Tag Archives: dog

Our Fred Crosses the Bridge

Fred

There are dogs and then there are those dogs who have so much character and life that they make an indelible impression on your life and you never will forget them. Fred was such a dog. We got Fred when he was one year old. Our dog Trusty got out and somehow Fred got free and they were both playing in our yard. Fred had been living down the alley tied up outside and he cried and barked constantly. This had been going on for a week or so. Fred’s then owner came by later that day and reported he was not a dog person. He had been at a party out in the country and Fred had been tied up and was barking and the owner said Fred was a huge nuisance and he planned on shooting him. This man decided that was wrong and had taken Fred home with him but he was no dog person and worked long hours and Fred was clearly unhappy tied in his back yard. We agreed to let Fred stay with us until a proper home could be found for him. I was thinking maybe a week.

Fred’s rescuer then backtracked Fred’s history and found Fred had had several one month or less “homes” until he was traced back to the formal adoption by a woman who had taken him from the Winnipeg Humane Society. She was still his formal legal owner but she immediately passed on all of Fred’s assorted original paperwork and a transfer of ownership document. It was quite a bundle. We found out Fred’s official birthday was exactly one week after our Trusty’s. We also found out he had originally come from some place in the USA and was supposedly a purebred Australian Shepherd with AKA papers which was of course utterly preposterous. There is some Aussie in there but he’s no purebred. He had been purchased from a pet shop and then somehow ended up as a puppy running loose on a northern first nations reserve. He was rescued from the reserve as a four month old puppy the day before dog shoot day. Going through his paperwork we discovered Fred had been passed through at least nine owners before coming to us. We took him to our vet. Our vet told Fred that he was one very lucky dog to have landed where he did. We contacted the Winnipeg Humane Society and they were more than happy to have Fred officially transferred to us. It was then we realized Fred had become our dog.

Fred was a delightful fellow but he had no manners. He as too old for puppy class but we started him in obedience classes and he completed all three obedience levels easily. We found he was a food driven dog and would do anything to get treats. Treats were far more important to him than affection and praise. Unlike Trusty he had no interest in agility. This whole leash and behaving thing as strictly about treats.

Fred soon settled right into our household as if he had always been around. We had only one bump. When he first came into the house and spotted one of our then three cats and he charged. I grabbed him and gave him supreme hell and told him in our house cats were part of the pack. I won’t ever forget his face. I’m sure he was thinking “Oh please, it’s a cat. You don’t seriously expect me to treat a cat like a pack member!” However in spite of Fred’s obvious bewilderment of our love of cats he immediately decided the cats were part and parcel of the package and he had an obligation to protect them. He never chased one of our cats even again but he would take joyous delight in chasing strange cats. If any dog or other animal pestered our cats he would ferociously charge out to defend them. His attitude was if he had put up with these damn cats, he was going to make sure no one else was going to get any pleasure or joy out of chasing them either.

Fred had one major behaviour issue. He loved to go roaming. Every chance he would get he would take off and go exploring the area. He had an invariably good sense of direction and he never seemed to get lost. He was also expert at making friends. We put a tag on him with his name and address and our phone number and it also had the name and make of our trailer and that he was from Canada. He would take off and there was no catching him. Eventually he would wander back or someone would contact us to come get him. One time we found him bumming cheese dorritos in a bar. Another time we found him perfectly at home at a family gathering after making off with some spareribs from their barbecue. Once he got away at a music festival and he was “arrested” by security when they caught him helping himself to their hot dogs. Another time Fred was returned riding in a golf cart, after he went visiting a golf course next to our campground. Once we got called by the City of Winnipeg Animal control to report Fred was waiting by the door for them when they arrived to work expecting his free ride home. Fred’s galavants were a constant source of amusement and aggravation. He was the absolute master of sneaking out of a partially closed gate or dashing away at an opportune moment. He pulled this stunt at least once a week. His last run was a few days before his death and he only got a few blocks from home before I caught him. He could no longer outrun me or go far.

