German Shepherd/Rottie mix, born 12/12/1996, died 6/12/2011, at 14 1/2 years old.

I know he was an old dog, and his time had probably come. In fact I thought this day would have come 2 or 3 years earlier, but even then this was too soon. Over the last few years of his life, he had lost a good amount of his hearing and his eyesight had gotten worse (throw him a tennis ball and it would bonk off his nose).

I knew he had hip dysplasia from when he was fairly young, but he was able to manage and loved going for walks. The leash was all you needed to get him excited. He was very active until he was 9 or 10. At that point, he could no longer jump on the bed, sometimes he would make it halfway and climb up and other times he would fall back down. Eventually he developed a spinal problem called Spinal Spondylosis, which entailed the degeneration of the discs and fusing of the vertebrae. He would sometimes stumble when walking or let out a yelp, but most of the time he was OK. There were treatment options for it, but they were fairly expensive as most of them are not standard. At least he was getting by. By this point, he could not run, and stairs were difficult for him to navigate. He also had some skin tumors, and I had them removed, but the biopsy said they were not cancerous.

Unfortunately, he had cancer in other areas, and I only saw the back and hip problems. Two or three weeks ago, I went to let him outside and he stumbled off the sidewalk, and had great difficulty getting up. When he did get up, I noticed that he leg had been swollen to twice its normal size, although it wasn't like that the day before. He was able to get up and walked up the stairs to lay down in the hall. I went into my room only to find knocking noises against the walls. He was having a full-blown seizure, and when he came to he was out of it, not even able to walk or get up and not normal. I took him to the emergency vet to see what was wrong. They took X-rays in addition to looking at the leg, but the X-rays revealed some large tumors. A radiologist confirmed that one of the tumors was lymphoma, and he already had learned the first was prostate. But the immediate problem was the seizures. I got him pain medication and antibiotics, thinking he might have had some infection in the leg that was causing other problems. But he kept having seizures even with the medicine, about one every day. After that followed seizure medication, which got rid of almost all of the seizures, but had side effects. One was that it would cause his heart to race and have panic attacks, and the other that he was not able to raise himself to walk. Since there was cancer as well by now, we tried some alternative medicines, because that's supposed to help, and if the problem was the seizures and he wasn't in a lot of pain it might work, and also because surgery on that old of dog was not a good idea, complications, and expense to boot.

In addition, when I researched seizures in older dogs, it said that most likely it was a brain tumor in addition to the other cancers I knew about. But still, I wanted to see if something could be done. After an acupuncture treatment, he zonked out so I can say it did have some effect. However, later on he started to whine. When he got comfort he would stop or maybe some diversion like bubbles.

But as the last few days dragged on between the scheduled appointments, his pain started to increase. What worked for comfort no longer did, and his whines become barks of pain through the night, from the pressure of the abdominal tumors continuing to grow. He had lost 11 pounds in 4 months as well according to the vet's scale. We brought him outside and stayed with him, letting smell the air, feel the breeze and the sunshine. The neighbor's cat was also of great interest to him, even though he could not move much. He was trying though, he could almost get into a sitting position. I left to go to a fur meet, able to clear my mind for awhile, but when I came back I learned he kept getting worse. I realized then that the alternative medicines or surgery could not help him. So that night we took him to the same emergency vet and had him put down. I stayed in the waiting room because I could not bear to see him die. When I got home, I went to sleep trying not to think about it too much, but the next day that was all I *could* think about, and although it doesn't feel as painful as that first day, two days later, he still fills my thoughts.

The sad part is that I could tell he wanted to live, and he had a good appetite, but there was no denying that he would continue to be in increasing pain if I did not do anything. It was a very difficult decision, but I think it was the right one, even if it doesn't feel that way.

I don't know if anyone will read this, but it's really a tribute to a great dog and needs to be said.

So, why did I care so much?

