Her name was Koti, and she was my best friend.
I found her by accident. I'd taken my grandmother to the animal welfare association just to look at the dogs. One husky ran straight to the front of her cage with her tail going, rubbing against it like she was saying, "Please come pet me and take me home." I put in application papers that same day, without telling my parents. They told me someone had already applied for her, but they could list me as a backup. I was heartbroken, but I said yes.
About a week later they called. She was mine if I wanted her. When they brought her out, she jumped up and put her paws on the counter to watch me sign the paperwork. No lie.
We wrestled, threw the ball and went on walks. She fell completely in love with my uncle, and he was her favorite person to visit. She had her own daily walk with him too. Her favorite game was picking on my dad. The minute he started dozing off in his recliner, she'd walk up and start punching him with her nose, tail wagging the whole time, knowing exactly what she was doing. And every day, she was the first one to greet me when I got home from work.
When I moved to Florida, leaving her was one of the hardest things I've ever done. A couple of years later, my brother called and asked me to call him back once I got home. I knew something was wrong with Koti. She had passed away, and I wasn't there to say goodbye.
Part of the reason I started Simply Husky was to keep her memory alive. Every shirt is a little tribute to dogs like her: the ones who scheme, wag, argue and love their people with everything they've got. If you have a husky like that at home, give them an extra scratch for me.
— Rob