Fred’s favourite  thing to do, besides eating, was chasing a ball. He loved the ball. As a young dog my husband would throw the ball with a ball thrower 40 times to wear him out. Over the years the number dropped. In his last few months he could no longer chase the ball because his hips got injured. He would carry the ball instead and if we were at a beach he could fetch the ball as long as he had to swim to it. He loved to swim. He loved going in the canoe too, but he preferred swimming beside the canoe as often as he could.

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Fred playing with two boys he befriended in Georgia. Fred would later save the younger one from drowning and be rewarded with a whole steak. Fred loved kids.

Fred once saved a four year old boy from drowning. We were staying at a campground on a river in Georgia and I was out walking him. A little boy got in over his head and was being carried away. He was floating at his hairline. We adults didn’t notice but Fred did. He charged and tore the leash out of my hand, leaped from a wall into the water and raced to the child going like a motor boat. As soon as he got to the child, the little boy pulled himself up gasping and Fred turned and swam back to the child’s father who was now on his way out. Fred took the child straight to him and met him halfway. That evening the grateful father stopped by with a barbecued steak that was so big it hung over the plate. He asked for permission to give it to Fred. I, of course, gave it to him and a bewildered but delighted Fred had a few moments of heavenly happiness wolfing down this huge steak.

Fred also intervened on four occasions when human predators were out to mug us. He was the sweetest dog and loved everyone but on those four occasions he was transformed into a snarling growling killer dog ready to kill for us. I don’t know if Fred would have actually attacked but the four possible muggers didn’t want to take the chance and left us alone and went searching for easier prey.

Fred and Trusty were inseparable buddies for eleven years. Fred was hubby dearest’s dog and Trusty was mine. The two dog played together, slept together, cuddled together and rarely had even a doggy scrap where one or the other growled and snapped. There were two exceptions. Fred got first dibs on any food unless we forced the situation. Trusty got first dibs on sleeping location. Other than that they were perfect together.

Fred loved kids. Visiting kids meant food and fun. He would play endlessly with them. In addition to ball, one of his favourite games was to try to snatch the water coming out of the hose. He was often totally soaked while kids laughed and laughed as he played with the hose. He never got upset with or snapped at a child. If they got mean or hurt him he would simply shake them off and leave.

At the age of eleven Fred developed a funny black lump on his foot. We took him to the vet and the vet checked him and found several more lumps and bumps. We decided to just remove the lump on his foot since it was interfering with his ability to walk but otherwise do nothing. As time passed the lumps and bumps grew and proliferated but Fred was still happy and enjoying life so we did nothing.

When Trusty passed I was worried Fred would mourn. He didn’t seem to. Dogs live in the moment anyway but Fred even more so than most dogs. When we got the new puppy, Misty, Fred fell head over heels in love and instantly began mentoring her. When he figured out if she went out to do her business they both got treats he made her housebreaking his personal mission and she didn’t have an accident after the first week. He played with her constantly, slept with her cuddled to him, and adored her as much as he had Trusty. He also stole her puppy chow every chance he got.

A week ago Fred started whimpering when he jumped up the stairs into the trailer. He started scratching his belly a lot. He also seemed to be having trouble getting into a comfortable sleeping position. Two nights ago something dramatically changed and it was clear he was in terrible pain. He was awake all night and even the pain killer we had for his occasional back trouble did nothing. He kept looking at me with his big eyes begging me to do something. We took him to a vet that day, one here our friends used and the vet agreed it was time. One of the lumps and bumps had caused his liver to enlarge and it was pressing on his diaphragm and Fred was suffering horribly. I was with Fred when he departed. He was frightened, the pain was bad and he didn’t like the vets handling him so he struggled. I went to him and I held his head and looked into his eyes and talked to him, calming him enough for the vet and the tech to do their thing. As the drug took effect, his eyes filled with relief and gratitude. They said “You did it, you made the pain go away. I knew you would. Thank you.” And then Old Fred was gone.

