Why?

As the week concluded, both Joe and I were left puzzling over the same question but for different reasons. That question is, Why?

Joe was at Robinswood Park with Toby and Colt. Toby is a Pitbull mix and Colt is our big Dobie. Colt is anything but aggressive and Toby is extremely submissive. Toby will roll over on his back in a show of submission to any other dog we encounter at the dog park, his confidence has grown but in the past he used to pee submissively as well. Colt is not submissive, he is loud, protective of his people/toys/dog pack, but NOT aggressive. He has been bitten by aggressive dogs at the dog park and elsewhere but never offers to bite back. He is not interested in a fight. We are aware that our dogs may look intimidating to people who believe in stereotypical "dangerous" breeds, therefore if someone appears uncomfortable with our dogs playing/running/barking near theirs we always remove them immediately from the situation. Most people have overcome stereotypes and accept each dog on their own merits, but occasionally we run into one of the few who haven't. On this particular morning at the off-leash park, Joe encountered a woman who expressed an explosive reaction to both Toby and Colt.

She came into the park with a small mix of some sort. She entered the off-leash area designated for larger dogs rather than the one for smaller or shy breeds. Her dog ran over to Toby and started the usual routine of sniffing, tail wagging, chasing, etc... There was no rough play or wrestling going on, but the woman began to yell at Joe and the dogs. She was yelling "stop it... stop it... call your dogs... make them stop!" While she was getting frantic, Joe was thinking to himself, "lady you are only making the situation worse." If the dogs were fighting it would be important to stay calm, getting agitated and excited only feeds the frenzy excited dogs get into. However, they were not fighting, they were PLAYING! Of course Joe respected her wishes and called Colt and Toby away from her dog. She proceeded to yell at Joe telling him that type of behavior shouldn't take place at the dog park. He was left thinking, "wow since when isn't playing acceptable at the dog park?" and ultimately "WHY is this woman entering the large dog area if she is afraid of large dogs or coming to the dog park at all?" At least these experiences are few and far between.

The situation that left me wondering why it took place happened in our backyard. When Whiskey and I return home from work at the end of the day, we spend an hour in the yard with Colt and Tyson. During this hour, I pick up all of the dog droppings so the dogs have a clean place to play. It happened to be raining on this particular evening so our yard was a slippery, muddy mess. I was walking around with the shovel, starting on the far end of the yard and making my way back to the side with our garbage can. The garbage can happens to sit at the top of a small slope. The combination of slippery, muddy, & slope ended up being my demise. I was on a trip to the can with a nice shovel full when I arrived at the slope and began to slip. My natural reaction was to try to walk faster to regain my balance, but no such luck. My quicker steps only added to the speed at which I was going down. I hit the side of the house with my elbow, the shovel flew into the air, and I hit the ground...then the contents of the shovel hit me. To make matters worse, I realized that since I had started cleaning the far side of the yard first, I was now laying in dogs piles as well. I had to laugh, because the only thing I could think was "WHY, at the end of a long work day and 45 minutes in traffic did this have to happen?" I made sure to text message Joe so he could also have a good laugh about my disgusting situation. I have to say even though this particular fall was rather disgusting, our dogs are worth all the gross situations I have experienced and then some!

You Have Got To Be Kidding Me!!!

