Losing a pet

(From the Sept. 10 issue of the Citizen)

We have lost a member of our family. Rocky, the best Doberman pinscher anyone could ask for, had to be put to sleep last week.

Not really having pets growing up, losing a dog after having him be a part of my life for so many years was a new experience for me. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do.

Even though Rocky was about 14 years old and his time really was up, it did not make it any easier to let go. My husband Steve adopted Rocky from Doberman Rescue when he was around 2 years old.

Rocky has only been in my life for the past six years, but in that time, he has become a part of my life and my family.

My son Deven has also had a difficult time dealing with losing Rocky. Rocky has lived with us since Deven was just 3 years old.

I think what was even more difficult than putting Rocky to sleep was seeing the condition he was in before we let him go.

He has always been a big dog, even for a Doberman, so it must have put too much pressure on his hip, which looks like it broke.

He could no longer walk or even sit up. What was heartbreaking was that he soiled himself because he could not even stand to do that.

We could get him in the house, and he settled in a corner in the garage. He looked so miserable that I broke out in tears every time I saw him.

He would not eat and drank very little water. Before this, Rocky was the most sweet, loving, playful dog that loved taking walks. In fact, we could not even say the word “walk” around him without him going nuts.

Food was another thing Rocky loved. He loved to eat. Deven has many memories of Rocky stealing one of his cookies or chasing him around the house trying to grab his ham. Those were really funny memories.

But the Rocky we knew was already gone. To see his personality gone like that was extremely heartbreaking.

He no longer responded to me, even when I used the magic work “walk.” He looked like he was so embarrassed about his condition.

Selfishly, we wanted to hold on to him as long as we could. No one wants to put their pet down, but once it got to this point, there was nothing else that could be done.

What made things worse was that my husband Steve was in Chicago for business that week, so I had to go through all of this alone.

I was able to load Rocky into the car with the help of our good friend Bobby, who came over to help me take care of Rocky. This was something that definitely could not wait until Steve came home.

The night before I took Rocky in to the vet, I made him a chicken dinner. He devoured an entire plate of chicken breast and bread.

It made me so happy to see him eating. It even gave me a small ounce of hope. The next day, I bought him Taco Bell soft tacos, kind of like his last meal. This time, he did not even turn his head.

That broke my heart, but at the same time, showed me that it really was Rocky’s time. It was nothing like the Rocky that would try to jump on the table and steal our food every time we had Taco Bell.

I think the most difficult thing was explaining things to Deven. I did not lie. I did not keep anything from him because I respect him enough to understand the situation.

He saw the condition Rocky was in and I explained that we could not let him continue to suffer. Deven was devastated but also understood why it had to be done.

I only had to deal with one breakdown with Deven yelling to me, “I don’t want Rocky to die!”
Deven went to the veterinarian with us, but opted to wait in the lobby while the procedure was done.

I stayed and comforted Rocky the whole time, telling him how much we loved him and that we would miss him. Then the vet looked at me and said, “He’s gone.” I am not ashamed to say that I bawled like a baby.

But after that, all of Rocky’s pain was gone. He will be able to have peace now.
Goodbye Rocky. You were the best dog anyone could ever ask for. We love you.