Atta Jane: My 06 Female

Many years ago, my friend Abigail heard a podcast about the 06 Female and said she reminded her of me. I rushed to listen. As soon as I heard her story, I fell in love with the gray wolf of Yellowstone. Fierce, feminine, a fighter, a mother, and a beauty, she was, she is, everything I have always believed to be the best about a woman. I wanted to meet her.

It’s not legal to own wolves in Ashburn, Virginia so I set out to adopt the closest I could find in a gray northern breed dog. And I found her in Dallastown, Pennsylvania. Abandoned on a street, an abdomen filled with cancer, she was rescued and nursed back to health by her foster family before finding her way to her forever home with us. Atta joined our family on March 23, 2016.

Tiny for a Husky, but not small in spirit, Atta became my immediate and constant companion. So pretty that cars routinely pull-over and ask for her photo, so stubborn that even I eventually acquiesce to her every demand. I often meet men who tell me that they have alpha personalities. I simply smile, and reply, “You haven’t met my dog.”

Vocal, aloof, fleetfooted, and determined, Atta and I instantly understood each other. It’s not cliché to say she is my most loyal friend, because it is true.

I named her Atalanta after the Greek myths. Atalanta, meaning equal in weight, a symbol of female power and strength in a male-dominated world. Orphaned and raised by hunters, she became a great competitor, and could not be out-paced, winning footraces all over Calydon.

Atta suffered a stroke on Thanksgiving, and while she eventually regained some mobility, her voice never really returned. And neither did the buoyancy of her spirit. Struggling with arthritis, losing her hearing, pacing with relentless anxiety, and finally, her appetite waning, Atta has lost the fighting spirit of her namesake Atalanta, and the ferocity of her Female 06 origin story. After a particularly bad event on Sunday night, I found her hiding in the corner, pressed in between the coat rack and the wall. She looked at me and, as it’s aways been between us, we understood each other. Her time is upon us.

I carried her up the stairs and climbed into a warm tub with her to clean her up. She didn’t resist me. I pulled her crate downstairs and set up one of her many beds inside of it with a small bowl of water and her favorite stuffed animal (a gray wolf). I helped her inside. She curled up, faced away from me, and rested her head.

We will help her on her way and give her permission to pass. A doctor will visit us at home on Wednesday morning at 9:00 AM, just one day shy of her seven-year birthday with us. Liam will be home from campus. Eamon will stay home from school. Lyle will be next to her, concerned, licking her ears and standing too close. She will be with her pack one final time.

Atta, it’s not an exaggeration to say you changed everything for me. You inspired in me a tenderness I didn’t know I had, an imagination that never would have dared to be so brave, and an independence of spirit that calms and emboldens me. This final gesture comes to you in kindness, filled with love and compassion for the beauty you were in our lives and the happiness and safety we hopefully brought to yours.

You are ready even if I am not. As you go, I’ll hold you so close and whisper our words to you so we never forget: wolves have no kings.