggie, probably getting some more treats - I didn't ask - and an hour or so later, he'd be at the gate softly whining to be let in to settle in his spot.

The day of his passing he had a nice good breakfast, spent several hours snoozing in the office with me at work, and licked my lunch plate clean of lasagna. He then headed back to his spot at the side of bed to snooze. Several hours later he had a heart attack in his sleep and was gone in a few minutes at the age of 14.

A good life with family and his pack, lots (definitely lots) of food eaten, plenty of holes dug and long walks taken, and lots of love given and received. A wonderful quality of life until the very last. What more can one ask for?

Snoozing in the office after lunch

See you over the bridge buddy, we'll miss you.