I met the love of my life back in 2004. Matt and I saw an ad in the paper and went to "just look" on a whim... about an hour later I was calling my dad begging for $1000 to buy a puppy. My dad said that if I would buy him a Harley, he'd buy me the puppy... I agreed and went to pick out my new friend. The first round of "just looking" the breeders didn't want to get the puppies out to play, I forget the reason, but anyway - I just had to look at them all in a playpen and kind of decide which one I liked. They were all fat little butterballs of wrinkles, how do you decide? I knew I wanted a boy so that narrowed it down. I had my eye on a certain puppy that later that evening wanted nothing to do with me. They let them out so we could watch them play and see how they reacted to us. We knew Slug was the one when he went over and intentionally knocked over the breeders beer and then licked it all up off the ground. I loved him because he was fat and wrinkly, Matt loved him because he made me happy, and he had a white marking in the shape of a "championship belt".
He was the perfect pet, he hardly ever had accidents in the house from the first day we had him. I told Matt that I wanted a pet that would play with toys... none of my other dogs were interested in balls, or squeaky toys. Slug loved toys. He would play with anything ... and I mean anything! His favorite toys turned out to be his rubber duck, his squeaky crab and elephant, and most recently, the water bottle toy. The crab was hands down the favorite. We could say "Slug get your crab" and he would go searching for it. He was really an amazing dog all around - he knew when I was happy, he knew when I was sad. He was my shoulder to cry on when my dad passed away in 2005, he also listened to every little mumbled gripe I had when Matt and I would argue.
Slug was always pretty active for his breed, everyone expected him to be lazy... and it almost seemed like he was only lazy for a short period when he was really young. He loved fetching his toy and then not giving it back right away, running through the grass, and sunbathing. Up until recently we had not had to deal with very many major health issues. He always had some allergy problems and chronic ear infections, but after a quick trip to the vet he was usually back to his old self pretty quickly. In April I noticed one night that he seemed like he was having trouble urinating - after an emergency trip to the vet, we learned that he had stones in his bladder and urethra. He went through an emergency surgery and barely came out of the anesthesia. We brought him home a sleepless week later and vowed that as soon as he was healed we'd go to petco.
A few days later, he seemed like he was feeling good, so off to Petco we went.. Slug picked out his new water bottle toy, thats shaped like a snake but you put an empty bottle inside and then they can chew on it and it makes a ton of noise.... good stuff. As soon as he found it he grabbed it and headed for the door. We stopped him to let a woman tell us how cute he was, and then Matt took him to the side while I paid for his new toys. We promised another trip there soon, but we never made it.
I noticed again that Slug was having trouble urinating and I felt like I had swallowed a brick. The vet had warned us that the stones would probably come back, but we didnt talk much about what that meant. We had been feeding Slug only his prescription food, with an occasional (vet approved) carrot for a treat. We thought the food was doing its job to keep the stones away. I took Slug back to the vet, praying it was an easy fix. The vet checked him out and told me that Slug was completely blocked again with stones, they had moved down into his urethra again and I only had a few options. The options were to either do the surgery again, risk the anesthesia issues - and Slug might have a month until the stones would be back making him sick and miserable again. That would be the last surgery he could have, when the stones came back again (and he assured us they would) then there would be too much scar tissue to operate again. Our other option was to take him home and say goodbye, and bring him back in the morning to be sent to
Rainbow Bridge.
I felt like I didnt have much of a decision, why put my poor baby through the stress of surgery, with the possibility that he'd not wake up from it... only to say goodbye in a few weeks? While one side of me was saying "Yeah but one month is better than one night!" I knew in my heart that I would only be doing that for myself, to selfishly hold on to him for a little while longer. I brought Slug home and we called all the people that were very close to him. We went and visited my sister, my granny, and then we came home and people came over to see him, pet him, say goodbye. I wouldn't believe how many of our friends were very sad and came over right away to see Slug. I just couldn't stop crying, knowing what was going to happen. We tried to feed him some junk that we had been denying him for the past few months, but he was already sick and didn't want anything. He just kept trying to pee and he couldn't pass any urine at all. He went downhill so quickly I was shocked, I had planned on holding him in the bed all night - but that afternoon I knew I couldn't do that to him.
Matt called another vet, just for another opinion - just hoping that they would say "Oh yeah, we just got this new magic medicine, come right in we'll fix him up!" but we got the exact same report from her.
Slug and I went to lay in the big bed while Matt called our vet. I laid and stared into his big eyes... petting his back and telling him how much I love him. He just laid there and stared back, telling me how much he loved me. Matt told the vet that he was declining quickly - and he told us he'd come to the office that evening and call when he was on his way. That left us not really knowing how long we had... so I just tried to lay there forever.
The vet called back some time later and said he'd meet us in ten minutes. We took Slug and loaded him in the back seat of the truck and took him to the office. I got in the back seat, pulled his face down eye to eye with me and said "I love you more than anything". Then we went inside, we told him he was going to get a shot and then he'd feel much better... and we didn't lie. Matt put him on the table told him he was a good boy, and it was all over within seconds, he just went to sleep.
This has been the hardest time of my life. I'm not sure if its magnified because I'm pregnant and hormonal - but I'm pretty sure its just a life changing event. A day hasn't passed in a week and a half since we said goodbye that we havent cried, and recalled memories of our special guy. Every part of my day reminds me of Slug and I have to choke back the tears. I still expect to hear him walking through the house, or squeaking a favorite toy... I cant stand this house without him.
For now there's a framed picture on the table, so that he can still beg every time we eat - there's another right beside my bed where he liked to sleep - but pictures aren't helping. I'm trying to look ahead, but for now I just want to look in the past, when I was unbelievably happy with the best dog in the world.