WARNING: If you get nauseous or easily grossed out read no further! For those of you continuing to read, I apologize in advance for the content but this ACTUALLY happened to me today! This morning started out quite nicely. Joe said he could manage the dogs by himself on the off-leash park trip so I could catch up on some sleep. I heard the rain right when I woke up and was thankful I did not have to get soaked to start out the day, although I was sorry Joe had to go out in it. Joe left Colt and Tyson at home so I let them follow me around the house as I started to get ready for the day. While Tyson and I were doing our makeup in the upstairs bathroom, Colt wandered downstairs and eventually found his way back up. I thought nothing of his little trip downstairs because he sometimes checks out the house before laying down for awhile. When I finished getting ready in the bathroom I brought the boys downstairs with me to let them outside in the backyard to go potty again because a terrible smell was coming from one of them, or so I thought. As I turned around after closing the back door behind the boys, I saw it!! A giant pile of Colt's poop staring me in the face. This was the cause of the offensive smell that had caught my attention. Both Tyson and Colt are thoroughly house trained and they NEVER use the bathroom in the house, unless of course they are severely ill. Then I remembered, my Doberman Biscuit would never poop outside in the rain! Colt must have been holding it in because he didn't want to get wet!
When my Doberman Biscuit and I moved to Kirkland before Joe and I got married, Biscuit adjusted to our new home fairly well, except for the lack of a covered area in the backyard. Biscuit was not a fan of the rain, especially going potty in the rain. While living in Kirkland, she would stand with her front end in the house and her back end hanging out the back door and proceed to potty on the patio because she so strenuously objected to getting wet. One night in particular stands out in my mind because she took me to a level of anger, frustration, and finally admiration that I had not yet reached. It was a particularly stormy night and I knew right on schedule that Biscuit needed to poop at 7pm. We headed out to the backyard and it was raining, so after a half an hour standoff she refused to poop and I allowed her back in the house. We tried again each hour until bedtime. She refused to go so we went to bed and I hoped for the best. She woke me up each hour pacing and whining for the door. We would go outside in the rain and she would NOT do her business. I ended up spending the whole rest of the night outside in the rain waiting for my dog to poop without success. Finally by 5:00 am I was so cold, exhausted, and frustrated, I threw her in my truck and drove to my parent's house (they have a deck that shelters part of their backyard from the rain). I let Biscuit loose in their backyard under the deck where she IMMEDIATELY took a large poop and ran in and curled up in their living room and went to sleep. I had to admire her at this point, she knew what she wanted and got her way. I followed her example and curled up on my parent's couch and slept.
Back to today, Colt's enormous pile in the living room unfortunately is not where my story ends. After scolding him for his mistake and extensively cleaning the living room, I went about my day and was off to work. Upon returning to the house, as usual I let all three dogs out in the backyard to go potty and burn off a little energy running around together. The rain really started coming down so I let the dogs back in the house to play. I started doing some chores when a disgusting smell crept into the kitchen. It was the same smell that caught my attention in the morning. Colt did it AGAIN! I was mildly irritated at this point, we did not spend so much time house training him while he was young to have some new issue crop up. I started to disinfect the living room for the second time when I looked in the kitchen and saw Whiskey pooping in there! I went from irritated to a little mad at this point because all of the dogs had just been outside where the poop should have taken place! I corrected both dogs, finished cleaning, and started to cook dinner. I thought I was going to die of shock when that familiar smell crept back in to the kitchen, this time it was Tyson! He had pooped all over the living room that I just finished cleaning! I had to laugh, what are the odds that all three dogs would have accidents on the same day in a relatively short period of time? None of the dogs are sick, I can only attribute all of the pooping in the house to a collective aversion to wanting to go in the rain. I had to put cooking on hold to clean the living room for the third time today. I corrected Tyson and played with the dogs until their bedtime. The house was finally quiet and I returned to the kitchen to finish cooking. When I entered the kitchen I promptly slipped in a puddle of pee Whiskey sneakily left for me and I hit the floor. So now, not only did I have to clean the kitchen for a second time but I, myself required cleaning!

Pomeraniac!

Joe and I arrived at Robinswood Park nice and early one morning this week. We didn't expect to see anyone hanging around the parking lot since we are usually the first people there each day. The woman holding the empty collar and leash immediately caught my attention, and I wondered why she was holding a collar without a dog attached (it was early in the morning and I was not putting two and two together very quickly). At the same time I was observing this woman, Joe was commenting on "Who in the world lets their dog run loose near such busy streets!" Then I realized he was watching the little blonde dog racing around that belonged to the sad looking woman with the empty collar standing hopelessly in the parking lot.
I got out of the car and asked if I could help her. She was quite dejected and said she had spent an hour in the off-leash area with Mickey, the blonde Pomeranian. Apparently Mickey was not ready to the leave the park and fought his way out of the collar on the way to the car a half an hour before we arrived. She said he did not respond to verbal commands like "come" so he was always a challenge to catch when he got loose. I asked if he responded well to treats or dog food, thinking we could lure him back with something tasty for the dogs Joe and I always keep in the car. She didn't think he would respond to that either. We tried coming at him from both sides to catch him but he was too quick. He seemed to be enjoying himself and making a game out of evading us. He let us get just close enough to almost touch him and then he was off like a streak of blonde lightning. Then a light bulb went off in my head, if the dog wants to stay and play at the park we should act like we are going back to the off-leash area and see if he follows. Joe got our dogs leashed up and led them to the off-leash area. Mickey did excitedly follow us to the entrance and I was able to corner him against the fence so his owner could put his collar back on. She was very appreciative, but I told her it was not a big deal I would hope someone would do the same thing for us if one of our dogs got loose and would not come back! I did recommend a harness for him since he was not trained and is just too quick to catch if he gets free of the collar.

