He’s gone. My big boy…My constant companion for the last 10 1/2 years is gone. For the last couple of months, Major had been limping on his left front leg. Now, I knew that the circulation in that leg had been bad for at least a year. When I clipped his nails, there was just something different about the nails on that paw. They were growing funny and were brittle. But he was old. This was a new experience for me. I’ve never had a dog get old. They have always either disappeared or been hit by a car. But my man lived a sheltered life. He had no choice but to get old. And with that came the knowledge that, at some point, I was going to have a very tough decision to make.
Three years ago, he was diagnosed with hip displaysia and arthritis in his back (they only gave him a year and half…shows what they know). So when the limping started, it was just one more thing. One more sign of how old my friend was getting. He had also gone blind in his right eye. When he would go down stairs, he would go at a slight angle, I assume, so he could see better. I was convinced about the blindness when he walked right through a house plant. Then, about two weeks ago, I was bringing him in from the backyard, and I noticed that the left leg was about twice it’s normal size. We watched it for a few days. It would go down some and then get really big again. We decided that it was a circulation problem and that we needed to schedule a time to take him in…but things were busy, as usual.
Last Tuesday night, 6/10, I went outside to let the boys in and I noticed that the left side of Major’s chest was huge. Our friend, Richard, looked at him and said he thought it was cancer. After everyone left that night, I laid down on the floor with him and just loved on him. I would blow in his ear to aggravate him. I would stop petting him so he would dig his nose under my hand to get it back on his head…just like the good old days. He acted like he felt fine. He just had a really hard time getting up from the floor. And he still had so much personality. At one point, Johnathan and I were sitting on the bed, while I bawled my eyes out. He got up, walked around the bed and stopped to look at us before laying back down. He just tilted his head to the side as if to say, “What’s wrong with you? Why are you looking at me like that?” So we struggled with whether we should just wait and see if it went down or if we needed to take him in on Wednesday. Of course, both of us had crazy schedules, but we decided that it was best for Major to take him in. We took him and dropped him off for the vet to run tests. It only took about an hour for the vet to call. It was cancer. The tumor was where his neck attached to his shoulder and was cutting off the circulation. It was fairly advanced. It was also in his eye (the blind one) so it was probably some sort of lymphoma. The vet was honest and said that there were treatments; however, due to Major’s age, he was not going to push me in that direction. I wouldn’t have put him through that anyway. So after much debate, many questions, and many, many tears, we made the decision not to bring him home.
When we finally got to see him at the vet, he was slightly sedated. They had already put an IV in his leg. Johnathan, Kylie and I were all there. We just sat and loved on him for about 30 minutes. Then, the technician asked if we were ready. “Ready as I’m ever gonna be.” They sedated him more so he was already asleep before they pushed the drugs. It was very peaceful, very fast. They left us alone with him. Sitting there with his lifeless body is forever etched in my mind. I’m glad that I was there for him, but I will never forget it. It still makes me cry. And somehow, it seems wrong to be able to take a life so easily…even if it is just a dog.
I remember the first time I ever saw him. My neighbor pulled him out of his coat…a surprise replacement for his predecessor that was hit by a car. He was only 5 weeks old. Tiny little thing. I had to crush up his food for him so he could eat. And he did not like to be touched… at all. He was never a needy dog. He liked attention…and occasionally, he demanded it. But for the most part, he was happy just to be in your presence. He got me through a divorce and a couple of other relationship breakups. He was the man of the house when I was single. He “tolerated” the new husband that took his spot in the bed. And periodically, he licked the face of my most precious creation. He let us put reindeer antlers on him at Christmas, and never did eat Cole, no matter how annoyed he was. And I swear to you the dog smiled. He will forever be my favorite dog and one of my best friends. I miss him.