I saw my first Akita in 1972 and the rest, as they say, is history.  I waited next to the vehicle with this gorgeous dog until the owner came out.  I said "Is this your dog?"  And the guy (a little apprehensively) said "Yep, what'd he do now?"  We chatted, "Point" got out of the truck and gave me my first experience with the aloofness of the adult male Akita, and I was hooked.   In the days before the internet, information was a little more difficult to come by, and the Akita was classified as a "rare breed" in the United States and not recognized by the AKC.  Shown in the miscellaneous class, I attended my first dog show about four months later and there were 1,500 dogs entered -- 3 of them were Akitas.  In six months, I felt I had gathered enough information and talked to enough people (and Akita people were real hard to find) and it was time to find my first Akita. 

His name was Saki and he was purchased from a breeder who had brought his dogs home following a military tour in Japan.  It was from Saki that I began to learn the basics of obedience training as Saki was my first dog.  We were at one obedience trial when he was about 9 months old and as we concluded our exercises, the judge told me that he hoped Saki was not my first Akita.  I said that he was my first dog.  He then said "Young lady, do not presume to expect another dog in your lifetime to show the intelligence and willingness to work that this dog shows.  Judging him today has been my pleasure."  I was hooked on Akitas before then, but that cinched it.  Since then there have always been at least two Akitas in my home and generally several more than that as I became involved in obedience training, showing and, of course, doing rescue work.  

Rescue was a little easier then because Akitas were relatively rare and the majority of the people who had the breed had an understanding of them.  There were fewer breeders and they tended to keep better track of their puppies and support the folks who bought dogs from them, helping educate their buyers and standing by their puppies; much as we still see reputable breeders do today.  Being rare, it was much easier to find a home for the occasional orphan and we didn’t have the large number of rescue dogs we see today because the lack of popularity made them not attractive to backyard breeders and puppy mill operators.  But I still always seemed to have an orphan or two staying with me and looking for a home.  

Then I went through a divorce and learned about rescue from the other side.  Almost overnight I had to find homes for five Akitas as I could take only three with me.  Fortunately I had many Akita friends and was able to quickly place my dogs in good homes and move forward with rebuilding my life.  During that time, my remaining three Akitas were my closest friends.  The years passed quickly and one by one their time came and passed.  When my bonded pair – (Akiras Saki CD and Ch Sherisan Ichiban Shiyawase) died less than a month apart, I was again alone.

Through a series of “curious events” I very shortly ended up with an Akita puppy from Las Vegas – Tonka, and about 3 years later came Echo, a female who looked like a carbon copy of Tonka.  Life moved on and there was generally an Akita orphan or two sharing our lives while waiting for their own forever home.   

Tonka and Echo had never been around kids much, so when I became a foster mom I knew I’d have to watch the dogs closely to ensure all of us were up to the challenge of raising a child.  My foster daughter arrived at the age of 15 months, and to say the first 15 months of her life had been difficult would be an understatement.  Kristen was born with acute spinal bifida; she had surgery when she was 2 days old but did not receive the necessary physical therapy following surgery.  At the age of 15 months, her little legs had atrophied, she could not yet sit up by herself and she had nerve damage to her right side; doctors felt it was unlikely she would ever walk.  But the worst thing was that she had not been loved and valued as a baby should be.  She was totally withdrawn and watched the world through the saddest little eyes I have ever seen.  She did not want to be held and she did not make any noise.  

This little girl was used to making herself as invisible as possible.  The first night Kris was in the house, Tonka moved into her bedroom and never moved out. This baby girl had been so badly treated that it was nearly two years before we heard her cry.  She'd learned very early if you were quiet people might not notice you, and her life had been more safe when nobody noticed her. She didn’t laugh, she didn’t cry.  She just watched the world with the eyes of a wounded doe. Which meant she would sit in a wet or dirty diaper and never make a sound; she didn't play and she wouldn't reach for anything...ever.

Forget nursery monitors.  When children don’t move and don’t make any noise, the monitor has nothing to report. When Kristen would wake up, she'd lay in bed until you went to her.  If it hadn't been for Tonka, the self-appointed Akita nanny monitoring the night shift,  I would never have known when she was awake or wet or dirty ...but that boy was the best nanny ever and he didn't tolerate his baby in wet or dirty diapers. And by golly the moment that child was awake he wanted her out of bed and on the floor where he could take care of her.  The instant her diaper was wet or dirty, he wanted it changed and he didn’t mind at all waking me in the middle of the night to change a sleeping baby’s diaper.  Clearly there would be no diaper rash on Tonka’s watch.

If there is one thing Akitas understand, it is unconditional love and unswerving loyalty.  From the first evening, Tonka was beside that child quietly letting her know she was home.  No words were exchanged, but that baby knew she was safe.  She let him inside a door that was then still closed to us.

I cannot count the nights I went in to check the baby and found her fast asleep with one little hand outside the crib firmly clenching a large Akita ear while he sat quietly waiting for her to relax so he could lay down.  Attempting to remove her little hand would elicit a warning rumble that told me very clearly Tonka had the entire situation under control and was not looking for any assistance with his baby.

Bath time was always interesting in a small bathroom with me and baby accompanied by a 120# lifeguard who monitored all activity with a seriousness that would suggest we were adrift on the Atlantic in January.  

