One year of missing Chief

It was a year ago today that I said goodbye to my sweet Chief. His ashes are on my nightstand, as he loved to curl up in the bed. 99 is back to her old self, although she still favors one side and twists a little weird when I scratch that side. Max is just happy to have his kingdom back in order. I love my babies so much. Every day I tell them that. I wish things could have been different a year ago, but what's done is done. I don't think a day goes by that I don't think of Chief. Today, thinking of him is a little painful. Anniversaries are like that, I guess. The two posts below are from one year ago today and tomorrow. They are the best way to share what happened.

March 30, 2009

Today has been a bad day….no, strike that, today has been a horrible day. This morning, Chief, my youngest and biggest dog attacked 99 my oldest and smallest. I think he was trying to protect me, as 99 grumbled when I got her to let go of a piece of paper that she had. The second she grumbled, Chief was on her. The attack lasted for what seemed like forever, but was probably 10 minutes. He would not let go. I beat on him with a broomstick, pulled on him, yelled at him, threw water at him. Nothing worked. By the time it was over, my house was covered in blood and 99 could barely move. I rushed her to the vet and she is being observed. They are concerned he may have nicked her jugular, as she is bleeding into her throat. She is on huge doses of morphine, and they are watching and waiting.

This was not the first time that Chief attacked. Almost 2 years ago, he went after Max, my middle dog. Max required emergency surgery to save his life. I refused to give Chief up, so I made due. I structured my life so that Max and Chief were always separated. When they had to be together, like in the car, they both had on basket muzzles. I sacrificed in a number of ways, so that I would not have to give up Chief.

This time, I couldn't sacrifice any more. It was pretty obvious that Chief would not be adoptable. He was a danger to other dogs. Frankly, I was, for the first time, afraid for what could happen to me if he turned on me. I made the most difficult decision of my life and brought Chief in to be euthanized.

It was the worst thing I’ve ever been through. He ate treats out of my hand right up until his last breath, and then I just held him and cried. I feel like someone has torn out my heart. Chief was such a lover to me. He showered me with kisses every moment of the day, and his tail wagged so hard that the staff at the vet’s where I’d board him always said he left bruises from his tail wagging. He loved to curl up at my feet and would push my hand with his muzzle if the rubbing and petting stopped for too long. The bottom line is he just plain loved me. No matter what, good day or bad, he loved me. It doesn’t seem right that I could make the decision to end that love, but I did and now I have to live with that. There are all sorts of reasons that friends and family tell me I did the right thing. I’m not sure I believe any of them. I just know that I wish today would start over and everything would have been different.

As he took his last breath, I told him I loved him and that we’d be together again. I hope I was right.

March 31, 2009

Last night was rough. I brought 99 home from the vet and she was in lots of pain. The vet thought it best that she be at home where she would be less stressed. She said the first 72 hours would be touch and go. So, 99 came home and dropped to the floor a few feet inside the front door. She stayed there for the next 12 hours, crying. It just hurt to watch her. Her breathing was fast and she cried with each breath. I gave her the pain meds and prayed that she would get some peace. I spent the night between my bed and the couch, sleeping an hour in the bed and then laying on the couch and softly petting her head. She just kept crying. I covered her with a blanket and gave her a little pillow for her head. She wouldn’t eat or drink the water I left for her.

In the morning, she finally moved from her spot in front of the front door and drank some water. I was thrilled, she was drinking water. She wouldn’t eat, except for the peanut butter I was feeding her from my fingers. She was also not crying any more. She looked haggard and old, and swollen. But she was still my girl. This afternoon, we went back to the vet for a change of her pressure bandages. God, there was so much blood. When the bandages came off, I got to see the true extent of the damage. She is torn up, and her neck, shoulders, and one side are swollen huge. There are gashes everywhere. The spot on the front of her neck where the blood pooled is the size of a softball. My baby is in rough shape.

The Dr was pleased that the bleeding appears to have stopped. 99’s gums were nice and pink and surprisingly through all of this, her tail was wagging. Every single person working there popped their head in to see how she was doing. Everyone loves 99. They all said the same, she is such a good girl, she is such a lover, she is the sweetest dog. They were all right. She is all of those things. She came into my life when I was just restarting it. Newly sober, and without many friends she rescued me. She was my companion when I felt alone, she pushed her way into my life and it has never been the same since. Her wagging tail is a given at any time on any day. Her pain these past few days has been hard for me to watch, because she deserves a life free from it.

The Dr says I need to keep an eye on her for infection. She gave me some high calorie prescription food, which 99 is loving. She can have as much as often as she wants. Right now, she is sleeping on the floor, and hopefully, she will continue throughout the night.

So, I am optimistic for 99 and her recovery. She has a road ahead of her, but she is walking it, and she won’t be alone. Still, the house is so very quiet. Chief is still in my head and my heart. Last night while I was sleeping there was barking. I kept telling Chief to settle down until I finally realized it was Maxwell….that hit me. This morning, I was so focused on 99 that I was able to pull myself together and go to work for a few hours. Half way there, Chief would not get out of my head, so I arrived at work with red eyes and an aching throat. My coworkers gave me a very nice card on the loss of a pet, and that wrecked me. I picture Chief now, nudging my hand while I am trying to type. He did that all the time and it used to annoy the hell out of me. How many times did I tell him to go lay down? How many times did I push his head away so I could work? How many times did he run around the house like a madman, wagging tail knocking things over and off shelves? The house was never quiet with Chief around. And yet now it is. It is so very quiet. Max and 99 are older, and just not spastic like Chief was. They love quietly and softly, while he loved loudly and hard. I’ve been very fortunate, so many friends wishing me and 99 well. So many people understanding. I guess my head knows the deal. Unfortunately, my heart is going to take awhile….soon….I hope…