I was born and raised in New York City and had always wanted a dog. I met my first husband when he was discharged from the army and came home to N.Y.C. He was lucky enough to have been stationed in Anchorage and Fairbanks, Alaska when he was in the military for his "overseas duty" instead of going to Viet Nam. During leave, he had spent time in Juneau and had fallen in love with the town (only 6,000 people back then). He asked me to come back with him and I told him  that the only way he would get me to live in Alaska is if we could have a dog.

We moved into an apartment in the middle of town. Back then, most everyone lived downtown or close to it. On a lovely autumn day, we decided to pack a picnic lunch and drive "out the road". (Juneau had and still does have only about 40 miles of roadway). At about 32 mile, there is a place called the "Shrine of Saint Terese". We stopped there to have lunch and take a break when we noticed a sign "puppies". The caretakers (from Canada) of the Shrine had a lovely Tervueren momma and all of her 8 pups. 6 of the pups were black and 2 were Tervs. They told us the sire was a black dog (Groenendael) from B.C. Canada.  We picked the *cleanest* boy since they had been living outside all summer.  Neither one of us knew anything about picking a puppy! He was born on August 8, 1972. On our 32 mile drive back to town we named him "Hudson", after the street I had lived on in N.Y.C. My love affair with the Belgian Sheepdog began.

Hudson lived to be 14 years old.

My first husband Angel & Hudson, August, 1976 on the top of Mt Roberts, Juneau, Alaska. The Chilkat mountain range is in the background of the photo.