My daughter’s little legs had atrophied because she had not gotten the PT she needed after her spinal surgery (at 2 days of age) but Tonka hadn't spoken with the experts and didn't know about atrophy, he just knew he wanted his kid moving.  Having past experience with people but none with dogs, she knew she was frightened of people and wanted nothing to do with me or Bill at first, but she bonded with Tonka almost immediately. He started out laying beside her on the floor and then when she started clinging to him and his collar, he started inching slowly along on his belly. Within two months she was starting to try to crawl – not well, but she was beginning to move forward on her own, under his watchful eye and gentle encouragement.  That summer we went to a friend's house and Tonka swam with Kris, towing her across the pool with her little legs streaming out behind. That was the first time I heard her laugh.  We went for walks and ... Tonka hated the stroller... so I put his harness on him and she rode Tonk ... first one of us would hold her on him as we walked.  Once she could sit up by herself, she quickly learned about balance and how to hold on with her little hands, then she started using her legs to grip. She was so little that for the first year or so, she rode him pretty much everywhere we went (now I have to tell you, a child riding an Akita does tend to stop traffic and start conversations in the most unlikely places).

I guess it's no surprise she took her first steps hanging on to Tonka's collar. And nobody was prouder of their child than that Akita. By the time Kris was 28 months, she was walking with his gentle assistance and by the time she was 3 he had her running, not well and not like other children, but certainly beyond any expectation the “experts” had for her physical development.

Kris started playing soccer when she was nearly 5 and I don't know who found the practices more stressful ... me or Tonka because he wasn't allowed on the field with her. The first time Kris got knocked down, he dragged me the entire length of the field, straight down the center, to get to her.  He was really annoyed because I couldn't run fast enough and had set my heels to try to stop him … so we dug great furrows where he dragged me the length of the pee wee soccer field – it was like being on the water skis from hell. So much for obedience training, that all went right out the window when he thought his baby was in trouble.  “Akita on the field” became cause for a time out when Kristen was playing and went down.  I was probably an overly protective mom, but next to the Akita nanny,  I was nothing. 

It’s probably just as well that Tonka did not live to see her join a competitive soccer team as a teen;  I don’t think he could have watched quietly as his baby grew into a scrappy little defender who gives as good as she gets on the field … but then she is part Akita I guess.

Never sick a day in his life, Tonka had his 10th birthday physical and blood work when Kris was 6 and the vet said "I wish I was this healthy".... and two weeks later he became deathly ill one night and went into shock almost immediately with massive internal bleeding. An emergency exploratory surgery found him riddled with cancer. I don't know why nothing showed up in the physical but I am grateful that he was sick for less than 24 hours. His condition was inoperable and we euthanized him immediately.   I thought I'd torn out my heart. If we were heartbroken, Kristen was devastated and inconsolable by the lost of her first and best friend.

Today, 11 years later, Kris still keeps his ashes in her room with a picture of the two of them together. Never has anyone made such a difference in any child's life.  What he did for our family I have not the words to adequately describe.

Interesting aside ... Echo was Tonka's daughter and we always referred to her as our "idiot dog" because she'd been so very sllllllooooooooooowwwww to house train and even slower to teach anything else. I'd never met a more witless dog, which is so very NOT LIKE AN AKITA. She acted like a jumbo toy poodle – that’s truly the only way I can describe her behavior. Bounce.  Yap.  Bounce.  Yap.   It was like living inside a blonde joke.  Best I can figure was this Akita girl was the reincarnation of a Dallas cheerleader or somebody’s toy poodle.  She was a gorgeous Akita bitch who was always happy as a clam with all the wild enthusiasm of a Labrador retriever but with absolutely no sign of any brain activity.  The only thing Echo cared about in this world was Tonka.  Echo and Tonka were a tightly bonded pair; he was ever the serious, indulgent Alpha and she was always the bouncy big girl who looked to him for guidance.

The day Tonka died, Echo moved into Kristen's room and she became a different dog.  It was like Echo took off the idiot dog mask and became an Akita overnight to make Tonka proud.  She wasn't Tonka but Echo grieved with an inconsolable little girl and helped Kris work through the tremendous loss of her first and best friend. And I believe had Echo not felt responsible for Kristen, she would have followed Tonka to the other side very shortly after his death.

Five years later Echo told us she was ready to join Tonk.   Echo too had been diagnosed with inoperable cancer; she fought the good fight and we agreed that as long as she had quality of life and wanted to fight, we'd be there for her.  The last two of those five years I believe she hung in there for Kristen but she told us when she was ready.  It was again time for another sad goodbye and to ease her final journey. 

Not our first Akitas, certainly not our last, not famous show dogs, but Saki, Tonka and Echo epitomize the spirit, intelligence, unconditional love and dignity found in every Akita.

So this is why there is a Blue Moon Akita Rescue.  I am forever grateful to my Akitas for their gifts to my family.  I will do Akita rescue as long as there are Akitas who are sitting in shelters waiting to die because they are “unwanted."

This is a subject I could write about for far longer than anyone would care to read.  The story is true.  Kristen is my daughter.  Tonka was an AKC registered Akita "This Ain't No Tonka Toy" and Echo was AKC registered as "Tonka's Silver Echo"