My dog, Brother, is now frolicking around on Rainbow Bridge
Brother was an abandoned dog who I rescued 15 years ago. At the time I had another beautiful little dog named Spooky and I called the stray dog Spooky’s Little Brother for a while and Brother just stuck.
The vet guessed at the time when I first brought him there that the youngest he could have been was a full year so his birth date was simply estimated. But if the youngest age he could have been was a year or so, he managed to make it 16 years in this world.
Brother was an abandoned dog who I rescued 15 years ago. At the time I had another beautiful little dog named Spooky and I called the stray dog Spooky’s Little Brother for a while and Brother just stuck.
The vet guessed at the time when I first brought him there that the youngest he could have been was a full year so his birth date was simply estimated. But if the youngest age he could have been was a year or so, he managed to make it 16 years in this world.
Because he was abandoned I tried my best to take extra good care of him. I wondered if he was abandoned because a family couldn’t take care of him and then wondered if some little kids were missing him and had no clue where he was. I know that had I ever lost a dog and someone else found him that I would have wanted him found by the best person possible (and not someone like the Eagles quarterback) and that he would lead a wonderful life if not with me.
I left home when I was 16 years old and only returned for about a year a couple of years later. Considering that we don’t have much memory of the first years of our lives I was with this dog longer than my own family. Since I never had children, he was not only my family but a surrogate child to me.
Brother was my fourth dog. There were a couple of more in my family when I was younger, but consider him MY fourth.
My first dog
The very next day I was given a cute little white dog which I named Napoleon. He lived to be 14 years old and while I had him I bought a little black puppy which I named Spooky.
Napoleon died in my house while I had been drinking myself into oblivion one final Saturday night. I came home wasted to find him lying on the floor dead while Spooky was trying to wake him up.
That, of all things, ended my drinking career at 31 years of age. I was an alcoholic, and already had come to that conclusion some years earlier, but the fact that I made the decision to drink like that (and it was every day) and wasn’t there for my dog was the ultimate reason that I checked into a rehabilitation clinic the next day.
The only thing that kept me from shooting myself in the head that morning was that I knew at least that Spooky was with him at the end if I wasn’t a good enough man to be there for him.
Spooky lived to be 12 years old. He had a brain condition the name of which I can’t recall. He had broken his house training and the vet diagnosed the reason and said he had a short time to live. He was still quite energetic and this was particularly shocking, of course, so I didn’t make that call right away.
Spooky pretty much told me himself one weekend when he did something uncharacteristic of him and I could tell he was in pain.
If you have never been with a dog when he/she is put to sleep I can tell you that it is a very peaceful and comfortable process. It is quick and there is no evidence at all that there is any pain involved. Thank God for the people who developed the method of doing this in a way that is humane and dignified. Back in the old days our pets would just get taken in the back yard and shot when it was their time.
I was initially shocked and therefore extra upset with how quickly it was all over but it was the right time and his pain was now gone so I was comforted knowing that reality and the fact that Brother was still with me and waiting for me at home.
I had one regret with Spooky afterwards, however, and it was that he was still a little agitated when the shot was administered. Had I known how fast it was going to be I would have spent a few extra minutes calming him down more.
At the time Spooky passed Brother was nine years old. He was already a senior dog at that point. So I basically spent the next 7 years of his life trying the best that I could to be an even better pet owner. I fed him better food, I changed the way I corrected to him to keep him less stressed, I played with him more, I sat with him more, I hugged him more, I savored every minute that I could. I loved his dog more than any other as a result of all of that.
Since I laid him down I’ve been upset wondering if I did enough for him and with him. I guess anyone might think that they didn’t once their pet is gone and I am no different, but I did try my best to make him as happy as possible. I take solace in the fact that since he lived to be 16 years old that I did something right.
About five years ago he came up lame because of a bulging disc in his back. Back then I thought it might be over for him too and to say I was upset (and anytime I say that) is just an understatement. But his vet prescribed him steroids to relieve inflammation and after just two doses it was like he was a little puppy again. This stuff is the fountain of youth, I’m going to tell you. Now, I knew this wasn’t a cure for his back but what it did for him was nothing short of a miracle, in my opinion.
This treatment allowed Brother to have a better quality of life and it also allowed me to have more quality time with him and to make sure that I could do my part to try to do even more still figuring that he didn’t have a great deal of time.
He had a couple more cycles of steroids during the next few years and each time with the same results. I even asked the vet at one point if we could just cycle him through a steroid round occasionally as a proactive and preventative measure. He was sort of reluctant because there can be liver complications so we never did that, but given that he was on them now and then anyway, I didn’t want to risk any side effects needlessly.
A body-builder that I know believes very strongly that men over 40 should cycle through a round of steroids now and then to improve their overall health. And I will say that watching what happened to Brother the five times he was on them made a believer out of me.
