Doc 14-010

September 11, 2022:

Doc turned 13 on Sunday, August 28th. He was four and a half when he got him on
Super Bowl Sunday 2014, from GRRoW, just like Rosie. No better dog than Rosie, or
so we thought until Doc entered our lives. They were both extraordinary. We were and, remain, so fortunate and forever grateful to have these two wonderful dogs, all thanks
to GRRoW and its dedicated volunteers.
We had Doc for eight years and seven months. All the while, our home was a happy
dog house. We can’t thank Journeys Home Pet Euthanasia enough for helping us say goodbye to Doc.
We knew that Doc had mobility issues. A year earlier, we thought we might lose him. At times, he had trouble getting up, and once on his feet, his hind legs wouldDoc turned 13 on Sunday, August 28th. He was four and a half when he got him on
Super Bowl Sunday 2014, from GRRoW, just like Rosie. No better dog than Rosie, or
so we thought until Doc entered our lives. They were both extraordinary. We were and
remain so fortunate and forever grateful to have these two wonderful dogs, all thanks
to GRRoW and its dedicated volunteers.
We had Doc for eight years and seven months. All the while, our home was a happy
dog house. We can’t thank Journeys Home Pet Euthanasia enough for helping us say
goodbye to Doc.
We knew that Doc had mobility issues. A year earlier, we thought we might lose him. At times, he had trouble getting up, and once on his feet, his hind legs would shake, give
way, and he would collapse on the floor. After several visits and x-rays, the Lakeview Clinic diagnosis: torn ligament, right stifle;
dysplasia and osteoarthritis, left him. Surgery suggested, but at substantial cost, long recovery and no guarantee he would get any better.
Seeking a second opinion, we went to HEAL Integrative Veterinary Center. Similar
diagnosis and options. With meds Lakeview prescribed, therapy HEAL suggested, and
and weight loss due to smaller servings, he soon rallied.
Sadly, his dog park days were over. At his last Lakeview checkup in May, all was well. He was aging gracefully. He did need help getting in and out of the car and at times up the back steps to the house, but we accepted that. He was just getting older, as were we.
In recent weeks, Doc would tire easily on regular daily walks, no matter the distance.
He no longer cared for his regular food. So we changed the menu, chicken with rice,
for example. He liked that, but was eating less. And Doc had his moments, bursts of energy as if he were years younger:
• On early morning walks, Lulu, a neighbor’s dog, would run circles around him in the
local park, and Doc would break into his golden gallop. In their excitement, she
might knock him down, but he’d get right up.
• When the next-door neighbor would let her English Cream Golden Retriever puppy out, the two would run along the fence separating them, although for Doc, it was
just a few steps.
• And then there’s Gabby, a 4-month-old Goldendoodle, who is now member of our
family, an unexpected offer made nearly a month ago, one we couldn’t refuse.
Gabby and Doc got along well, despite the age difference. They would play, although only briefly. At the end of the day, Doc needed his space.
All things considered, Doc was doing well. Then, at the end of an evening walk on Friday, September 2nd, he seemed a little disoriented. He stumbled, his hind legs gave
way, and he collapsed a short distance from the house.
Much as we tried, we couldn’t lift him up. I ran to the house to get a cart, and during
that time, he managed to get up, walk to the house and lay down in the back hallway.
Well into the night, we sat with him on the floor, soothing him, eventually calming him. In the morning, we called Lakeview, hoping see his vet. With it being the Labor Day weekend, the clinic was closed, although that wasn’t clear from its recording. Hearing nothing and fearing the worst, that Doc’s time was nigh, we called Journeys Home.
When the Journeys Home vet arrived that afternoon and examined Doc, she sensed
something more serious than his mobility issues. An abdominal exam indicated an
enlarged liver, or spleen, perhaps both. That and irregular heartbeat, well over 100. A trip to the emergency clinic, for blood work, x-rays, more tests was an option. That said, she didn’t expect him to make it through the night.
We struggled to comprehend it all. A heart arrhythmia? Imagine that, Doc, the big red
dog with such a big heart, who so easily made friends and won the hearts of everyone
he met. As difficult as it was, Joy and I knew in our hearts it was time to let him go.
Our hearts were broken that day, and our hearts ache day by day. Yes, we have little
Gabby, the Goldendoodle pup who joined the family recently. But there is no replacing.
Nor would we burden Gabby with that. If time heals all wounds, then we need to increase the dosage. Not that we want to accelerate our days, for we’re already on the far side of life. One remedy is to keep busy, stick to our daily routine. All to no avail. Surely many of you who have lost a
much-loved pet can relate to the following:
• One of us was always up early to make coffee, and Doc would soon follow for a
good rub behind the ears, then saunter off and wait for his morning walk.
• Make toast, and he was right there at your side. No counter surfer was he, not at all.
He would sit, wait patiently, with a look no one could resist.
• Open the freezer drawer, no matter what time of day, and Doc would look up, as if
to ask, “Are you having ice cream?” Doc loved ice cream.
• Grab the car keys to run an errand, Doc was ready to go. In the early days, it meant
a wild ride to the dog park. More recently, it often was a trip to the house of family
or friends. Doc loved to go for rides, head out the window, enjoying the breeze. Always ready to go, anywhere and nowhere. If he couldn’t ride along, he had the
saddest look as we slowly closed the back door, leaving him behind.
As the day progresses, it seems anything and everything you do invariably prompts
thoughts of the constant companion no longer present.
And of course, going through all manner of things Doc doesn’t help, not that the intent is to forget, it’s to cope: toys, tennis balls and launcher; collars, leashes, dog tags; all of his records, trips to the vet, his adoption papers, surrender form signed by his previous owner. How could anyone give up a dog like Doc? As GRRoW fosters, we know his backstory. That our good fortune came at the great misfortune of others creates
feelings of guilt, even to this day. And doubly so, since we were raised and remain
Roman Catholics.
And of course, there are so many photos taken over the years. One image that remains
in my mind is a photo I didn’t take, couldn’t, much as I wanted to: Doc, at peace,
wrapped in a Journey’s Home blanket with a colorful dog biscuit pattern, his stuffed
animal, Gray Squirrel, and a tennis ball tucked inside with him.
“Such a sweet boy,” the Journey’s Home vet said.
We are so grateful to GRRoW, not only for Doc, but Rosie, too. Our thanks to all
involved, Sandra Lynne, Cheryl, and Butch; also Mary Helinski, the foster coordinator,
and Judy Chilson, our dog advocate for Doc.
And as one day follows another, we find peace and comfort in the verse of Mary Oliver, ,this among other poems in her Dog Songs book. The poem, “If Your Are Holding This
Book,” reads as follows:
“You may not agree, you may not care, but if you are holding this book you should
know that of all the sights I love in this world — and there are plenty — very near the
top of the list is this one: dogs without leashes.”
Doc, forever off leash, free to run with Rosie on the other side of the rainbow bridge.
Dick & Joy Jones