RouletteWeekend

Yesterday was another one of those days that I’m glad is behind me now. We put our almost 11-year-old Rottweiler to sleep. A year ago, in September, we put our 12-year-old German Shepherd to sleep. Both of those days were ridiculously emotional for me. I didn’t know when I got them that I would end up being so attached. I had never really had animals that I was “attached” to. We had a cat when I was a kid that got run over by my mom in the driveway. I’m not sure if my unwillingness to love an animal stemmed from that or if I just used to be really cold and dead inside.

Then I got these two dogs. Athena was the first one. I handpicked her from a backyard breeder before I knew better, and a little over a year later, I met Zeus, the rottweiler. He belonged to a friend around the corner and was being left outside on a chain. Athena had changed my heart about animals and was very much an inside (very spoiled) dog. So I asked if I could bring Zeus home just until the guy who owned him found a place of his own where Zeus, who was named Blue at the time, could be an inside dog.

I never really asked what the guy’s intentions with the dog were. I just knew he didn’t need to be outside and that I had extra room on the couch for him. And so, he came to stay with me temporarily. I took him to the vet and got him fixed because I am a believer that dogs should not be bred, especially if they are not in great health and he was not. He had hip issues from the beginning. The vet said that it was genetic and eventually it would get worse and he’d likely need surgery. After getting him vetted and fixed, I found out the guy who owned him was planning on breeding him and was actually really pissed that I had gotten him fixed. So pissed, in fact, that he said he didn’t want the dog anymore and I could have him. Which was just as well.

Rottweilers typically live to be 8-10 years old. And Zeus made it that far. He would have been 11 in January. And he was so healthy his whole life. I used to joke that it was because he was so big and dumb, but he was really smart and sweet. We were lucky he lived as long as he did without health issues.

But when his health started deteriorating, it did so quickly. Over the past few months, he just went downhill. He wasn’t eating as much. He wasn’t as happy-go-lucky-jumpy as he used to be. He started walking slower. It was almost like when Athena died, he just fell into old age. Having been through the hip dysplasia thing just a year earlier, we knew how the story was going to end. So, when all the signs started pointing toward zero quality of life, we knew it was time.

The knowing is the hardest part. You think you are doing the right thing, but you question it ever single step. “Is it too soon?” “Is today just a good day for him or is he getting better?” “Is he just old and needs rest or does he feel bad?” We played that game for quite a few days before having to make the tough decision, but as humans, it is our job to make sure that the pets who loved us so well in life, get loved back just as much in death.

So we called the vet and made arrangements. Euthanasia means “good death” in other languages. And that’s what we wanted to give him. We wanted him to have a good death. We felt like we gave him a good life and, if I’m being honest, I felt like we waited a little too long with Athena and she suffered a little more than she had to because we selfishly didn’t want to lose her. We chose to be less selfish with Zeus.

So now, we are a dogless house for the first time in 13 years. I don’t know what to think or how to feel about that. Will brought something else to my attention this morning, too. Zeus was our last thread, holding us to something like sanity. With him gone, we are officially crazy cat people. Will was ready to run out and get a new puppy on the way home. I am not quite ready. I used to say I didn’t know if I would ever get another dog once these two were gone, but honestly, the house already feels so quiet and “unguarded” if you will. I like hearing the barking. I like the morning ritual of going outside with the dogs and feeling the wet grass on my feet. I like filling food bowls and water bowls. I don’t love cleaning up the dog poop in the yard, but that’s just part of it.

So, will we get another dog? I’m going to say that the answer to that is very likely a “yes.” When will we get another dog? Well, I’ll probably be licking my wounds for a little longer, but another four-legged friend is inevitable.