I was about 4 years old, when I first saw the being that would become my best friend and most trusted confidant. Playing in the common areas of my grandmother's townhouse complex, as was my wont when I was visiting with her, I first saw her. She was huge to my young eyes, but despite only recently having been attacked by a dog, and very nearly dying, I knew no fear. There was something special about this amazing animal, with her bright white fur, and shining golden eyes that captivated me immediately. She stood back from me, her tail wagging, and tongue lolling, watching me as I rolled down the hill that led to the park as children often do. I noticed her only as I reached the bottom, and turned to return to the top for another go...
She watched, as though waiting for me to invite her to join me, and being a child, full of curiosity, and mindless of the potential dangers of approaching a strange animal, I went to her. I was quite familiar with animals, and knew better than to rush at her, even at such a young age. I approached slowly, hand outstretched, speaking softly, careful not to startle the wonderous creature before me.

She sniffed my hand, and then licked it, her warm, soft tongue tickling my wrist, and I knew in that moment she was mine, and I hers, though there was no way I could have put that feeling into words at the time. We played, after that brief introduction, as though we had been raised together all of our lives. It was a wonderful afternoon, spent in games of tag, hide and seek, and wrestling games that children play with their beloved pets.

I was saddened when my grandmother called me in for dinner late in the afternoon, knowing that it was time for my new friend to leave, and return to her own home. I worried that I would never see her again, but I knew, despite what I felt, and the fact that she wore no collar, that she wasn't truly mine. I knew also that my grandmother would never allow her to come home with me, and that she would be terribly upset with me, for having played with a strange animal in the first place. (My grandmother was still blaming herself for the attack of a month or so earlier that had so nearly taken my life.)

I was quite subdued for the rest of the weekend, and though I searched the next day, for the wonderful dog, I was unable to find her.

Sunday evening, my aunt took me home to my mother's apartment, and there, the joyous mood of the previous day was revived by what I could only call think of as a miraculous coincidence. My friend from the park was there!!

As it turned out, the night that I had been called in from playing with my new friend, one of my uncles had found her, while out with his own friends. Knowing that his mother would never approve him bringing the stray home, he brought her to the only place that he could think that she would be welcome. My mother's. He was quite correct in his assumption.

My mother was almost as fascinated with the beautiful creature as I had been. She was also quite impressed with her gentle manner with my younger brother and sister. There was no doubt that the dog was going to make a wonderful addition to the family, but with me away, Mom thought it best to wait to see if I would be afraid of the animal due once again to the recent attack.

Needless to say, I was ecstatic.

As soon as she saw me, she stopped her playing with my cousin and uncle who had been playing "keep away" with her as dusk fell, and barreled towards me with a speed that frightened my mother, she admitted later. But she skidded to a stop in front of me, and happily began licking my face and hands as I giggled, and tried to hug her. Both of us were overjoyed to be together once again, this time for good.
Mom had come up with two names for the dog, but was having trouble deciding. She asked me for my opinion, and allowed me to choose the name from her two suggestions, which were Pepper and Sugar. Obviously, I chose Sugar. When my mother asked me why, I simply looked up at her and said "because she's so sweet, of course". Sugar and I were very very close for several months, and then the worst happened.

As required by law, Mom put up flyers, and ads in the local paper in an attempt to find Sugar's owner, though she hoped that the three months would pass without the missing owner showing up. Hopes were dashed just days before the time limit was about to expire. A man appeared at our door, and old, weather-beaten flyer in hand... he called her Nushka.
Nushka was his, he explained, he had been out of the country on family business until just the day before, and had left the dog with friends but she had escaped almost immediately from their yard by slipping out of her collar. In an attempt to prove that she was his, he called to her by her old name. Her reaction surprised all of us.

Rather than becoming excited, as most animals would greet a long missed person, or ignoring as she would have an unfamiliar name, Sugar set her ears back, bared her teeth, and growled deep in her chest. It was an ominous sound, the first such sign of aggression I had ever seen in her, but rather than being frightened by it, my heart rose. I placed my hand firmly on her raised hackles, and softly told her to settle down. She obeyed me instantly, turning her face away from the man, and sitting close beside me.
Needless to say, he didn't press the issue any further. He recognized quite easily that even though she had once been his, she was no longer, and he risked a stronger reaction than a growl if he did try to take her from her new home.

He was however, very gracious about it, not asking for payment, and telling us of her origins.
As it turned out, our wonderful new pet wasn't a dog at all, she was instead, a pure-blooded, wild born wolf which he had obtained on a hunting trip the previous spring.
He and a small group of friends had stumbled too close to her mother's den, and the she-wolf had attacked them to protect her pups. After being forced to kill the wolf, the hunters had discovered that it was a nursing female, and tracked her through the light spring snow to her den where they discovered Sugar and her litter-mates.
Rather than leave them to die, they took the pups, and raised them. At the time that Sugar slipped her collar, he estimated her age at no more than 6-7 months.
He left after the telling, and we never saw him again.

Sugar was with me until I was 16. She was indeed my best friend, and most trusted confidant. Highly intelligent, she was also sensitive to my every mood, and a great comfort to me through many of the most difficult times of my life. I loved her dearly, and I still do. There will never be another like her.