Originally posted on Yahoo! 360 on July 19, 2006.
A year ago today I lost one of the best friends I have ever had. My 'heart dog' Rosco. It was one of the saddest days of my life.
I know some people just think of pets as a piece of property but to me they are a part of the family. Rosco was like one of my children and losing him was very hard on all of us. I could have never asked for a more wonderful furbaby to be a part of our lives. What a short time he spent on this earth. Only 6 1/2 years :-(. He deserved so much more than that.
http://www.geocities.com/chevymom0/roscospage.html
We adopted Rosco from the Michigan Humane Society in March 1999 when he was about 3 months old. I had visited all of the local shelters for months looking for that perfect pet. Rosco was from a litter of 5 beautiful Newfie/BC/Setter mix pups that had been on a farm, raised so far in a barn. I took each one out on a leash to see if we clicked or not. Rosco was the 3rd or 4th one that I took out. He walked out nicely with me for a dog who hadn't been on a leash before. As soon as he looked into my eyes I knew he was the one. He melted my heart!
He was so easy to housebreak! Two days and he was asking to go outside by standing staring at the back door. Of course I consider housebreaking my expertise! Anyway, it was soon clear that Rosco was afraid of everything. Did he bark? Never, unless someone threatened his territory by either coming towards the yard, or knocked on the door. He never barked for no reason. In fact, he would watch in amazement the neighbors dog barking at everything that moved and probably wondered what the heck they were barking at LOL. Rosco would never leave our yard, even if the gate was open and we were there calling him. Only when you put his leash on him did he go out of the yard. He was never taught this, he just did it. Never dug a hole, never got in the garbage, never jumped up on anyone or anything, never growled at anyone, didn't have a mean bone in his body. He never even flinched all the time he has had to have blood taken or tests done. Just sat there till they were done poking and prodding him, wagged his tail and gave them a lick.
He was afraid of a lot of things. We think he may have been abused. He was scared to death of men in general, but particularly of tall men in hats. Once right after we first got him my hubby came out of the garage and caught him off guard. He had a hat on and Rosco ran so fast the other way and actually wet himself. He was also afraid of bare floors after slipping on our kitchen floor once when he was a pup. After that we had to cover every bare spot with some type of rug or he would be totally paranoid and not come in the house. He was also afraid of the stairs and never even tried to go up or down them. Every time he went out the back door he would look down as if someone were going to come and get him. He was afraid of all the rooms in the house except the kitchen and living room. For a big black 126 lb dog, he was such a chicken. He was such a good dog though, never did anything wrong in his whole life. Once he chewed a piece of paper that was blowing around the yard and that's about it. You could leave food out right in front of his him and leave the room and he wouldn't touch it.
When he was 3 years old he had a seizure and was diagnosed with idiopathic epilepsy. It was a challenge getting his meds to help and for the next 3 1/2 years he was a 24 hour a day pet. Rosco had violent seizures. They did not render him imobile. He would bounce off the walls and we would have to try and hold him down to prevent him from reaching the stairs and falling down, or knocking over furniture on himself. They were simply awful to experience. He was on many drugs to control them, but the drugs also took a toll on his body. This has been my life for the past 3 years. What time does Rosco need to take his meds, what time will I be back from wherever, Rosco has to take his meds, I can't do that, Rosco has to take his meds, don't do that, you might cause a seizure. I have bottles, and bottles of meds here. Valium, both liquid to inject rectally and pill form, phenobarbatol, potasium bromide, antibiotic, steroids, all to control the seizures. And then something totally unrelated takes his life. It's just not fair.
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You know what, despite all the challenges that were ahead of us and all the hours and heartache that disease caused, he was still the best dog I've ever had in my life.
Early in July 2005 he started having problems walking. Just a little wobbly and stiff getting up. I figured it was the heat here since it's been so hot. He didn't seem to get any better though even when it got cooler for a week or so. We even took him camping with us when we went a few weeks before he passed away. I just stayed at the campsite with him since he couldn't walk to far. We put a big blue harness on him and helped him get up, and in and out of the camper. He got worse in the days following our camping trip so I took him to the vet for a bunch of blood tests. They were looking for an infection in his spinal column or something, but didn't find anything. They did find one thing with one of his meds and that it was higher than it should be in his blood stream. I cut the dose for that one down as his vet recommended but there was no improvement. This was on Friday and his regular vet was leaving for vacation for 10 days and said by the time she got back we should know if it was from the meds and if so we should see some improvement. By Monday Rosco couldn't even stand on his own, he was not getting better. I called the vet's office and talked to another vet who had seen Rosco on occasion and asked for his advice. I knew what he would say and I know what has to be done :-(.
Remembering the end....
