During the big storm of last week....Mike suddenly deteriorated. He'd been having some breathing and neurological problems....I expected he would go slowly down hill...but when I came home before the storm...I found him weak....just barely able to lift his head.... and one of his pupils was blown...a sign of neurological decompensation.
The storm hit right afterwards... and the boys stayed near him...while I dashed around....after things quieted down....and I sent the boys to bed....I took over Mike's vigil.
I had a small hope that Dr. Bill... our good-hearted miracle working vet.....might be able to do something in the morning...but the nurse in me knew......his breathing and neurological problems couldn't be cured...and we were facing either the put-to-sleep or allow-him-to-languish-till-his body-gives-out scenario.
I wanted to move him into the kitchen....closer to food and water...and the center of the house....but when I tried to stand him up....on those massive white paws....he collapsed onto the floor....and I knew......just knew it was the end.
Mike came into our life as a stray. I saw him zig zagging down the boulevard near our house and said to myself...that dog is going to get killed.....of course... he was on the other side of the divide...so there was nothing I could do for him.
About an hour later....I opened the back gate of our yard which leads onto the street.......and there he was....he immediately came up to me....panting...wild-eyed....it was over 90 degrees out...and he looked thirsty, ragged....and tired.
I called my hub to come see him....and we took a little walk....he stayed near us...but at one point wandered into a neighbor's yard...ironically to sniff the St. Francis of Assisi statue (a saint known for his kind treatment of animals)....the neighbor started screaming......"Get Out...Get Away!" ....and my hub...simply said...."Here Boy..." and he followed us home.
Over the next couple weeks.... we searched for his owner.....and spruced him up. His long hair was hopelessly tangled....and I remember how my young daughter held him lovingly in her arms for two hours....while I patiently snipped matted hair balls off him.
He was friendly ....but we noticed behavior problems.....if anyone raised their voice....even innocently...."hey bring me the scissors".....he would drop to the floor, roll over, lift his leg, show us his wienie....and shake. If you raised your arm to do anything...he would cower. He couldn't left alone....no matter where we placed him...laundry room... garage.....he would go berserk-- crashing and tearing down things.
Since no one could stay home with him all the time....we decided to place him with the Humane Society. Perhaps if he had a good home....out in the country....where he wouldn't have to be confined....he do well. My hub planned to take him after work to the Society....and I sat with him on the porch...waiting hub's arrival.
Mike looked up at me....with his sad droopy eyes....and I wailed....our middle son has special needs......and somehow.......giving this dog up....because he couldn't fit in our normal household....was akin in my own thinking......to the many school professionals who wanted to move my son out of the mainstream...because he didn't fit either. By the time hub came home.....I had decided...."No he can't go...we have to do something ....but not this."
Dr. Bill....looked over Mike.....and listened quietly to all his problems. Abused animals can often panic or be destructive when left alone....and although he was only 10 months old....he felt Mike has suffered frequent beatings. He advised tough love....buying a kennel...crating him religiously every night and when we were out for a minimum of 4 months.....and gentle-kindness. Even our other douffy dog....a big...clueless Weimaraner got into the act....cuddling next to Mike and joining him on his walk.
In a few months.....Mike calmed down.....he bonded to the other dog....and bonded to us. We were his pack....and unfortunately he over-compensated. Although the family ....could pet, poke, tease...play and romp with Mike......any one not from the pack was an enemy. Sweet gentle Mike....growled and looked ready to attack anyone not in the tribe. So we learned to adapt....if someone came to visit....it was....hello....how are you...come in.....wait...let me put the dogs away. It was just part of our life.
Mike never had acute vision....and sometimes his over protectiveness turned on us......if we ever wore a hat....or a big bulky coat....he would study us....and growl a little.....so we learned to quickly pull hats off in his presence and say..."Mike it's me...it's okay." He would come over and sniff us just to make sure we weren't impostors.
Mike became one of the nannies. Our children were raised in the company of two big dogs and a cat who thought she was queen of the universe. When the children grew older.... and I would leave them alone in the house to run errands....I never worried about strangers entering our home.....it would literally be over the dogs dead bodies. With teens, Mike wasn't needed to protect anyone...and he mellowed into a sweet...lovable....companion.
So when I couldn't move him that stormy night last week.....there was no way I was going to abandon him....I brought a pillow and blanket into our study....and laid down next to Mike. He was awake and looking at me.....so I just petted him....stroking that beautiful liver and white hair....and telling him over and over...."You're such a good boy"....in the sing songy way....I have talked to him for over a decade. A few times....my tears....hit him right on the nose...and he moved his head up towards me....which only made me cry more.
I prayed and prayed for him to die at home...quietly.....but he did not. In the morning, hub and I set off to the vet. I grabbed a dish towel on the way out....Kleenex was too flimsy for the amount of tears....when Dr. Bill asked if we were ready....there was a moment....a moment...when I wanted to just scoop Mike up and run out the door....and back to time when the children were little....when he and Minnie...slept peacefully in our kitchen in one warm dog lump....when we complained about dog hair or argued over who's turn it was to walk them.....but you can't go back....and the present seemed so sad.
I nodded to the vet and we held him....as the needle went in....I kept telling him over and over again......."You're such a good boy"....hoping that would be the last thing he heard and understood and felt from his pack.
~~~~