What Is the Right Thing to Do In This Situation?

Our dog walking service is called K9 Boot Camp. We take dogs on trips to the off-leash park for an hour each day. There are several off-leash parks in our area so we rotate through them, but mainly we visit the giant off-leash area at Marymoor Park. It is fantastic with the fields, the slough, the trails, etc... It has everything a dog could want (including lots of other dogs)! We visit the park every weekday morning between 8:30am and 9:00am, depending on how many dogs we are picking up on the way, and we stay at the park for a full hour. We see lots of the same people and dogs each day, which usually is a good thing.
Unfortunately, seeing the same people each day is not so fun when one of the owners has an aggressive dog. Joe and I wondered to each other about the behavior displayed by a Dobie/ Rottweiler mix that started showing up at the park around the time we did and would often run loose with our dogs. We love strong breeds and certainly do not discriminate based on reputation or stereotype (we have two Dobies and love them to pieces), but this dog was showing definite warning signs. Maybe it was never socialized as a young dog, or maybe the off-leash environment is overstimulating for this particular dog. Regardless, the raised hackles, growling, lunging, bearing of teeth, and numerous other indicators should have tipped off the owner that the dog was not enjoying itself. Initially we tried to avoid the dog, but the owner appeared to be seeking us out so her dog could burn off energy by chasing our pack. I decided to be more proactive and approach her to discuss her dog's behavior and hopefully conclude the harassment of our dog pack. She was not at all interested in speaking with me, refused to recall her dog to discourage the behavior, and walked away. Our next idea was to avoid our regular areas in the park, or hide from her really. We were afraid the dog was going to reach a point where the growling and snarling turned to biting. Since we walk several strong breeds ourselves we could only imagine what might happen to our pack, or this antagonist for that matter, if a fight should break out. No such luck!!
One morning recently, we were "hiding" in the tall grass of one of the field off to the side in the park playing with our dog pack and having a great time. Then here comes the Dobie mix trotting over without her owner anywhere in sight, typical! She approached our dogs with her hackles raised and tail pointed in the air, already not good signs. She went after our most submissive member who is such a sweet boy and began chasing and nipping at him. Even after he flipped on his back, she tried biting his neck. That was enough for me, I was not about to allow this irresponsible behavior to continue any longer. The owner was in sight and we yelled to get her attention and for her to get her dog under control. Again, we got no response. She refused to acknowledge that her dog was now attacking ours! We broke it up and as we were walking away with our group I heard her muttering "Why get so worked up, she just likes to play." I almost lost it, that is NOT playing, that is fighting and it is so dangerous and not what the off-leash park environment is for!
Sadly, we have had to take a break from visiting Marymoor because we simply cannot risk putting the dogs in this situation. I know several of the other regular dog walkers have been disturbed by the behavior of this particular dog as well. I have petitioned to the park service for some sort of resolution, since we cannot reach a constructive resolution with the dog owner herself. But I am left wondering what really is the right thing to do in this situation, what if we didn't have other off-leash areas we could visit and were forced to continue meeting this aggressive dog each morning?

Valentine's Dinner Gone to the Dogs!

Valentine's Day arrived this year on a Sunday and both my husband and I were scheduled to work. Since we were both working, we decided not to make any big plans for the holiday. I thought it might be nice to pick up something fun for dinner as a little treat and had seen Papa Murphy's ads for heart-shaped pizzas on TV. My husband is a big fan of their pizza, so I stopped by and picked up pizza on my way home. I let the dogs out as soon as I got home and put the pizza in the oven. Naturally the dogs were full of energy since they had been sleeping in their crates for the last few hours, so I tried to help them calm down.
Colt was not able to restrain himself from chasing the new puppy, Whiskey, all over the house, so I had to bring out the leash to force him to stay away from her. I wrapped the leash around my left wrist and brought him to the kitchen so I could clean while the pizza finished cooking. Colt behaved very well and sat by my side while I removed the pizza from the oven. I almost forgot he was still in the kitchen as I started to slice the pizza. I received a sudden reminder of his presence as Whiskey raced by and I felt him lunge with the force of his entire body weight against my left wrist. Needless to say, I flew to the left and so did the pizza. It hit the kitchen floor, cheese side down of course!
All three dogs ran to the kitchen eager to help me clean up the huge mess we made. They enjoyed a heart-shaped pizza for Valentine's Day, and fortunately having had similar experiences in the past I had the forethought to buy a second pizza so my husband and I did too!

