Yesterday, December 15, Monday, was a tough day. Over the weekend mom was moved to hospice care. Teresa and I had scheduled a late afternoon appointment to let my faithful companion Shaggy go.
He came to us as a puppy. I had just gotten divorced, moving into my current house. A friend of mine had just gotten divorced and got her daughter a puppy. 15 pounds, maybe 9 weeks old, that was Shaggy. A German Shepherd Dog is no first timer dog. He chased her cats and they wouldn’t eat. He peed and pooped in their house. Her daughter wouldn’t take him walking enough. She called me and asked if I’d take him. I told her I was moving in today, and bring him to me tomorrow. That was about 9 1/2 years ago.
Shaggy was a big dog. He was 100 pounds dry. He had a bark so loud and ferocious it usually scared me when I knew he was going to do it. Anyone that saw him or heard him would think he was going to eat them alive. Our first vet, when he was young, would muzzle him because maybe he growled when he was scared, thinking he would bite them. They were wrong.
Shaggy, of all my German Shepherd Dogs (Scooby, Rocky and Shaggy) he was the least likely to commit violence on a person. He had a big smile he had permanently on his face, until yesterday I guess. When you sat on the couch you’d know he was coming to visit, and pant big dog breaths right in your face! Then he’d turn around and sit his butt on the couch by you, or maybe on your knee.
An exception to his gentle nature was if you were a deer. We were hiking off leash, yes breaking the rules, at Old Stone Fort in Tennessee. He spotted a deer and he ran off into the woods out of sight. I wasn’t sure how far he was going to go, or if he would come back! After a couple minutes he returned, of course with the big smile, looking at me like “I thought you were right behind me!”
His ferocious appearance served him well, but he was a big scaredy cat. I came home from a business trip late one night, maybe 2am due to a late flight. I told Teresa I was going to test him. I came sneaking in the back door, no barking. I peeked down the hall – Shaggy saw me, I saw him, and he stood there scared and peed himself. So ferocious! I’m glad people thought he was brave!
Shaggy was a working dog. He got excited when lots of people were around. When Teresa and I got married in our backyard, her brother said he didn’t need the training collar because of his strong bowling arm. Shaggy drug him down the aisle with his feet skidding along the path.
There were some things Shaggy loved. He loved his Kong ball, which is what he had when we let him go. He loved a really big stick, more of a log. He LOVED a Go-kart tire that a previous owner left in the barn. The thing he obsessed most over was an old cracked bowling ball. He could get one tooth in the crack, and one tooth in the finger hole and he’d carry it around the yard. He was viciously possessive of it, forcing me to toss it in the trash. Maybe that’s the only time I knew him to be scary – jealousy over his bowling ball.
He was most importantly a faithful companion. The thing he wanted most was to be with me all the time. He wanted to know where I was. He was always my protector, and I was his. Dogs, especially Shaggy, never lied about love.
When Shaggy was about 3, he tore his ACL in his back leg, which required very expensive TPLO surgery which mostly cured that leg. Then he tore the other one. Then one of his plates got infected so that was a third surgery. As he got old, he began to get arthritis in his poor old legs. But we bought him a lifetime of joy for him and us.
I mentioned on Facebook that I wanted to thank those that shared him with us. Teresa’s son Aaron lived with us and Shaggy off and on, and he cared for him while we were on America’s Great Loop for 11 months. We tried to make Shaggy a boat dog, but he was too big to get him between the boat and the dinghy. He had to stay home. My Little Brother David would watch him sometimes. All of our friends loved Shaggy. Never a dull moment!
Shaggy was diagnosed months ago with myelopathy, which caused his back legs to weaken, and he started to lose control of his bowels. We mostly had to help him get up, and I’d have to lift his butt end up the stairs. We scheduled the procedure to let him go, before things got much worse. As so many dog owners that make the decision will tell you, he was having a great day. He was getting up, was feeling good, energetic. On the way to the vet he pooped in the backseat of my car. Between the car and the door of our vet, he fell twice and couldn’t get up. I’m so thankful he did that because my resolve was being tested.
Aaron met Teresa and I at Veterinary Associates. Dr Hayes (I can’t remember her married name!) said she saw our name on her schedule, and what we had to do. She dreaded it all day. I’m glad she was there and could take care of him.
This was the last picture we ever took of him.
Shaggy left us all that afternoon to the setting sun streaming through the window of the room. He was laying on the floor with his head in my lap surrounded by the people he loved, me petting his head telling him I loved him over and over, him dozing off and taking his last breath.
Monday was a tough day.
Thanks everyone for your kind words and prayers. I know it’s more than Teresa, Aaron and I grieving him. He connected with so many people and brought them joy with his endless energy. RIP buddy