I had to put my dog down today....

ZEUS

God, it's just been a really crap day for me. I'm still feeling yucky from having the cold/flu thing that I've got, but on top of it all I had to take my favorite dog and have him put to sleep today.

It would have been his 14th birthday in 2 days, and I've had him since he was 8 weeks old. I rescued him from an abusive military home where the guy had been beating him and his brothers and sisters since they were born. His wife had called my Vet in tears explaining the situation, and the vet who was a friend, called me, as she knew I'd been looking to find a male chow chow to go along with my female chow chow.

When I brought him home he was like a little miniature bear cub, all wrinkles and fuzzy fur. He was adorable. That night when my then boyfriend came over to visit, Zeus took one look at him, and peed himself, and ran away. It was obvious he was just going to make this association that men are bad.

It was really tough going between Zeus and my husband right from the start. Zeus was my fierce defender, and couldn't sometimes understand us "wrestling" lol, and he'd get his heckles up. It took at least a year before he stopped wetting himself every time any guy was around, and as he got older, and bigger, it would be hard to take him out, because he'd either be cowering around strange men, or trying to strain at the leash to attack them.

Throughout all of this though, he loved me so much, and just constantly wanted to shower me with kisses, or lay on my feet.

When both chows were about 3 years old, we decided to have them spayed/neutered while we went overseas to visit my family for a week at Xmas. We put them into the only "hospital" that also did boarding, and left them.

As I got off the plane a week later, my cell phone rang and my MIL asked to speak to my husband. She was calling to tell him that my female chow chow had died while under the care of the animal hospital, and she hadn't wanted to call us the day it happened. Apparently, even though I'd paid them 3 times the regular rate (because it was Xmas, and I wanted to make sure both my dogs were walked and played with 3 times a day), and they had assured me they would, she "ate" through her stitches, and kept eating until she'd eaten her own stomach lining.

It was awful. I actually had to be sedated when I looked in the "drawer" to say goodbye to her. My MIL had told them on the phone that they'd better not dispose of the body until I got there.

Poor Zeus, looked like a war torn trauma victim, and was in shock in this awful concrete cage, where they'd been hosing him down with freezing cold water, so he was wet, shaking and scared out of his mind. It was an awful awful day. There went all the work I'd put forth for the previous 3 years, helping him to overcome his fears.
So it was just the three of us.

As the years went on, I purchased a female yellow lab for my husband's birthday about a year later. About 3 years after that we fell in love with this gorgeous yellow male lab and bought him.

At 5 months old, he got our female pregnant (even though our vet had assured us we didn't have to worry, as he wasn't "mature" enough yet...) so 63 days later we had our first litter of Labrador pups. Zeus totally didn't know what to make of them, and as soon as they were able to walk/run, they would chase him all over the house. He would lay down with them and groom them, it was soooo sweet.

So fast forward to today - we have a 5 year old male lab, and 8 year old female lab, and we had Zeus. We also have two toddlers, who he was soooo sweet with. He would lay next to their bassinet anytime he could. He would go out of his way gently to make sure he didn't knock them down, unlike our labs who barrel past them like a tornado, always knocking them down.

Right before Xmas Zeus attacked my husband, badly....

Me and the kids had been at the gym, and my hubbie was getting ready to go to a game, and running late. As he was loading up his truck, Zeus wandered outside. Being that he's a chow chow, and hates guys, he certainly didn't want to listen when hubby told him to get back in the house. So... my husband grabbed at his collar, and Zeus went for him, giving him a warning nip on one hand. That was too much for my husband to take, and he pushed the dog down to the ground forcefully, yelling at him, and as he again grabbed his collar to drag him in the house, Zeus lost it, and attacked him.

My husband had his cell phone in his pocket and called me.. he was spurting blood everywhere, and he actually thought he might not make it. He'd called 911 first. He was basically ringing to tell me he loved me, and the kids, and to say goodbye.
I must have ran 4 red lights that day, all the while getting my husband to stay lucid and on the phone - he was laying in our front yard, and he could barely talk. I pulled onto my street just as the ambulance was about ready to leave. They told me were they were taking him, and told me to follow.

