Saying goodbye to an old friend

My earliest memories revolve around pets and I can’t imagine my life without multiple animals. Unfortunately, along with the joys of pet companionship, come the sorrows when an animal’s life is over so quickly. A dog is often old at 12 and while cats can live to be 20 or older, their lives still pass too quickly.
Last night we had to have Scooby euthanized. He was Curt’s 12-year-old German Shepherd. I did not know Scooby during the prime of his life, but only came to know him after arthritis and hip problems had already begun to plague him. But, Scooby’s story is one of perseverance and he lived a life far longer than anyone expected. Several years ago, everyone who knew the dog thought he only had months to live. His hips were bad, he drug his back legs. But, then he started going to dog training again, and he got a renewed vigor. He got a tracking title at age 10 and scored a more than impressive 98 out of 100 points. He also got three obedience titles during his life.
While I was told that Scooby was somewhat dog aggressive and cat aggressive in his youth, by the time I came into his life, he had mellowed into a grand old gentleman dog. He loved to sniff my cats and he never threatened them. No matter how badly his legs pained him, Scooby would still run around the yard chasing my dog Batman. Those two loved to play. Batman learned to accommodate his play for Scooby’s disabilities. If Scooby’s legs were bothering him, they both laid on the ground facing each other and played just with their front paws touching or their jaws touching.
Because Scooby had a hard time using his back legs, he couldn’t scratch his head and neck properly, so there was nothing the dog loved more than having his neck scratched.
We knew that at some point the pain management Scooby was under would fail and his legs would become worse, but every time w thought that point had been reached, Scooby would rally and start running around with renewed vigor – at least until this past week.
This past week Scooby’s back legs seemed much weaker and the medications we were giving him didn’t seem to be helping. But, we kept hoping he would rally as he had in the past. But, it was not to be. We came home from a movie late last night and discovered that the recent high temperatures and humidity combined with his inability to move his hindquarters enough had caused severe sores to develop.
We took him to an emergency vet clinic. The veterinarian said they would have to sedate him in order to gauge the extent of the dead flesh and see if it could be cut out. Then he said Scooby would need to be on heavy antibiotics and be kept indoors for weeks. But, he said that after all that, we would still have a dog whose legs were failing. While we might have been able to bring Scooby home and keep him a few more weeks, we decided that all we would be doing would be prolonging his pain. The vet said he thought euthanasia might be the best answer. So, we said ok.
Curt scratched Scooby under the chin and stayed with him the entire time. I whispered to him to go find my dog Merlin who could lead him to the pack of animals who I hope are waiting for me somewhere. There is Lucky, the rat terrier who was my childhood companion. I got him in third grade and he died my senior year in college. Big Red, one of our many farm dogs, and Skippy, a dog who came with the farm we bought. Then there was Pica, my first dog that I got as an adult. Then Hoosier and Merlin. Hopefully those dogs are letting my cats join them as there is Misty, DC, Harold, Chapin, Minolta, Points and Cleo.
Some people say that after they lose a pet, they can’t bear the thought of getting another one and going through all the pain and sorrow again in just a decade or so. But, I’ve never been that way. I mourn, that’s for sure. I still can cry thinking of Piglet, the one kitten I managed to keep alive for a month when I rescued Ginger. All of her kittens died within 48 hours except for Piglet, but one day I went in and he was just dead in the crate. Ginger had been too ill I think during her pregnancy. But, I did manage to save her and she is here living a life no abused barn cat could have probably imagined.
But, the joy of the new life that joins mine when I adopt a new pet always outweighs the eventual sorrow. When Merlin died of liver cancer before his time, I was distraught, but the joy I now share with Batman is something I would not trade, even though I know The Bat will not live nearly as long as I would like him too.
So, drink a toast to Scooby and go give your animals a hug.