Saying goodbye is never easy. Whether it comes as a shock or is something that is expected, it is still a difficult set of emotions to go through. It becomes increasingly difficult when you make the choice to say goodbye, even when it's the right decision.
On Friday November 16th, I got a call from my parents. Ozzie, our family dog of 14 years, was in bad shape. He had been in bad shape for awhile and most recently his paws started bleeding. His quality of life had truly diminished and it was really hard for my parents to take care of him. My parents had decided to have him put to sleep on Saturday November 17th. I knew it was the right decision and it was most certainly sad, but I was not ready for just how difficult it was going to be. I canceled all my plans and headed to Milwaukee on Saturday morning.
I really didn't want to go. I didn't want to see Ozzie and be upset and go through the whole experience. I wanted to remember him as the fun, hopeful and wonderful dog that he was. But, when times are tough, you need to be there for your family. And so I showed up Saturday morning at my parent's place.
I came in and Ozzie was just laying in the dining room. He used to be at the door jumping all over you when you walked through it. I went in and petted him for a bit and he lifted up his head to greet me. He was looking pretty sad until my dad came downstairs. In an instant, Ozzie was on his feet and at my dad's side. Dogs really are man's best friend.
My aunt Carol came over and spent some time with Ozzie as well. My dad made him pancakes and Ozzie practically inhaled them. It was hard to believe that he needed to be put to sleep. But then, he'd have his moments where he would fall down or have trouble standing and walking. And there were the bloody paw prints on the garage floor. It was clear that Ozzie's body was definitely giving in, even if his spirit was still kicking.
We took some final pictures with Oz and packed him up in the car to head to the vet. My aunt Carol said goodbye and it was a pretty emotional moment. The car ride to the vet was normal. We talked about normal things, I think to avoid discussing the inevitable. We arrived at the vet around 1130am. Ozzie didn't want to get out of the car, nor did he want to go inside. I don't think he realized what was happening, but his last experience at the vet wasn't too pleasant.
The vet was really nice and it was a small local clinic. We took Ozzie into the exam room and my dad put him up on the table. I turned around and left. I just couldn't take it. I couldn't watch. It only took a few minutes and my parents called me into the room. I didn't really want to see Oz like that and felt bad that I couldn't stay in there with my family. I broke down the instant I saw my parents and apologized for not being there for them. I got to pet Ozzie one last time. He just looked like he was sleeping. I imagined he'd be all stiff or cold, but he wasn't. He was still warm and soft.
We left the vet soon after and I called my brothers. It was really hard to tell them about it, because it was really sad. Ozzie had been a big part of our lives for so many years. It was the same as losing a family member. We all knew it was the right thing given the condition he was in, but that didn't make it any less sad. And it certainly didn't make it easier to deal with.
Ozzie was the best. He was always hopeful that you'd give him food off your plate. He always sat and looked at you with those big brown eyes saying 'Please, please drop something on the floor'. Whenever he got off his leash, he'd make a break for it. And he was always hard to catch. In later years though, he didn't run as far or as fast. He always wanted someone to pet him. If you were on the computer or at the kitchen table, he'd come and take his nose, tuck it under your arm and bump your arm up. That was his way of saying 'Pay attention to me!'.
He knew the difference between the front door, back door and garage door and what each one meant. The front door usually meant he was going for a W-A-L-K. The back door meant his usual bathroom trip and the garage door meant a ride in the C-A-R. He loved car rides and going on vacation with my parents in the truck. He was truly my dad's best buddy. He loved hanging out with my dad and going wherever he went. Ozzie even came to see me at my 3rd marathon. My parents brought him to Chicago wearing his 'mountain dog' bandanna (courtesy of my father). He was very well-behaved, even in the big crowds.
Sure, the Oz man had his moments, but he was a great addition to our family. He'll always be in our hearts and memories. He was simply the best.
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