Back in early September, Brother came up lame again and it was a trip to the vet with a specific request for the steroids this time. Sure enough, two doses and he was running around the backyard like a puppy again. But it was a little different this time. He didn’t get the power in his legs back to jump up on the couch like he used to do.
Brother was a very charming little dog. He used to step in front of someone from whom he wanted attention and would sit up for you. It was completely irresistible and worked every time, even on me to whom he did that thousands of times.
But during the past nine months or so, he wasn’t able to do that any more and it was very noticeable to me that he was trying but just couldn’t.
When the round of steroids was done he came up lame again and it was worse than a month ago. I knew that if I pressed the vet for another round, he would give in to my request but I knew that I would probably have to sign a waiver.
But Brother had a few other issues also at this point. He had what was diagnosed as some sort of heart issue which made him dry hack to a point which I was feeling was too uncomfortable.
For about ten days I would help him get in and out of the house to pee. I hoped that maybe he just twisted something and he would get better, but it never happened. Then a front paw was hurting him so his whole left side was now not working right and he really couldn’t get up at all this past Saturday morning.
This treatment allowed Brother to have a better quality of life and it also allowed me to have more quality time with him and to make sure that I could do my part to try to do even more still figuring that he didn’t have a great deal of time.
He had a couple more cycles of steroids during the next few years and each time with the same results. I even asked the vet at one point if we could just cycle him through a steroid round occasionally as a proactive and preventative measure. He was sort of reluctant because there can be liver complications so we never did that, but given that he was on them now and then anyway, I didn’t want to risk any side effects needlessly.
A body-builder that I know believes very strongly that men over 40 should cycle through a round of steroids now and then to improve their overall health. And I will say that watching what happened to Brother the five times he was on them made a believer out of me.
Back in early September, Brother came up lame again and it was a trip to the vet with a specific request for the steroids this time. Sure enough, two doses and he was running around the backyard like a puppy again. But it was a little different this time. He didn’t get the power in his legs back to jump up on the couch like he used to do.
Brother was a very charming little dog. He used to step in front of someone from whom he wanted attention and would sit up for you. It was completely irresistible and worked every time, even on me to whom he did that thousands of times.
But during the past nine months or so, he wasn’t able to do that any more and it was very noticeable to me that he was trying but just couldn’t.
When the round of steroids was done he came up lame again and it was worse than a month ago. I knew that if I pressed the vet for another round, he would give in to my request but I knew that I would probably have to sign a waiver.
But Brother had a few other issues also at this point. He had what was diagnosed as some sort of heart issue which made him dry hack to a point which I was feeling was too uncomfortable.
For about ten days I would help him get in and out of the house to pee. I hoped that maybe he just twisted something and he would get better, but it never happened. Then a front paw was hurting him so his whole left side was now not working right and he really couldn’t get up at all this past Saturday morning.
I knew that this was probably the time. I got upset thinking that this had to be too much for him and also knowing that I had to make a decision about the life that meant so much to me and had changed my own life as well. I am sure that it was not a pretty sight to see me right about then.
But then I had to go to work for a few hours; it was unavoidable. I contacted the vet along the way to see if I could get in there to see if there was anything that he could do. Maybe, I thought, I could leave him in their care for a couple of days and they could help him. Maybe even when I got home a couple of hours later he would be better.
I worked (videotaping a football game) and tried not to cry on top of the press box (and failed) knowing that I had left him alone while he was in pain.
I rushed back home praying he was ok.
But he was not better. While he did come down the four stairs necessary to reach outside to pee, he fell when he tried. During those 3 hours I was gone, he messed the kitchen where I had to keep him.
Again, I was just a mess. I thought I let him down. Dogs need dignity just as much as humans do. If I ever get to the point where someone has to lift me around so that I can pee I will beg someone to put me down. I thought that he deserved the same respect.
My poor little boy was as brave and strong as he could be and he didn’t know what was happening to him and why; he just pushed forward the best that he could, and it was so admirable.
But I knew what was happening and I also know that dogs have feelings as well and all of that was running through my mind as I lifted him into the car and rushed down to the vet.
That ride wasn’t pretty either as I was petting him the whole way there realizing that these strokes of his soft hair were probably going to be some of the last.
Usually when our car rides were done, he would easily get out of the car. But he didn’t move to even try to get down. He just couldn’t. Now, I’m slumped over at the waist in the middle of the parking lot doing whatever I could to try to compose myself. Finally I lifted him out carried him to the vet’s office. He was resigned to being carried and this was something that he didn’t really like before.
We were brought right back into a room and I was sitting on a bench with him in my lap. I was trying to figure out exactly what I was going to do but was waiting for the conversation with the vet. As Brother was sitting in my lap he was hacking again. Then the vet walked in and I really couldn’t keep calm.
