It is with heavy heart and lots of tears pouring down over my keyboard that I tell you this morning we put Dawg down. It was time. She was struggling with walking and seeing and hearing. She had mini seizures and slept all day.
We gathered last night to give her tons of hugs and kisses, the kids slept in sleeping bags at her side, then we let her go. We’ll have her cremated and later decide where to put her ashes.
She was a devoted funny happy gal, who especially loved soaking up the sun.
She was our protector, our best friend, and one for whom serious cuddling was a cure for all the woes in the world.
Her big brown eyes looked straight into your soul and she knew she was loved right back.
Dawg’s stern face often scared visitors and I never let on to people I didn’t know that she wouldn’t hurt a fly. I felt a certain ease knowing that any contractor in the house worried that one wrong step might send Dawg at them. Her bark was loud and fierce.
Only once did I see her lunge, lunging not to bite, but lunge as she was trained to do, to corner someone she felt was a threat. That was to a seasonal assistant to the UPS driver. Dawg obviously sensed the assistant was not a good human and let him know.
Dawg was always at our side – where we went, she wanted to be. Outside, inside, in the bedroom. Helping to garden, helping take in the laundry from the line, putting out the trash – she was there.
Dawg was a digger, loved to bury bones or root out critters, the latter got her skunked at least twice.
Her favorite sunning spot was the back patio, upside down to get a tan on her big fat belly. She’d stay there for hours. Here you can see how gray her face became. She went from young to old in about a year. Hey, maybe she wanted Hillary to win?
She hated the car though – was always the one who got sick, would gag and drool from nerves, even trying to coax her in, it was not her thing.
The one time she felt being in a vehicle was fun was when she rode in the giant military truck a son has. Wow, she was on cloud nine up so high. A rare smile.
She was a dapper dresser, the winter plaid, or blue, depending on her mood.
She hated the rain and I literally had to shove her out the door, or do a fake-out doorbell ring to get her out. Sadly, over the last two years, her hearing was so bad she neither heard the doorbell or even the UPS truck, which, in her youth, would send her barking in excitement.
She was pretty healthy, only once being ill, shivering, under the covers. But we took attentive care and she got well quickly.
With her best dog friend Bear..Dawg was a big girl but miniature compared to Bear. They were good buddies.
We haven’t begun to let this soak in. For now, we are all useless sobbing messes. The house will be unimaginably quiet and life not ever quite the same without Dawg at my side.
At some point, we’ll decide where to donate all the dog beds, the dog coats, bowls, food, collars and leashes – probably a rescue shelter that specializes in pit bulls, but for now it’s too soon to think about giving anything away.
Sigh. We love you Dawg.
PS: Give me a couple of days to regroup before blogging again. Okay?