Doggone It!

Many of us grew up with a pet, whether it was a dog, cat, hamster, or even a fish in an aquarium. My younger brother and I had several dogs and cats, never both at the same time. The dogs would all die of distemper because my parents couldn’t afford to get the shots necessary to keep them healthy.

Now, let’s jump ahead for several years. I’m married and have a ten-year-old son and an eight-year-old daughter. My wife comes home from work one day and says a co-worker has a three-month-old male German Sheppard to give away (their daughter no longer wants it). So, off we go to look at the dog and determine if he would be a good fit for our snug little family. My children had to promise they would take care of him.

We arrived at the co-worker’s home, and she and her husband escorted us out to the backyard to meet their pet, whom they named Caesar. He seemed unfriendly and shy and was reticent to have us approach him, but after stroking his coal-black hair for a few minutes, he warmed to our presence. I glanced at my children, and their eyes were dancing like fireflies on a moonless night. Yes, we took Caesar home with us.

He lived with us for seventeen years and brought us so much joy. His home was in our chain-link fenced backyard for most of those years, always having a ball in his mouth that he wanted us to throw across the yard so he could scamper after it and bring it back to us with pleading eyes, repeating the ritual over and over. I would come home from a hard day’s work and walk out on our backdoor stoop, and he was always there, tail wagging, eyes bright, and a look of pure delight on his face. He was always glad to see me. I would sit down on the steps, and he would place himself between my legs, waiting to be petted and loved.

Let’s skip ahead to his 17th year with our family; our children are adults, long gone from home, and Caesar is dealing with the problems of extreme old age (119), and life is a struggle for him. Finally, I decided it was time for my longtime friend to find peace. Our next-door neighbor is a veterinarian, so I reluctantly walk over to his home and tell him what I want him to do. He immediately agrees, saying he’ll be over in 20 minutes, and I head back to the house and attempt to explain it to two sad eyes staring back at me. I tell him how much I love him and ask his forgiveness for what is about to happen.

The Vet arrives in a few minutes, carrying his black bag with everything in it he will need to carry out my request to end Caesar’s life. He politely asked me to hold Caesar’s head as he inserted the needle with the life-taking chemicals. My precious dog looked at me with eyes that were so trusting, as if asking me, “What’s happening?” He dropped to the ground immediately, lifeless, physically no longer a part of our family.

Tears streamed down my face. My beloved dog was gone, and I, alone, was deeply saddened by his death. The Vet gathered his tools, put them in his black bag, said he was sorry for my loss, and walked solemnly across the yard towards his house. I buried Caesar in a wooded area of our property, placing a small wooden cross near his head. Caesar’s death was almost forty years ago, and he still crosses my mind occasionally. Some people say that dogs don’t go to Heaven, but I can’t imagine it without my faithful dog there with me if I make it. Maybe I’ll take a few tennis balls with me so we can play his favorite game, doggone it!