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It
was a warm summer night in July, 1997 as I
arrived home after working the evening shift
at the hospital. I opened the side door of
our home leading into the kitchen, and there
he was. He was sitting on the floor with my
husband, all 16 pounds of him. I will never
forget the incredible disproportionate size
of his feet to the rest of his body. Looking
back now it makes me laugh. He came to me,
wanting to play; he was so excited to see
me, a stranger, but now his Mommy. His name
was Grizzly Bear.
The first year was incredible. The
joy I felt in watching him grow. I could go
on and on about the memories I have of him
that first year; his first walk, eating the
furniture, stealing food from the kitchen
counter.
In December of the following year my husband
and I went Christmas shopping and when we
returned I found my baby limping and crying
when trying to reposition himself. I
couldn’t understand what was going on or
what had happened. We took him to our vet
immediately. The vet examined him, took
x-rays, and told us he had hip dysplasia. He
would need surgery to correct this problem.
However, something didn’t feel right to
me. I took him to another vet and got same
opinion. Still, even after the second
opinion, this diagnosis did not make sense.
I made an appointment with the Ohio State
Veterinary Hospital. I was told that if my
baby needed hip surgery, this was the place
to go. Thank God for the advice. After just
5 minutes of discussion and without even
looking at the x-rays, they told me Grizzly
may have hip dysplasia, but that wasn’t
causing his limp. He had a torn cruciate
ligament. I was amazed. After Grizzly had
surgery to repair his knee, we were told
that that in time his other ligament would
likely tear also. Well, it did. He had the
same procedure on the other knee and was as
good as new.
The next few years flew by. Grizzly
developed some stiffness from his orthopedic
problems, but still remained happy and
healthy. Then in October 2003, the vet
dropped a bombshell. Grizzly had a lump on
his left hind leg. It remained about the
size of a small walnut for some time. We
took him to the vet to have it examined on
several occasions, but were always reassured
that it was just a fatty tumor. In October,
the mass seemed to change. It got larger,
and the color changed. It looked more
vascular. The vet said that since it got
bigger he would remove it, but we
shouldn’t worry, because it was just a
mass of fat cells. He was wrong. The
pathology came back; it was cancer,
histiocytic sarcoma. I still remember my
heart sink. I just couldn’t believe it.
However, I had always said that no matter
what the cost I would do whatever it took to
help my baby. I started making appointments.
First, x-rays to determine whether the
cancer had metastasized.
His x-rays looked good; it had not
yet traveled to other places in his body.
The oncologist gave me hope. Although this
type of cancer is aggressive, since it had
been localized to his leg and his tumor
margins had been clean, the oncologist
thought Grizzly was a good candidate for
radiation and chemotherapy. I drove him home
from the oncologist elated, thinking he
would get better.
We
arrived home and my baby didn’t want to
get out of the car as he could barely stand.
I had to get a towel to support his hind
legs to get him into the house. His
arthritis was progressing. He had already
been taking glucosamine supplements, but
with all the traveling over the past week,
his diseased legs just couldn’t take it. I
gave him pain medication to ease his
discomfort. Over that weekend, I did a lot
of soul searching. I laid there with my
precious pooch, trying to ask him what he
wanted to do. I didn’t realize that he had
already made the decision for me. We
concluded that he could not tolerate
traveling 4 hours one way for radiation
every day for 3 weeks due to his orthopedic
issues. Nor could he endure the intensive
chemotherapy treatment that would follow.
Grizzly and I decided to cherish each and
every moment we had left together. I am a
nurse and had experiences with patients
choosing to live their last days at home
through hospice programs. So that is what
Grizzly and I did. Since we live in a two-
story home and Grizzly was having such a
hard time walking, I bought an inflatable
mattress for him and me. For the next 6
weeks, I spent every night lying next to him
on our living room floor. Whatever he
wanted, he got. We went for small walks
around our yard; we even had a picnic in the
unexpected warm November sun. I cherished
each and every moment with him. He started
to slow down and didn’t want to go outside
and hang out in his favorite spots.
On December 9, I woke up next
to my Grizzly. I made my coffee and sat down
on the sofa. Grizzly dozed on the floor
while I petted his side. He attempted to get
up but failed in four tries. When he finally
did make it to his feet he began to cry. I
noticed his right front paw was swollen, and
he was unable to put weight on it. As I
looked into those big brown eyes, we both
knew it was time. My mom drove us to the
vet’s office, and my husband raced from
work to meet us there. I sat in the back of
the car, holding him in my arms as I had
done when he was just a pup. The vet
examined him and told us that the cancer had
spread to his bone. Either a tumor had
formed under his muscle causing pressure on
the bone, or a tumor was actually within his
bone. His bone had fractured. I then had to
make the toughest decision of my life. It
was time to let this precious creature go.
They gave him a sedative, and he fought it.
Another dose was dispensed. I lay there
beside him on the floor, my coat beneath our
heads. I held him, telling him over and over
again how much I loved him, and how sorry I
was. It was time. The vet began to
administer the drugs; I stood there at his
head, looking into his eyes, rubbing those
soft ears. He was gone.
I can’t begin to express how much Grizzly
has meant to me in his too short six and a
half years.
I look back now and realize that he was sent
to me for a reason. I truly believe God sent
him to me so that he could teach me about
life. Until he came into my life I had never
really understood what it meant to have
unconditional love. First, it was his love
for me - that unconditional love that our Rottweilers
show us, no matter what. In the end, I
learned the unconditional love that I had
for him, that although my heart still breaks
every day not having my baby with me, I
loved him so much; I had to let him go.
Grizzly,
you will forever be in my heart, I love you.
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Rottweiler
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