The vets where I go are truly amazing. Although this wasn’t Brother’s regular vet this guy was truly, 100%, professional and compassionate. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to talk through this situation with the dog.
He did offer to go through another round of steroids and pain medication but it was going to mean doing some blood work and regular blood work after that as well. Then there were financial considerations. Here is where I lost it again. If you have read this blog you know that I have had financial issues this year. Now I was angry on top of everything else; I had just been turned down for a job this past week and I simply don’t have the savings or unlimited cash flow necessary for something like that. I would spend whatever I could have to help my dog but I simply didn’t have it. I have plenty of credit left but still have too much unpaid on there now.
Ultimately I knew that I had to resign myself to the fact that this was not about me at all; it was only about my little Prince. I didn’t want to risk finding him like I found Napoleon. And I had thought about this moment for years now. I knew how I was going to be able to control it so I wouldn’t have that small regret that I had with Spooky. He lived a great life, or at least as great as I could make it for him with my limited ability as a flawed human being.
I had to make sure that I was not trying to keep him alive as long as possible because I was being selfish. I needed to be as selfless as possible with this life that I cherished so much.
So I made the decision. I wondered what gave me any right but it was only really only mine to make.
I am not really a man of God. I am best described as agnostic but I have my moments when I can only think and believe that God exists. I do pray from time to time. How I know God is through what I hear, read, and sometimes even see and experience. One thing that I have read, and do believe more than anything when it comes to matters of God, is that our pets are placed with us by God to watch over until He wants them to come back home to Him. My main duty for the past 15 years of my life was to take care of Brother until this time came. I did pray and said to God that I hope I did a good enough job doing that for Him.
The vet techs took him to prepare him and carried him back in to the room wrapped in a blanket. I got down on floor with him and had a few minutes to say everything that I wanted to say. I know that sounds odd to some people but I really don’t care what those people think.
I told him that I loved him and how happy he made me. I told him that Michelle, his mommy, loved him. I petted him and hugged him and had him kiss me back, which he did.
The vet came in and, again, was just amazing during what must be a very challenging time for them. Brother was calm, in my arms, and looking at me as his eyes slowly began to close shut. I knew it was over right away having been through it before but the vet talked out loud about what was happening and how it was gradual and peaceful. I appreciated it and just took that time to say to my Prince that I loved him and petted him and hugged him more.
I was noticeably shaking when I knew I was now alone and my little boy was gone. I am right now as I write this. My heart is broken and empty. I am so destroyed right now even knowing that it was the right thing to do for him. I wonder if I have done something wrong to deserve this pain that I feel.
Since I am alone and I have to travel for work I cannot have another pet without imposing on other people to help take care of one. My little boy was my life. I didn’t even realize how my life was revolved around him. I haven’t been able to sleep right for the past couple of nights, although I got more rest last night than Saturday.
He used to make a certain sound to try to wake me up in the morning, or whenever he wanted me to awaken. I heard that noise the first night while trying to sleep. I can still see him in my mind around every corner and whenever I look out the window into the back yard. It’s not very surprising; I thought that something like this might happen.
I walked around the house most of the day yesterday not really knowing what to do now. I am sure that this is much like what happens to those who take care of elderly parents or other sick family members who stay as close as possible and do every thing to help that you can. I am also sure that what I am going through pales in comparison to those situations. But I will say that the bond and love that I had with, and for, this dog was as strong as any other that I had in my life.
But then I had to go to work for a few hours; it was unavoidable. I contacted the vet along the way to see if I could get in there to see if there was anything that he could do. Maybe, I thought, I could leave him in their care for a couple of days and they could help him. Maybe even when I got home a couple of hours later he would be better.
I worked (videotaping a football game) and tried not to cry on top of the press box (and failed) knowing that I had left him alone while he was in pain.
I rushed back home praying he was ok.
But he was not better. While he did come down the four stairs necessary to reach outside to pee, he fell when he tried. During those 3 hours I was gone, he messed the kitchen where I had to keep him.
Again, I was just a mess. I thought I let him down. Dogs need dignity just as much as humans do. If I ever get to the point where someone has to lift me around so that I can pee I will beg someone to put me down. I thought that he deserved the same respect.
My poor little boy was as brave and strong as he could be and he didn’t know what was happening to him and why; he just pushed forward the best that he could, and it was so admirable.
But I knew what was happening and I also know that dogs have feelings as well and all of that was running through my mind as I lifted him into the car and rushed down to the vet.
That ride wasn’t pretty either as I was petting him the whole way there realizing that these strokes of his soft hair were probably going to be some of the last.
Usually when our car rides were done, he would easily get out of the car. But he didn’t move to even try to get down. He just couldn’t. Now, I’m slumped over at the waist in the middle of the parking lot doing whatever I could to try to compose myself. Finally I lifted him out carried him to the vet’s office. He was resigned to being carried and this was something that he didn’t really like before.