 

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I am a fan of Lacy J Dalton and my favourite song of hers is Old Dog Blue. Fred knew it was about him and he would come over and put his head on my knee and give me doggy love eyes. I called him Old Fred even when he was a young dog.

When I get to heaven first thing I’ll do is shout

“Hey, Old Fred!”

If there are no dogs in heaven I don’t want to go.

 

Afterword: About a week later I had a vivid dream. I was outside and Fred suddenly came running up, happy, full of life, and young and healthy. I was astonished and said “Fred! What are you doing back here? You’re dead!” Even as I gave him a pat and a greeting, an angel came flying/running to us. “I’m so sorry, I just turned my back for a second and he got away on me.” She snapped on the leash and led Fred off with me laughing. Yup Fred would do that.

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Life with Misty and Fred

If you thought babies grow fast, you have never watched a puppy. When we got Misty she was 13 pounds (5.8 kilos). By her second vet check she was 23 pounds (10.4 kilos) and on her latest vet check she hit 33 pounds. (15 kilos). She has had all three rounds of puppy shots and her rabies vaccine. She has her own tag and last visit she got a microchip. She turned 4 months old on September 2. Fred by contrast is 88 pounds (40 kilos) he turns 12 on September 20. Almost every day Misty has grown bigger. She eats about four cups of puppy food each day but she has hungry days where she will pack in as much as seven or eight cups. We are feeding her the highest quality puppy food and I must admit I will be glad, for the sake of our budget, when we can switch her to adult dog food. Hubby Dearest makes many jokes about Clifford. She has begun losing those needle sharp puppy teeth (thank goodness!) and clean large new white adult teeth are coming in fast and furious.

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Our vet surprised me by recommending we do not spay Misty at six months. Given her parental breed types and their bigger but slower growth, he recommended we wait until she is at least a year old. This will give her bones time to fully develop and growth plates to close before cutting off her estrogen supply. Given her breed and size she probably will not have a heat in that first year. We had a discussion about handling an early heat if she does, and preventing pups, as well as the pros and cons of letting her have one heat cycle before spaying her. Apparently you trade one set of risks for another but overall it is better to wait because her breed types (given both her parental breeds) are prone to hip issues and tears in ligaments in the knees and early spaying and neutering seems to increase those events. There are cancer risks decreased by early spaying but there are also different cancer risks increased by early spaying. There isn’t really a right or wrong answer. As always, it is about weighing risk versus benefit so we will revisit the issue at her next check up at one year. I always thought spaying at six months was the absolute normal standard but times are a changing and apparently the thinking on this is changing as well.

Misty is a delightful dog and we feel very blessed to have her. She is still a puppy and as such is subject to those bursts of bad puppy behaviour that result from overwhelming exuberance with life and the itch of new teeth. Even so she had learned several commands including “off”, “off cat” (for small animals including our cat), “come”, “sit”, “lie down”, “shake paw”, “quiet”, “out”, “truck” (go to the truck so we can drive somewhere) and of course her favourite “walk”. She will fetch if prodded but it is not her favourite game. Balls, however, well balls are joy. She has also acquired a lot of the manners essential for successful living with humans. She has a pretty solid grasp of the idea that most things in the house are not hers to chew and some things are. We have had very little trouble of late with her chewing things she is not supposed to have. Constantly rescuing objects from her and substituting toys and an abundance of bones and chew things has helped a lot. The puppy mouthiness improves daily.

Walks are the highlight of Misty’s day, no surprise there. She minds very well on the leash and can now heel on command. She is also pretty trustworthy off leash. We leave her off leash for part of almost every walk now and she stays close by but also thoroughly enjoys the opportunity to run flat out. We take her into our back unfenced yard when we work and she stays in the yard and runs herself to exhaustion in great fast circles.

Misty also loves swimming. We were going to the beach on a regular basis while the weather was warm and it took little urging for her to start swimming eagerly and freely. She has big webbed feet, a legacy of her Golden Retriever mother and those make for great paddles.

