<Sorry, just couldn’t shorten this narrative any further…>
Twelve and one-half years ago, our youngest daughter convinced us it was time to have a dog again. We’d lost our German Shepherd to cancer and two months later, we lost our Schnauzer to a different cancer. Three years had passed…
We decided on another German Shepherd. The puppy was 55 miles away and 10 weeks old, but the price was really good and he was full-blooded, with papers. So we decided to go look. He immediately took to our girls and they to him. The first night, as we were debating names, we noticed that whenever anyone left the room, he followed them – like a shadow, right on their heels. And that became his name – Shadow.
I’ve been around five German Shepherd puppies, and I’ve noticed something. They are terrors, very destructive and hard to control…until they turn three years old. Then, amazingly, almost exactly on their third birthday, it’s like somebody flipped a switch and they go, “Oh, I get it…” Then, they are great dogs! For the most part anyway. Shadow was still a little headstrong on occasion.
He was a German German-Shepherd, meaning that his DNA roots were in the “old country.” From what breeders and veterinarians have told me, they tend to be larger and more even-tempered than the American breed for some reason. He was a beautiful dog – well-proportioned, gentle, and at 124+ pounds, quite large for the breed. That was also the problem.
As a rule, the larger the dog, the shorter the lifespan. (See also, “Puppy Love”, posted May 17, 2016.) As Shadow’s health began to deteriorate, we started spending more time at the vet’s. During one visit, I mentioned Shadow being nearly twelve years old and about like an 84-year-old man. The vet corrected me. His comment was that because Shadow was a Shepherd and a large one at that, he was more closely equivalent to a man of 100 years! At the next visit, he remarked on Shadow’s changed gait and he felt that it was not only hip dysplasia, but he was also showing indications of neuropathy. He was very clear that the pain associated with hip and muscle degeneration can be treated for a time, and it might extend Shadow’s life some, but that nothing could be done about the neuropathy, if his diagnosis was accurate. His prediction was that Shadow would be gone within the year, possibly much sooner, based somewhat on the degeneration of his hips, loss of strength and muscle mass in the back legs, but primarily on the nerve degeneration. I asked, “So, realistically, are we looking at six months…?” “Maybe…”
Here we are, six months later. In the past couple of weeks, Shadow deteriorated much more quickly. His front legs were still strong, and his mind was still sharp, but his bark was often weak and not the deep, strong, robust sound it had always been. It was like he didn’t have the strength or lung capacity to consistently produce that sound. To me, it seemed his eyesight and hearing had been slowly fading for several months. He was beginning to have difficulty standing up. He started to pull himself short distances with his front legs, letting the back ones drag. But he would stand and limp for longer distances.
The vet had warned me that it could happen overnight, that suddenly he would not be able to stand. That happened as predicted and one day, I had to help him get around by using a towel to lift his back legs (a great technique for carrying or lifting a large dog, by the way) and carry them while he walked on his front ones. After evaluating Shadow’s behavior for a few days, and knowing it would never improve for more than minutes at a time, the appointment was made for his final trip to the vet.
My daughter’s boyfriend had developed a very strong bond with Shadow and suggested a ‘send-off’ meal like Shadow had never eaten. ‘People food’ is generally not the best for dogs – it’s arguably not the best for people – so we had not fed Shadow scraps or portions of table food. Although he did get things like raw carrots, and other vegetables. He respected that and never attempted to get our food…after he got in trouble for stealing pepperoni pizza off of the table a couple of times and sneaking half a package of Andes chocolate mints, wrappers and all, before he was three. He abstained even though his chin was above the level of the dining room table while standing on all fours. He did not hesitate to eat the McDonald’s Quarter-Pounder with cheese, completely wrapped in a half-pound of fried bacon strips, served with fries and scrambled eggs, followed by BlueBell vanilla ice cream!
People who’ve been around dogs very much, know they have a strong sense of dignity and self-respect and want to be treated that way. It is very difficult to watch a member of your family for over a decade begin losing that. He could no longer walk on his own most of the time, he frequently lost control of his bowels and despite the fact he was on a couple of strong prescription medications, it was obvious he was in a lot of pain much of the time. As a friend of mine put it, dogs have a remarkable ability to hide pain, so when they show it, you know it’s severe…
I’ve had dogs most of my life and being forced to decide to end their life is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do. I’ve had to do that three times and Shadow’s long, painful struggle is over now.
My middle daughter sent me a picture of a sign that sums it all up…
“Do not cry because it’s over, Smile because it happened.”
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