As I walked up my path, it was like a scene from a movie, there was blood all over my front door, and the steps, tons of it - I don't think I've ever seen that much blood in real life.

Anyway, I made it to the hospital, while my best friend cleaned up the mess and looked after the kids. When I got there the outlook wasn't bright. He had severe tendon damage, and the various puncture wounds were so deep that you could look down into them. They talked about him possibly losing his hand, and definitely needing plastic surgery.

It was a nightmare. On one hand I wanted to blame him for being rough with the dog, and on the other, I realized that the dogs issues were major, and not to mention we now had two babies to think about. I also remember thinking, omg what if this guy that I love so much dies.

He had to go to the hospital daily for 2 weeks to get the bandages changed twice a day. He was on major drugs for about 4 weeks for the pain. He had to sleep with his arm above his head, and try during the day to keep it above his heart as often as possible to help the massive swelling and bleeding to stop.

During the 3rd week, we got the word from the plastic surgeon that he wasn't going to lose his hand, but he would definitely have nerve damage from it. They brought me in to show me how to do all the cleaning, and coverings so I could do it at home. That first night I had to do it, I actually unwrapped his hand, and suddenly the room was spinning and I fainted.

I'd never actually looked at it before, but it was GROSS. Ooozing yellow crap, and wide open holes that I could literally see right into. I had to wash it, dry it, put the ointments on, and then take this stuff that I had to cut up, and lay directly over each wound. Then I had to put gauze pads on top of those. Then I had to wrap the gauze strips around his hand, put the splint on, and then there were two different wraps that went on top of that. We had to buy tons of this stuff, cause he was still bleeding and oozing stuff all over it. It was a nightmare. It was also Xmas, and his family were coming into town.

I would feel bad that I hadn't already taken the dog to get him put down, but it was the holiday's and I just couldn't do it. January came and went, and I just thought if we didn't mention it, it would be ok. My husband avoided the dog at all costs.

I just kept telling myself that I'd do it soon.... until last night... my son tripped over him while running away from his sister, and the chow attacked him. He went to bite him on the face, but didn't pierce the skin. Obviously a "warning nip" or it was because I was sitting right there. Who knows?

I couldn't take another chance though. I'd never be able to live with myself if he'd mauled one of the kids.

So today was the day. When I took him out of the truck, he started shaking. It was like he knew this wasn't going to be good. When we went inside, he tried desperately to get me to leave again. The vet allowed me to come into the room and be with him, so while I held his head, and hung onto him, they stuck him with a needle, and sedated him, until he lost all power of his muscles, and he just laid down on my feet.

They then picked him up and tried giving him the stupid lethal injection in his front paws - but because he's 70lbs and sturdy, and furry as a big bear, they couldn't get it in the vein. So all the time I'm holding his face and talking to him, and all he can do is lick me... because he's so drugged up, and probably scared shit-less. They realise that it's not going to work, and they decide they have to put it straight into his heart. They rolled him over, and essentially stabbed the needle through his chest. It was awful.

When they did it, they said he'd give one big last sigh, as he expelled all the air out, but even though they said his heart had stopped, he was still fighting & panting to get air in his lungs... and it seemed to take a really long time... As I looked at him, I realised that even though his eyes had been open during all of this, and they were still open, that he was definitely dead.

God I can't believe I'm writing this. Anyway, it was tough, and I've just had a rough day with it. I had to go there by myself and leave without part of me. 14 years is a long time, and I don't even know if I did the right thing. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm mad at my husband. I've been crying all day, and I guess falling asleep from the sheer exhaustion of it all.

I think I've been in a funk since Xmas because I just didn't want to do this. I didn't want to kill my dog, and I didn't want to "choose" between the dog, my kids and my husband. I'm totally stressed out about the whole thing.