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One of the pleasant surprise bonus of her temperament is she is what my husband calls “a contemplative dog”. She likes to spend a lot of quiet time just watching the world go by outside, taking it all, watching everything with great interest but quietly. Fred suffers from such severe separation anxiety that he simply will not sit quietly outside. If we are not with him, he wants in right away. A dog who seems to enjoy sitting outside is a real pleasure. I have known a few German Shepherds who like contemplating the great outdoors so I will give her father credit for that. She daily develops more bridling the most recent being new shoulder brindle marks. Genetically she is a “trindle” i.e. a tricolour dog with brindle as her second colour. That is obviously from her father as well. Her ears are still going between up and down. In these picture they are down but when she is alert and attentive outdoors they stand up like a German Shepherd’s. I think Golden Retriever will win on that account long term though. The older she gets, the more the ears spend time down.

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Misty will sleep anywhere but given a choice she takes the big comfy dog bed or she sleeps at our feet. At night she will sneak into our room so she can sleep at the foot of our bed or on my side on the floor near me.

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Today a proper new big steel kennel arrived for our girl. It is currently large enough for both dogs in a pinch. Fred already has his own big kennel. We learned early how important it is for each dog to have a sturdy steel kennel. Many hotels, shelters and home owners who otherwise will not tolerate dogs, are happy to accommodate them if they have a proper steel kennel. After Irma and Harvey the necessity for each animal to have a proper kennel is even more obvious.

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Another thing that is different about Misty is she is clearly my dog. All the other dogs in our life regard me as a useful pack member but Hubby Dearest is clearly the Lord and Master of the Universe. For some unknown reason of dog brain functioning, Misty seems to have concluded Fred may be the big guy’s dog but she is MY dog. This is not to say she doesn’t like my husband, especially at mealtime because he is in charge of food, but if he gives her a command, she will look to me to reinforce him before obeying. If I get up in the night to use the washroom, Misty always gets up and follows me. She doesn’t follow him. Where I go, she always tries to follow. I must admit after 25+ years of playing second fiddle master, it is very nice to have my own dog at long last.

Misty is an easy going puppy. You expect all kind of trouble with puppies. She still forgets her manners and jumps all over me on occasion. She still will give a puppy nip and then be all contrite when scolded for it. But I see improvement every day. She is also endlessly and totally loving. When she runs on our walks she careens off exploring the world and then runs back for a reassuring pat and some praise. Then she is off again. It has been fun seeing the world through puppy eyes again. It is a marvellous wonderful place. Still, I am looking forward to the day we get past puppy antics and I have a quiet well behaved adult companion. Each day I see that adult dog a little more and the EF5/Category 5 puppy little less.

 

Losing Trusty Dog

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Trusty Dog
September 20, 2005 – June 26, 2017

We got Trusty in 2005. We had recently had to put down our dog Princess because she was suffering from senile dementia and she had become aggressive. It was heart breaking because Princess was physically in good shape but her mind went. We didn’t get Trusty right away. Losing Princess was traumatic and it took time for us to get up the courage to try again. Eventually we found Trusty.

Why a bull terrier? I did an on line thing to help you pick the perfect breed and given our lifestyle and expectations a bull terrier came up as our first choice.She was from  championship purebred line with multiple blue ribbons. She was “pet quality”. That was plenty good enough for us.

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Trusty was three months old when we got her. She was such a sweet little girl. She was bright and curious and wanted to please. We kept her in the kitchen at first. That didn’t last long. She picked up the whole housebreaking thing almost immediately and she hated being away from us. Within a week the barrier came down and she spent the rest of her days always nearby if we had a choice.

We didn’t plan on having two dogs. Trusty got out of the yard and she came home with Fred. After some investigation, we determined Fred was in an unhappy place and his people gladly turned him over to us. Fred was the perfect foil to Trusty. Where he was energetic and dominant, she was calm and easy going. Both dogs went through three levels of obedience training with us. Fred only tried for it when he could get treats. Trusty just loved getting it right.