Well it's all about his personality. I got him as a two month old puppy, roundworms at no extra charge. I knew both the parents, the mother was a purebred GSD and protective, the father was a rottweiler who'd lay on you and kiss. So I knew it was a good start. By the time I had got him only two were left from the litter and he was the most playful and active one. I brought him in to introduce him to the kitty and he immediately piddled on the floor (they were both about 15 pounds). I had brought a different cat from a rescue in a couple years before and she did the exact same thing in the exact same spot. But they soon got along. I don't think the kitty liked it so much when I told my dog "Get Kitty" when he was older though.

I remember laying on the couch, asleep in my arms, the cat joining us as well, although sleeping at my feet. I brought him to a puppy socialization class and he always got the toy from the other puppies. Yes, he was jealous. After the class, I realized that a tennis ball makes a great teaching tool, so he learned a lot of commands by that was a reward. I used to tell him "Kick toy" and he would stare at my foot until I kicked it to him, or else "kick snow" and he'd bite at the flying snow. I took him to visit some friends a couple states away, and remember him barking in my ear at the sound of the wind as I opened the window to pay the toll.

If I gave him a tennis ball, he had to have two in his mouth. One stick wasn't enough, it had to be two, or even three. But what was the best about him was that he was everyone's friend. I taught him not to bark at me, saying "What!" every time he barked, and that had a shock effect.

Not a single person did he not go to say hi to, play with, not once in his life. Often he stared at the neighbors wagging his tail and waiting for an invitation to join them. Once he jumped in the neighbor's car's back seat to go for a ride. Whenever there were people around, he wanted to be right in the middle of them, and if he were forced to be separated he'd whine and lay at the door to the room. I told you he was jealous? When my cat was laying with me, he'd climb to the top of the couch (or the bed), lay down there, and then flop over me and the kitty to make him go away, and then lay on me and give me kisses. Yes, he did a lot of things he shouldn't do, chewing up vacuum cleaner cords (not plugged in, thankfully), the cords to a $100 set of headphones, corners of books, digging in the garbage or opening any exposed food or taking what he could from the counter. He helped himself to a box of staples, but didn't find them very tasty. And sometimes he'd play chase around the neighbors' places making me late for work.

Taught him to snarl after he ate the leftover eggs with tabasco. And the last couple years, I'd hold out a piece of food and get a snarl, but it was kind of half-assed. That's all right, it was fun! He'd sometimes sit on the couch with his butt on the couch and legs on the floor, just like his owners. Oh, and he absolutely loved laser pointers. He would bound up and down the stairs, run down the hall, jump on the wall to bite them. I still have the paw marks on the wall from countless times playing with him. Bubbles too, sometimes he'd snarl at it before biting. He knew to shake his head on command, life one paw, "Hurt your paw", sit kind of like a fire hydrant, vertically, called "Gopher". "Ride the dog" meant he'd walk between your legs as you went forward, turned and went backwards. And yeah, I teased him too, "Ohhhhh Kitty" for a plate of leftovers and his entire body would flinch. But overall, he was happy, and wanted to be near his human friends, and for all those reasons I miss him. I may get another dog sometime, but it has to be the right one. I know it will never be a "replacement". Some people clone their pets for $150,000 but it's not the same pet. The experiences shape it and it might turn out to be a different dog or maybe a Kayless from the Klingons. I told myself that there's a few things I would do when he died, but right now those don't seem that appealing to me. Getting new(er) furniture, wood floors, traveling, etc. He did dig into the cushions ruining several of them, and for awhile he knew the "dig" command.
It's the little things I miss I guess. Even though at his age he wasn't running or playing much he would greet me, and all I had to do was to put my plate down and it would be cleaned up (sometimes if I didn't want to!). Even the sound of him whining to go outside I miss, just being able to pet him.

If I get another dog, it's hard to know exactly but I want a dog that's sweet but intelligent, and to be able to feel that special bond once again.