July 19th, 2005
Today is the day I have to say goodbye to one of the best friend's I've ever had. I wake all through the night to see if he has moved yet, but he is still in the same spot I left him when I went to bed. He can't support the weight of his own body anymore. When he tries to stand, his whole back just twists until he collapses onto the floor. I finally get up at about 6 am. He still wags his tail a little bit when he hears us coming, or talk to him, but most times he can't even pick his head up off of the floor. This is such a hard decision. Maybe tomorrow would be the day when things turned around for him and he started getting better? How do you say goodbye to someone for whom your whole life has revolved for the last 3 years? Rosco keeps trying his best to get up. I know he has to go to the bathroom, since he hasn't gone since the day before in the afternoon. He has to be ready to bust. He is such a good boy though that he doesn't want to go in the house. I put newspapers under him and give him permission to go, but he won't. Every time he tries to get up he just falls back down and collapses on his side. His elbows are raw and a bit bloody from the weight of his 126 lb body falling on them over and over. You can still see the lovely spirit in his eyes when he looks at you though, and the love in his heart.
Rich had to go to work this morning, so Jordan and I will have one last day to spend with Rosco and tell him how much we love him. I will wait to take him to the vet until Rich can come with me. There really isn't any way for me to get him into the van myself anyway. I try and get Rosco up several times throughout the day to go potty. I know he has to go as he is crying to go out and trying to head for the door himself. I just can't get him up though, he is like a 126 lb. rag doll. Finally, with Jordan's help I make a sling and we manage to get him outside, guide him to the grass so he can go pee. He still has to find a favorite spot as always. As soon as he's done he guides us to turn around and head for the back door. Wow, that was totally exhausting for all of us. I am hand feeding him, and bringing him his bowl of water. It is a very hot day and he is very thirsty. I also feed him ice. For the most part, all he can do is lay on his side. He can't even seem to lay in an upright position anymore for more than a minute. Even when he does, he can't hold his head up in the air. He's just laying there with his tongue hanging out on the floor. Every time I go in there to see him I am crying. I get on the floor with him to give him a big hug, when he hears me he picks his head up to lick my face, as if to tell me it will be okay.
The day is just dragging and flying by so fast at the same time. My last day with him is very difficult. I count the minutes till Rich is supposed to be home, yet at the same time I dread each minute ticking by. Jordan is also spending as much time as he can telling Rosco how much he loves him. Each time he comes up from the basement I can see his eyes are red and puffy from crying. I know how hard this is for him, facing the death of his best buddy and companion for the last 6 years. Jordan has decided that he doesn't want to come to the vet with us. I think actually seeing his buddy die would be too much for him to take. I did let him know that whatever he wanted to do was fine with me. I would never stop him from coming if that's what he wanted to do, and I would never tell him he had to come if he didn't want to. He decided to go to his best friend's house instead.
The time is drawing near for Rich to be home from work. The sadness is almost too much to bear.
When Rich arrives home we prepare for that drive that I am regretting with everything I am. I have a sheet ready so that we can carry him to the van since he can't stand anymore. Rich and I try to get it under him and pick him up but we just can't. Our neighbor is outside and knows what is going on and comes to help. Even with the three of us it is a struggle picking him up and getting him in the van, but we finally manage. The sheet is covered in blood from his elbows. I can't stop crying on the way there. What if I'm making the wrong decision, what if he will be better tomorrow, what if......
We arrive at the vet, they know we are coming so they have a gurney ready for us and let us in the back way. It was pretty difficult to get him down off of the gurney and into the room. He is laying comfortably on the floor now with his head on my lap. I brought his ball with us because it is his favorite thing in the world. He can't even hold it anymore but I wanted it here anyway. The vet comes in to talk to us and he can see that Rosco is really suffering. There really is no question on what needs to be done. He explains what will happen and tells us we can be there with him or not, it's up to us. I had no question in my mind that I would be there with him till the very end. Rich says he's not sure if he can remain in the room, he is crying as well. Rich had just gotten out of the hospital on Sunday after suffering a stroke. It's been an awful week for all of us. Anyway, the vet goes out to get what he needs to get. Rosco has his head on my lap and I pet him and tell him that he is the best dog that anyone ever had. I tell him how happy we are that he was a part of our lives and brought us such joy. Tears will not stop....
My days felt empty for so long after he passes. I still miss him terribly. I'm sure he is in heaven now playing with the other dogs at Rainbow Bridge. In fact, I bet he's in charge of welcoming all the other furkids LOL.
We had Rosco cremated and brought his ashes home. Here is the Urn that Rich and Jordan made for him. He rests in a place of honor on my photo shelf in the living room. We took him camping with us the month after he passed.
One of the members of my canine epilepsy group sent me this poem:
I give you this one thought to keep
I am with you still, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
When you waken in mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of
Quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not think of me as gone
I am with you still, in each new dawn.
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