Trusty also did agility for a while. She loved agility and we went once a week for several months. One day, for reasons I do not understand, she abruptly decided she had had enough of this. I suspect she hated how the border collies could always beat her no matter how hard she tried. Whatever it was, we had two sessions where she simply refused to do anything so we quit going. If we were out somewhere where agility equipment was available, she would willing go through a few rounds but then move along. We were so done with that.

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A couple of days after Trusty brought Fred home to be her buddy

In 2009 we sold our house and spent five years traveling all over North America in a travel trailer. It was glorious fun. The dogs were excellent companions and loved the travel. When we picked out our rig we deliberately chose a truck with room for the dogs to ride with us in the cab. We are dog people. We rarely go anywhere without our dogs and we miss them when they are not with us. Traveling including stops at as many dog parks as possible and many roadside pee breaks, some quite memorable. The back seat of our truck was their kennel for the most part. We were very careful about heat. We rarely used the crates but if the dogs could not be left in the truck or trailer, they went into their crates. We also attended as many dog oriented activities like the Great Canadian Dog Party and the Appalachacola’s Wooffest. Both dogs enjoyed these doggy outing but Trusty enjoyed them much more than Fred.

Trusty was a happy dog. That was her main attribute. She wasn’t good at doing tricks and nor did she like to do things just for the sake of doing them. She needed to understand why something was important before she would do it. Rules she didn’t care for, she would ignore, but only when we weren’t looking. Trusty loved little kids and was very protective of them. If she saw a child alone she would get upset and panic and whine and fuss until she saw a parent nearby. Unlike Fred, she could be trusted not to snatch delicious things. Kids were too important for that.

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Trusty was a loving little soul as well. I never knew dog who loved other animals the way she did. But her absolutely special favourite love was horses. When she saw a horse, she fell apart. Fortunately horses seemed to like her.

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There was one thing more than anything else that Trusty loved. She loved it when people stopped and admired her and she was especially happy if they wanted to take her picture. Oh she would preen and pose and be so happy. Love me! I am beautiful and I know it. For some reason Japanese tourists found her especially attractive and always wanted pictures with her. There are pictures of her all over Japan I’m sure.

Fred was a swimmer and he would swim every possible chance he got. Trusty would only swim if it was really hot and she needed to cool off. She never stayed for long in the water. She hated cold, really hated it. I would often put on a little coat and boots so she was warm enough in the trailer. When I bought her a raised bed so she was off the cold floor, she soon figured out how to shove the bed so it was over the vent and the furnace could blow up under her bed to warm it for her. She really hated snow which is why I think she loved traveling south in winter. Both dogs loved the beach and we had many wonderful winters wandering beaches where dogs are welcome on the east, west and especially the Gulf coast. Trusty loved a nice long walk on the beach. I would say “Do you want to go to the beach?” and both dogs would lose it and race to the vehicle at top speed.

It was at the beach this winter that I first noticed the change in her. I know I was thinking last fall that she seemed kind of depressed. I figured getting to the beach would cheer her up. It didn’t. She acted confused and frightened by the beach. Instead of participating she would stand and cock her head left and right, stare off into space, give a funny shake and then let her head droop. It would pass but afterward she would be remain confused and she would tire quickly and walks became a drag. After one of these episodes she would often attach herself to the nearest pair of legs and follow them even if they were not her own people. More than once I didn’t notice she was following someone else. I would find her halfway down the beach with perfect strangers acting totally and hopelessly confused. I stopped letting her go off leash unless we were alone on the beach. She found it a comfort attaching herself to our friend Jack Rudloe. Jack was not disturbed by her hanging so close to him. I started always walking her with the leash on. One time she got confused and jumped in the car with perfect strangers and I had to drag her out by force.

In this set of pictures she is having one of her episodes.

Here she is exhibiting her ‘attach onto the nearest set of leg’ behaviour.

