My Best Friend

Another blast from the past…

A friend of a friend (well, he’s not really a friend, but that’s beside the point) had to have their dog put to sleep recently… and he wrote a blurb about it. Reading it reminded me of my own experience in putting a pet to sleep.

Rebel was a pure bred dalmatian, liver spotted, with one blue eye and one brown eye. I know everyone says this, but Rebel was one of the friendliest dogs ever… unless he had to play the protector, then you had to watch out.

We first got Rebel, actually, the man who would be my step-dad first got Rebel when I was about 7… he and my mom got together shortly there-after, so I pretty much grew up with him, and he was pretty much my best friend. Through grade school, middle school, and high school he was there when I came home, waiting by the door with that whip of a tail flying back and forth. (we had to make sure the breakable ornaments were above tail height when it came time to decorate the Christmas tree.)

I could go on for pages and pages with stories about Reb… about his hiding behind the lilac bushes to sneak up on birds (then stashing them in the window well), about his returning to our old house after a move, and not letting the new occupants near the front door, about how at times my mom would call me Rebel instead of Rob, or how when I’d be home from school sick, he would lay by the foot of the couch as I sat there watching TV and not budge until mom got home from work. Through numerous moves, and 4 different schools in as many years, Rebel was a constant. A wonderful, furry, playful constant.

Yup, I have lots of wonderful memories of Rebel.. to this day I carry a picture of him in my wallet.

After high school I moved out to go to college at the U of MN. I lived on campus that year, and while I don’t remember the date, I do remember how I felt when I got home and had a message to call mom. When I called home, I was told that Rebel was in the hospital, he had slipped down the steps and hurt his back. They didn’t know how bad it was, just that he couldn’t walk. The vets said he didn’t break his back but that a slipped disk was pinching the spinal cord, so he was paralyzed.

After talking to the vet, they decided against trying surgery. At his age (he was almost 11) the surgery may do more harm than good. But instead of giving up, the vets gave him cortizone shots to see if that would reduce the swelling enough to take the pressure off the spinal cord. After that, well.. we’d have to wait and see.

As soon as the vet would allow it, I went down to visit Rebel. I remember walking down the stairs to where the kennels where… his was right around the corner… and just like he always knew when I was about to come home, his head was lifted, his ears perked as he greeted me. He still had no use of his hind legs, and his whipping tail was un-characteristically still.

I don’t know how long I sat there by the kennel, petting him, talking to him, just being with him (because of working and school, I didn’t get home to see him or the family much). I couldn’t stay long,vet’s orders, so I reassured Reb that he’d be home soon, and I’d be by to visit him again.

Now anyone who’s had a dog knows that their dog understands them when they talk. Maybe not the exact words, but they know the meaning behind your words, the feelings. Conversely, you get to know your dog and his language. I thought I knew Rebel, all his barks, whines, the look in his eyes.

But the sound he made, the way he looked as I turned to go back up those stairs that day… I could never describe it, but I will never forget it. Hearing him as I left, it was the first time it crossed my mind that I may never see him again.

Happily tho… the cortizone worked. It reduced the swelling, and was soon up and walking. The vet expected him to be down for at least a couple weeks, but he was home in less than one. He still had a long ways to go. He had to be carried up and down the stairs so he could be let outside, and at best he got back maybe 75% use of his back legs, but Rebel was back home where he belonged.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. The following winter seemed to take a bit of a toll on him. Going down the stairs, he couldn’t always keep his back end from trying to overtake the front, and climbing back up them took more and more effort. I suppose it was to be expected, he was now 12, which is a decent age for dogs of that breed, his injuries seemed to hasten things along.

By the summer, things had gone from bad to worse. His use of his back legs diminished quite a bit… he had to struggle to climb into his favorite chair (which was never supposed to be his, but we had given up trying to explain that to him years earlier.) Soon after he started having problems even controlling his own.. well.. bodily functions. It was then we knew it was time.

Mom didn’t want to do it.. neither did the step-dad… sister.. no way. Which was fine. After all Rebel had done for me, I had to be there. I wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t know what was going on when I took him out back to play a few minutes, or when I got his leash and led him to the car. And it’s probably better that way.

It all happened so fast. I was in a daze as I signed the papers at the desk. Such a daze that I didn’t even notice that Rebel once again lost control and made a puddle at my feet. (I suppose looking back, I should find that part a tad ironic.) The staff was very nice… they all knew Rebel and his history, and liked him. They didn’t make us wait, just asked if I was ready and led me to one of the back rooms when I nodded.

I lifted him up onto the exam table, and the vet came in right away, I remember him talking, but not really about what. Probably explaining what the shot was he was going to give him, and how it would work. I stood there, holding Rebel’s head in my arms as the vet gave him the shot… and tho it seemed to take forever, I’m sure it was only minutes, if not seconds before he just slumped down, his eyes closed, and… was gone.

The nurse asked me something… I never heard the words, I just nodded.. and they left me alone. Me? I stood there and cried. After a few minutes, when I could see straight again, I gave him one last hug, then slipped the collar from around his neck and turned to leave.

I’ve had other pets since then… a ferret named Shadow…and currently have two cats, Panther and Tanner.. and I hope to have another dog once my schedule permits it, but I’ll never forget Reb. I have numerous pictures of him around my desk, I still have his collar and leash tucked away, and he’ll always be in my heart and memories.

Now some would say it’s foolish to get so worked up over a pet, but those are usually the people who have never had a pet. And, I know this is a departure from my usual humorous writing (not to mention a lot longer), but it’s coming up on 10 years that he’s been gone, and I still miss him.

If you’ve ever watched the syndicated shows Hercules, or Xena, you may have heard one of the characters make a comment to the effect of “The dead can hear us when we think of them.” If that’s the case, Rebel’s up there somewhere right now wagging his tail like crazy, and probably knocking something off the coffee table in the process.

miss ya pup.

-r

originally presented 1997-AUG-06