It was October 1991 and I was a volunteer and board member of our local Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA). Each year we had a Saturday October festival to adopt animals, fundraise and educate the community regarding animal issues. The shelter had taken in a black female Great Dane who was having her puppies the weekend of the festival. I volunteered to foster care the female and her puppies.
Kimba came to my house on Monday her puppies were three days old. She was very thin and very scared. I had a big shed in my large back yard that we thought was a perfect whelping pen. Kimba had delivered eleven puppies; one died at birth and she laid on one. I accepted Kimba and her nine puppies with some nervousness myself. I had never been around such a large dog. During her first day with me my neighbor went to visit her and her puppies. He got between her and the puppies and received a warning bite. After Tom invaded her space Kimba only allowed me to be around her and the puppies for the first week.
I began to socialize the puppies within the first week. Each day I would bring Kimba and the puppies into the house to hold and play with each dog so that they would become accustomed to human touch and smell. Kimba watched me hold and rock the puppies with great affection. After I had continued this routine for four days. Kimba decided to make her move. I finished with the last puppies and Kimba stood up and gently crawled up onto my lap in the rocking chair and put her head on my chest where she had seen me hold the babies. She settled in with a big sigh. With tears in my eyes I called out to my husband that we�re not placing Kimba in another home. She had adopted me. I had tears streaming down my face as my husband came into the room and confirmed we had a new dog.
We kept all of the puppies until they were eight weeks old. Each puppy was adopted with great care. All perspective owners signed an agreement to get their puppy altered at 6 months of age. As each puppy went to its new home Kimba would adopt a stuffed animal or slipper from the house to take out to the whelping shed. The back yard was scattered with her new stuffed puppies. She continued to play with the fake puppies for some months after her real puppies were all gone. Quickly Kimba became my best friend. She would follow me around the house and each day let me know she had adopted me. My husband discovered that Kimba had been abused. One day he decided to play with her in the backyard and picked up a twig to throw to see if she would fetch. Kimba immediately went down on the ground flat and quivered. Jerry felt so bad and went to her and let her know he was not going to hit her with the stick.
Kimba was really my dog. As we got to know one another it appeared to me that Kimba was very attuned to my moods and would mirror my reaction to many events. One day Kimba displayed this attribute when I was having one of my most stressful moments. I came home from the hospital as my husband Jerry had been in a very serious motorcycle accident. The attendants at the hospital were taking bets on when my husband would die. I left Jerry in the hospital since there was nothing for me to do except wait for the morning and the brain surgery that was scheduled. When I arrived home I was distraught and very upset. Kimba followed me around the house as I cried and prayed that God would help my husband make it through the night. I decided to go to bed to try to sleep. When I lay down in bed I placed my body on Jerry�s side of the bed so I could smell his essence and feel his presence. Kimba laid right next to me as close as she could get to comfort me. We did not sleep much that evening but I felt such love and affection from my wonderful dog that just wanted me to feel better.
Jerry survived and an incredible relationship was forged between a dog and her owner. Kimba passed in the Fall of 1996. I mourned her death with such pain that I could not see another Great Dane without weeping. I knew that for the rest of my life I would have a Dane in my home. My love and devotion to the breed is born out of my memories of Kimba and those Danes that have followed. I adopted Patty from a breeder who no longer wanted to breed the girl. She was a wonderful addition to our home. Then there was Willie and Princess, Marcus and Grace all wonderful dogs in their own right.
Recently I was at church and the pastor presented a sermon on the Holy Spirit. He introduced a term that I had almost forgotten, the Paraclete. The Paraclete is a term used in the Bible to describe the Holy Spirit. The Paraclete comes along side and is the counsel, support and protector. As I listened to the pastor I was reminded of Kimba and the devotion and support that she gave to me. I decided then that if I was to have a kennel it would be called Paraclete Great Danes in memory of Kimba and to honor the relationship that I believe a Dane owner has with their dog.