At the time I put her strange behaviour down to aging and maybe going deaf and blind. Yet, she seemed okay a lot of the time. She had some good days at the beach where she would run and play freely but she lacked her energetic interest in life. She seemed mostly quietly content. I noticed she was sleeping a lot more. She would sleep deeply for eight or nine hours. I also would find her under the table stuck or hiding from something. I don’t know what was going on with her. We once spent most of the afternoon hunting for her everywhere thinking she had gotten out of the fence and wandered off, which was very much not like her. We found her hiding in a space under the table, sound asleep. She didn’t wake up and notice us calling her. We made a trip to a vet down there but he couldn’t find anything specific and put it down to aging.

We got back to our home in Manitoba and I was hoping she would improve. She didn’t. New symptoms appeared. She began pacing at odd hours. On the one hand she would sleep for eight or nine hours without waking, deeply deeply asleep and hard to wake. On the other hand she would pace up and down, up and down, up and down. When she was awake she would often wander about aimlessly or stand without moving and cock her head to one side and the other and back again, droop, shiver and then look all confused. I was no longer seeing her happy expression. Every once in a while we would see a peek of the old Trusty. It became rare and I treasured those moments and would tell myself she was fine. Mostly I saw only the confused and unhappy dog.

Trusty also began to ask to go in and out repeatedly over and over and over again. It began to drive us nuts. It was hard to get any work done. She would stand next to us, let out this loud sharp bark to go out, she would go out and then bark to come back in. Literally two minutes later she would repeat the performance. While she was out she would forget to pee and then have an accident in the house. She previously had a really superior stomach clock and in the past she would bark at Dick when it was 4:00pm. She used to always get it within a few minutes except during the period after the changeover between daylight savings and standard or when our travels took us over a time zone. She lost this. We found ourselves getting impatient with her. This made her worse. She wanted to please us. She knew she wasn’t pleasing us. She didn’t understand why. Her solution was to withdraw and do more sleeping.

In May she started a new behaviour. She had always been prone to eating strange things but she began turning walks into battles to eat weeds. If there was any grass or weeds nearby she would stop walking and try to eat them. In the past we had the command “OFF!” and she would stop and drop it. The command no longer worked. The result was she would often eat something noxious and then get sick and vomit. She began fighting me when it was time to trim her nails and those paw pad callouses we had always struggled with on her paws got worse. She would no longer let me soak her feet in epsom salts to soften the callouses and trim them. Her nails got long. It became a battle to trim them and she was a strong dog.

She began passing gas that was so stinky you could hardly stand to be in the room with her. Her breath was often really foul as well. To me it smelled ketosic like she was dehydrated. Sometimes she would start drinking and then do her head tilt thing and forget to finish. When we went for a walk I would keep her on the leash and make her walk in the middle of the road where she couldn’t get at any weeds. Otherwise we didn’t walk. We fought. We started skipping walks which broke my heart. Sometimes we would take Fred and she would sleep through the walk preparations and still be asleep when we got back.

By June we were no longer including her in activities because it was too hard on her and us. We also couldn’t leave her alone because she would start eating things, or have an accident or walk herself into a corner and get stuck and cry. I put it down to canine dementia. She was nearly twelve years old. I read about accommodations for this and tried to institute them. It didn’t help. Trusty continued downhill at a far faster pace than dementia would suggest.

Whereas before we saw the old happy Trusty for at least a few hours a day, it now was down to 20 minutes of time each day with the old happy Trusty and the rest of the time just this sad confused strange little dog. It was heartbreaking to see her stand and then tilt her head from one side to the other several times as if trying to figure out what was going on. And then she would stand there in total confusion. She would walk up to us and bump us again and again. After these sessions of confusion, she would sometimes just stare at me with this sad sad look. She also stopped eating. She would often simply refuse her food. She would stand over it and sway her head back and forth and then walk away.  Two or three days later she would get aggressive and wolf down both her food and Fred’s, driving his away from his dish with unusual force. Fred began acting afraid of her and started avoiding her. He also stopped eating and would look at his bowl with longing but be afraid to go forward and take his food because of anticipating an attack. We started feeding him outside so he could eat in peace. Yet, just when I was at my wits end with her she would have a few good minutes and our Trusty Dog was back.