Where's the Whiskey?

Despite our disappointment following the experience with the local Doberman Rescue, we continued our search for a new dog. Our next stop was the nearby animal shelter that had recently taken in a Doberman puppy that was found wandering alone in a park. We brought Colt and Tyson to the shelter to do a group introduction to see if this puppy would be a good fit for our family. The puppy, Lola, was absolutely adorable and we all just loved her. She was tiny though, really tiny! She was way smaller than Colt was when he was four months old. Her size caused us some concern because Colt is on the large end for male Dobermans. He weighs 90 lbs and is still growing, so we wanted to make sure our next dog would be able play with him without the risk of getting trampled by accident. We left the shelter without Lola that day, which was so hard! I have never seen a puppy I didn't want to take home! She was too small, which leads me to believe she was either an extra small runt from her litter, or she was actually a mix of some kind of smaller breed as well.
Strangely enough, that same day Colt's breeder contacted me to see if we were still searching for a new dog. I had mentioned to her months earlier that we were considering a new addition. I told her we were looking around and had actually been at the shelter earlier that morning. She recommended I get in touch with a friend of hers who recently had a litter of puppies sired by Colt's brother, because she thought he may have a few remaining. I followed up on her contact and he did in fact have a red female two month old puppy. He offered us a fantastic deal for a beautiful puppy, and we had the peace of mind knowing that she had AKC paperwork and a bloodline with great health and temperament. We got our little girl the following Thursday and named her Whiskey!!

Colt Gone Wild!

After a lot of thought and discussion, my husband and I made the decision to add another dog to our family. We began the search for our new addition at local animal shelters, dog rescue organizations, and OF COURSE Petfinder.com. We knew this one had to be another Doberman, so when our local Doberman rescue contacted us regarding a neutered albino male we started to get excited. I arranged to have the organization representative come by for a home check on the weekend.
Saturday afternoon, the day of the home visit, arrived quickly. I had the house perfectly clean and Colt and Tyson tired from an outing at the off-leash park. We were totally prepared for a home review, or so I thought. I put the dogs in the backyard before the knock at the door so our visitors would not get trampled upon entering the house. I allowed the Doberman Rescue representative and her husband into the living room and then let Tyson and Colt in from the backyard. Everything went downhill from there.
Colt, usually friendly and somewhat loud when guests come over, went NUTS! His hackles went up, he crouched into a lunge-type stance, began showing his teeth, and started barking his head off at the woman's husband. Colt is normally a great watch dog, but I had never seen him react to someone like this before. I tackled him and wrestled him upstairs to put him in his crate, while apologizing profusely to our guests.
I made it to the top of the stairs and thought I had him under control when all of the sudden he body slammed me into the wall and wrenched free of my hold on his collar. He took off back down the stairs and went after the man again! I caught him a second time and successfully got him up the stairs and into the crate. Colt would not stop barking and attacking his crate trying to break free and go after this man. Since I had never seen him respond to anyone, human or animal, in this manner I asked the man to step outside. I have faith in our dog and I truly believe he sensed something amiss with this person.
At this point I figured the home visit was over, we failed miserably, and lost our chances of adopting a Doberman from the rescue. The rescue organizations look for owners that will enhance the reputation of the breed, not ones that encourage attack/ guard type behavior like Colt was displaying.
The representative, surprisingly, was completely understanding and completed our home visit. She took a tour of the house and the backyard. She also quizzed me on my breed knowledge. Questions about the health problems typical to albino dogs were covered as well. I assured her we had done our research and were prepared to allow the dog to avoid the sun, wear t-shirts, sunscreen, and doggles as necessary. To my surprise, we passed with flying colors!!
We were ready to make a trip to pick up our albino rescue dog the following day, but I received an email late that Saturday night cancelling our appointment. As it turns out, the rescue organization misread our paperwork initially and thought we had one male and one female dog at home already but upon further review realized we actually have two males. They did not feel that this male dog would fit well in a home with two other males. I could not believe that after enduring the craziness of the afternoon it wasn't going to work out after all. We were so disappointed!

We Practically Live at the Off-Leash Park!

