Springer Rage they called it, Canine Schizophrenia, Psychotic Episodes...call it what you will, any way you looked at it, it was a damning diagnosis. It took the urging of several trainers, several veterinarians, concerned friends, multiple attacks, a trip to the ER, and stitches for me to let you go. Even then I clung to the hope that we could work through it. Then you attacked me again. Your fate was sealed the moment your DNA formed. You weren't a monster, just sick.
You died with dignity surrounded by those you loved so much and who love you still. That's why you picked us, isn't it? You needed someone that wouldn't give up, that would take the time to understand you rather than throw you in the pound to die scared and alone.
We played fetch, you drank from the pond and greeted the vet with your best wiggles and licks. You were having a good day. She gave you something to make you sleepy, and even then you managed to wiggle into her heart. Finally you laid down under the tree by the pond in our backyard. Mathias gave you kisses while I rubbed your ears and stroked your fur.
"You're a good dog" I said.
"I love you" I said.
When your heart stopped, I think mine did too for a moment. We sat for a long while. Then they covered your body with a blanket and took it away. I knew you weren't in it anymore. You were in the sweet breeze that was blowing, the sound of the water fountain in our pond, and in every memory running through my head.
Your crate, dishes, and toys are put away. Our wounds are healing and my scars are fading. We mopped the last of your paw prints off the wood floor today. All the outward signs that you lived here are slowly fading, but you will forever be near and dear to our hearts.
I'm so sorry for your loss, I think you best described it by saying when his heart stopped, so did yours!
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