The end came this past weekend. She ate something, who knows what. And she was sick all night. Diarrhea and vomiting, and it was a horrible mess. Plus both her eyes were full of white puss and her nose was streaming. I am very glad about one thing. I gave her a warm bath and very gently cleaned her up. I rinsed all the crud from her eyes and the white part was bright red. I put in some antihistamine drops and the red eased up very quickly and she seemed to find relief. For a short time after her bath she perked up. Even so we knew it was time.

We took her into the vet on Monday. I can’t describe how hard this is. At first the vet suggested, since Trusty’s physical shape was so good, that we try fancy dog food and maybe some medication for doggy dementia. I found myself in tears and I described how bad this poor little dog had gotten. How we only saw our Trusty for 20 minutes a day now and how it was getting worse. During all this Trusty just stood there, acting like her confused self. The vet watched this and he agreed it was time.

One very nice thing happened. The window to the office was low down and a horse was being brought in. Trusty became aware of the horse and she got up on the window and made her happy whine. A horse was nearby! In her last minutes she was happy. And then she went back to the head tilt, head tilt, and standing confused. She was gone soon afterward.

I was horribly upset with myself afterward and filled with guilt and regret. I cried and cried. Maybe I had pushed her too soon. Maybe my poor Trusty could have had more good times. Maybe I was cruel and selfish to not try to do more for her. I had another dog years before and I had waited far too long to put her down. I swore I would never let a dog suffer again like that. The dog would be put down as soon as quality of life was gone and not prolong the suffering. Yet maybe I had pushed Trusty too fast. Maybe she could have had a few more weeks. Maybe we should or could have done some tests and figured out what the issue was and fixed it.

I had a dream about her the first night after I killed her. She came to me and put her head down and asked me to look inside. I could see into her brain and I could see strange sparks and misfirings. And then she looked up at me, so tired and so unhappy, and she gave me a nose touch. I watched her run off in a meadow. There was a human of some sort with her and she was happy now.  She did her happy bouncy jumping move, the move I had not seen in a long time and she was gone, following this figure. It was someone she knew and trusted. I am not sure who. We had a friend who died a few years ago who really liked Trusty even though she was not a dog person. Maybe it was her. I like to think so. Maybe it was an angel. Why shouldn’t dogs have a guardian angel?

Looking at all of Trusty’s pictures and preparing this farewell has given me sense of calm and peace with our decision to euthanize her. I don’t know for sure what was wrong with her. We did not pay for many expensive tests to try to find out why she deteriorated as quickly as she did. I don’t think it would have helped anyway. I no longer think it was canine dementia. More reading since that vivid dream has led me to think Trusty actually had some form of epilepsy. She was not having full blown grand mal seizures. She was having focal seizures or what would be called in people petite mal. When she paused and titled her head one way and then the other, dropped her head and gave a shiver that was probably a seizure. Maybe she had a brain tumour that was progressing. Maybe it was genetic. Purebred and line bred dogs sometimes have recessive diseases brought to the fore. It is a risk taken to improve the breed. The late onset suggests that was not it and it was more likely something acquired with age. Since we didn’t pay for a necropsy we will never know. I have known humans with epilepsy and they describe the after seizure period of confusion and exhaustion and sometimes head pain. Poor Trusty was suffering even if she was not in pain.

Trusty had a good life with us. She got to see and do many more things than most dogs do. She was loved and she had so much fun in her all too brief doggy life.

Good bye happy sweet kind soul. You will be sorely missed. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you. I’m sorry you couldn’t live forever.

“Our dogs want to please us, but keeping them alive for ourselves is a poor return for the love and joy they have given us. Letting them go with dignity when they are ready is a small but significant repayment for their devotion.” Maryann Szalka