Colt, our young male Doberman, has an energy level that is off the charts! The off-leash park has been a saving grace to us because he has been able to release a lot of his puppy wildness in a controlled environment. He has learned social skills with people and dogs alike, appropriate canine manners, and lots of fun dog games. We attend the dog park at least 6-7 times per week. We go so often we started to purchase the multiple month parking passes, as opposed to paying daily, it actually saves a lot of money!
Tyson, our Bulldog, comes with us on our off-leash trips. He is not as interested in the other dogs, but is happy to walk with my husband and I if we let him carry a tennis ball or swim. Due to his incredibly small nasal passages and pushed in adorable face, he can overheat easily. We have to make sure he does not over-exert himself, especially in the summer. My mother and father-in-law bought Tyson a "cool coat", it is like an ice pack jacket he wears in the summer to keep his body temperature down, GENIUS! We purchased a life jacket for Tyson as well, convinced he would sink when initially trying to swim given the girth of his body and the tiny legs to support him. He never wears the life jacket anymore because he has proven to be an avid swimmer! It always surprises other park attendees to see a Bulldog paddling by.
The off-leash park seems to have it's own subculture. Because we are at the park so often, we have adapted to the unspoken etiquette expected of regular visitors. We ALWAYS pick up our dog droppings, and notice the glances and remarks about those that don't pick up after their dogs. We require our dogs to play easy with puppies just getting used to the off-leash environment. We are now able to recognize who takes their dogs to the park for general socialization and stimulation purposes, and who takes their out of control, untrained, high energy dog to the park and turns it loose and looks the other way while it wreaks all sorts of havoc. We are also aware of the individuals who like to release their unneutered, male, tough looking breeds for the simple pleasure of honing their bullying skills on unsuspecting play groups and walkers.
We have been fortunate and only had a select few encounters with aggressive dogs at the off-leash park, but we are aware that that is always a possibility. One such occurrence happened only months ago. Tyson was approached by a Pitbull, while Colt was running in a nearby field with another dog. The Pitbull initially sniffed Tyson, Tyson decided he had enough and ran toward my husband. His running incited a chase and the Pitbull came after him in an aggressive manner. The Pitbull attempted to corner him. Before my husband could break it up Colt appeared in mere seconds from across the field, jumped over Tyson's back, and landed in front of him face to face with the Pitbull. Colt's hackles went up, teeth came out, and he let out an intimidating growl that sent the Pitbull running in the other direction. In the meantime, Tyson's stance changed from an intimidated cower to a confident strut once he realized his big brother came to his rescue. Experiences like these are few and far between and do not deter from the value the park has to offer to a household like ours!

Puppies!

After the loss of Biscuit, I did not feel ready for another dog. I could not imagine having a relationship with a dog that would be able to compare. I decided to take some time to heal and to focus on my upcoming wedding! In the midst of the wedding planning, my now husband purchased an English Bulldog puppy. We discussed preparations to puppy-proof his apartment, Bulldog health concerns, exercise limitations, dietary needs, and toys to keep a puppy busy during long work days. Tyson turned out to be the most adorable, easy-going, laid-back puppy anyone could ask for. He slept through the night, played well alone during the work day, and took to house training immediately. He is a white bulldog with a few tan spots, he should be a supermodel!
When we got married, I moved into our new house and was looking forward to adapting to life with Tyson. I was so accustomed to high maintenance dogs, following my years with a Doberman, that Tyson reminded me more of a cat. I was shocked at how easy he was to take care of. He liked to receive attention on his own terms, didn't mind exercise, and LOVED food and sleep equally.
Because my husband could tell I terribly missed the Doberman relationship, he suggested we adopt one after we got married if I felt ready. I agreed that I was prepared for another, so we found a breeder in the area and did some research. We were determined to find a bloodline with better health prospects than poor Biscuit, she developed almost every ailment Dobermans are susceptible to in her lifetime. We were satisfied with the breeder's documentation and loved the temperament of her dogs. We purchased a black and tan male, we named him Colt.
Colt and Tyson could not be more opposite! While Tyson is calm, quiet, and easy to please, Colt is high-energy, demanding, and loud. There is also a considerable 40 lb size difference now that they are full grown. They are the odd couple! Although it would seem personality conflict and size difference might prevent these two from developing attachments to one another, they have proven quite the contrary. Colt is absolutely in love with Tyson! Tyson is Colt's security blanket. When Tyson starts sawing logs at bedtime with his incredibly loud snore, Colt is able to fall asleep. In a new environment Colt looks to Tyson to determine how to react, Tyson is always calm. Colt on the other hand forces Tyson to exercise and play to the benefit of his health, when he otherwise might prefer to sleep all day. It appears we have adopted two breeds from opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of personality and energy level, but the combination of the two has offered our family a nice balance.