We were brought right back into a room and I was sitting on a bench with him in my lap. I was trying to figure out exactly what I was going to do but was waiting for the conversation with the vet. As Brother was sitting in my lap he was hacking again. Then the vet walked in and I really couldn’t keep calm.
The vets where I go are truly amazing. Although this wasn’t Brother’s regular vet this guy was truly, 100%, professional and compassionate. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to talk through this situation with the dog.
He did offer to go through another round of steroids and pain medication but it was going to mean doing some blood work and regular blood work after that as well. Then there were financial considerations. Here is where I lost it again. If you have read this blog you know that I have had financial issues this year. Now I was angry on top of everything else; I had just been turned down for a job this past week and I simply don’t have the savings or unlimited cash flow necessary for something like that. I would spend whatever I could have to help my dog but I simply didn’t have it. I have plenty of credit left but still have too much unpaid on there now.
Ultimately I knew that I had to resign myself to the fact that this was not about me at all; it was only about my little Prince. I didn’t want to risk finding him like I found Napoleon. And I had thought about this moment for years now. I knew how I was going to be able to control it so I wouldn’t have that small regret that I had with Spooky. He lived a great life, or at least as great as I could make it for him with my limited ability as a flawed human being.
I had to make sure that I was not trying to keep him alive as long as possible because I was being selfish. I needed to be as selfless as possible with this life that I cherished so much.
So I made the decision. I wondered what gave me any right but it was only really only mine to make.
I am not really a man of God. I am best described as agnostic but I have my moments when I can only think and believe that God exists. I do pray from time to time. How I know God is through what I hear, read, and sometimes even see and experience. One thing that I have read, and do believe more than anything when it comes to matters of God, is that our pets are placed with us by God to watch over until He wants them to come back home to Him. My main duty for the past 15 years of my life was to take care of Brother until this time came. I did pray and said to God that I hope I did a good enough job doing that for Him.
The vet techs took him to prepare him and carried him back in to the room wrapped in a blanket. I got down on floor with him and had a few minutes to say everything that I wanted to say. I know that sounds odd to some people but I really don’t care what those people think.
I told him that I loved him and how happy he made me. I told him that Michelle, his mommy, loved him. I petted him and hugged him and had him kiss me back, which he did.
The vet came in and, again, was just amazing during what must be a very challenging time for them. Brother was calm, in my arms, and looking at me as his eyes slowly began to close shut. I knew it was over right away having been through it before but the vet talked out loud about what was happening and how it was gradual and peaceful. I appreciated it and just took that time to say to my Prince that I loved him and petted him and hugged him more.
I was noticeably shaking when I knew I was now alone and my little boy was gone. I am right now as I write this. My heart is broken and empty. I am so destroyed right now even knowing that it was the right thing to do for him. I wonder if I have done something wrong to deserve this pain that I feel.
Since I am alone and I have to travel for work I cannot have another pet without imposing on other people to help take care of one. My little boy was my life. I didn’t even realize how my life was revolved around him. I haven’t been able to sleep right for the past couple of nights, although I got more rest last night than Saturday.
He used to make a certain sound to try to wake me up in the morning, or whenever he wanted me to awaken. I heard that noise the first night while trying to sleep. I can still see him in my mind around every corner and whenever I look out the window into the back yard. It’s not very surprising; I thought that something like this might happen.
I walked around the house most of the day yesterday not really knowing what to do now. I am sure that this is much like what happens to those who take care of elderly parents or other sick family members who stay as close as possible and do every thing to help that you can. I am also sure that what I am going through pales in comparison to those situations. But I will say that the bond and love that I had with, and for, this dog was as strong as any other that I had in my life.
I found a great poem that I had posted on his Facebook page but it seems to have disappeared. Here it is…
LAST NIGHT
I stood by your bed last night; I came to have a peep.I could see that you were crying you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
"It's me, I haven't left you, I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here."
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times, your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at the shops today; your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels; I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care.
I want to re-assure you, that I'm not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you; I smiled and said, "It’s me."
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.
It's possible for me, to be so near you everyday.
To say to you with certainty, "I never went away."
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew...
in the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over... I smile and watch you yawning
and say "good-night, God bless, I'll see you in the morning."
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I'll rush across to greet you and we'll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out...then come home to be with me.
- Author Unknown
 |
| Goodbye my sweet prince... |
If only more "people of God" could be agnostic... when they pray or think of the Creator of All, it might be a little more meaningful. What a great testimonial to true love - you are living up to your name... maybe "Alllove" would actually be more appropriate.
ReplyDeleteMy condolences for your loss, Marshal.
From a fellow Manlove,
Brian A.