Della...Victoria...BISCUIT!!

For my 21st birthday, many years ago, I asked my parents for a dog. Not just any dog, a red Doberman to be exact. I had never had a Doberman before, but I had done a lot of reading and found myself attracted to the breed's strength, loyalty, and incredible intelligence. As I had just gone through a traumatic experience that left me afraid to leave the house, my parents thought a dog would be a positive influence in my life. I could take the dog with me in the car when I was forced to go somewhere alone, and a dog like a Doberman would require plenty of exercise outside of the house as well. Not to mention that the appearance of a Doberman can be intimidating to unwanted visitors, I found that very comforting. We started looking and came across an ad in the local newspaper for a free red female Doberman named Della. She was 10 months old and had been rescued from a neglectful household by a couple of well-intentioned senior citizens. They ended up having to place an ad to re-home her because she was simply too strong for them to walk on a leash and was displaying some destructive tendencies. I thought this must be my dog!
My parents and I went to visit Della and we were all stunned by her beauty. She was so regal and elegant as she ate shells and rocks in the couple's backyard. She was beautiful and clearly out of control. We took her home. She broke out in dandruff from the stress of the move, began emitting gas that was enough to make a person flee the house, and had terrible diarrhea (obviously from all of the objects she had been compulsively ingesting). I loved her!
We had to re-think her name because Della just did not fit. My parents and brother and sisters suggested lovely names to suit her beauty, like Victoria. I really liked their suggestions, but I wanted a name that would match the personality of my awkward, nervous, moody, gassy companion. I chose Biscuit.
Besides her intestinal distress and desperate need for Head and Shoulders for dogs, wow did she have a personality. She was not afraid to make clear when she was hungry, thirsty, bored, etc... by pressing her head heavily in my lap, the high pitched whining, the quick pokes in the face with her cold nose, and many more VERY effective attention getting techniques. If each of these techniques failed, she moved on to more dramatic cries for attention including pulling up the carpet, chewing on anything, eating her way through the wall in the hallway, swallowing toys, swallowing socks, stealing food, and locking her jaws around any other forbidden object.
Our vet got to know Biscuit right away, and maintained a close, personal relationship with her throughout her life. It is amazing how many objects passed through Biscuit, but unfortunately some got stuck and required surgery. She also was diagnosed with a thyroid condition and was put on different food, which cleared up her dandruff and hair loss.
We participated in lifelong obedience classes as well as agility to burn off some of her endless mental and physical energy. Somewhere along the line during all of our visits to the vet and dog classes, she began to trust me. She became an entirely different dog...well, almost entirely. She never could resist the desire to steal a sock, a Subway sandwich, or anything tempting within reach even in her old age. She followed me around like Velcro, everywhere I went she went. If I went to the restroom, she was right outside when I came out (that is if she didn't force her way in with me). She forced me to be the boss because she craved leadership. I had to be strong physically to wrestle with her when she was disobedient, and I had to demonstrate confidence to compensate for her insecurities. I started to realize that with her neediness, moodiness, demand for exercise, and incredible need for control, Biscuit distracted me from my fear. We were running in the neighborhood (even if she was really pulling me down the street and bloodying my knees at first), attending classes, she was waiting in the car while I ran errands, and in the process she was giving me my life back. I went back to college and completed my degree, oftentimes Biscuit came to school with me. I also moved to my first place alone, with Biscuit of course.
I lost Biscuit two years ago, and it was one of the most painful things I have experienced. She was 7 years old when I had to put her to sleep. Besides her thyroid condition, she developed incontinence as she aged, as well as Wobbler's disease. She was able to live comfortably with each of these ailments, but began developing tumors. I had one tumor surgically removed, but she did not recover well from the surgery and developed numerous other tumors. She began to suffer, and it felt selfish to keep her alive only because I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I didn't know what to do with myself without her, because we were a team. I realized even though she would no longer physically be with me, she would always be with me in spirit. She was truly a blessing in my life and I believe she is my guardian angel. I still hear her occasionally, a high-pitched whine or one of her signature snores. I am looking forward to seeing her again one day.