I'm Never Ready

I am never ready to let them go.

I am sitting in my "dog office" at 3:45 am. Laying at my feet is my old man, Chase. Born 5/20/95, son of Ch. Phi-Vestavia Embers of Xtacee, a littermate to Eng/Am Ch. Phi-Vestavia Evan Evans- and sired by Ch. Phi-Vestavia Oedipus Rex. Chase has always been a character- he has always had an opinion- it was his way or No Way!

Just 3 pts shy of finishing his Championship, on a very cold December day, Chase decided to take a short cut off our deck down to the ground to see the girls running below. He didn't bother with the steps- he climbed up onto the picnic table and jumped to the frozen ground. He ended up going down that night. Lots of prayer, Dexamethasone, Robaxin and crate rest and he was up and around in a few weeks, but it was over a year before he got that last major. We had nicknamed him "Chasing Majors" by that time!

Chase finished his CD in 3 trials- with decent scores- and each time, by making the judge snicker at least one time! Training class was always comical- my instructors would tell me to MAKE him be more precise...they just didn't understand that no one makes Chase do anything he doesn't want to do! Needless to say- Chase didn't WANT to learn dumbell- so we never went any farther than his CD!

But Chase always had personality! He knew when it was dinner time- and even as his eyesight began to fail, and he lost his hearing- his tummy had a perfect clock. All the other dogs in the house respect Chase- he has special priveleges- he is the first through every doorway- and he can have any bone he wants; no one argues with him. If Chase wants that bed- the other dogs move out of his way! Chase is "The Man"

Over the last year, we noticed that he was getting lost in the yard- barking at the back of his crate- sleeping more and more. We started him on Anipryl to try to improve his cognitive function. This winter, I stopped putting him outside with the younger corgi's- they just ran too fast and played too hard, and more often than not, Chase got bumped around. He had fallen a few times, and I didn't want to risk him being injured by their play. And... he really just wandered around the yard now anyway. So, Chase had his own yard time, and he was happy with that.

This afternoon, when I went to let him back in, he wasn't standing at the door waiting for me, as was his usual routine. He wasn't even in the nearer part of the yard- and he hadn't ventured away from that part of the yard for several weeks. As I ran to the house to get my coat and boots, I knew that something was wrong.

I found Chase in the very farthest back corner of our yard. The yard is about 500' x 450'- so thats quite a distance for a 100+ year old man to toddle in the snow. He had curled up under a bush, with his face pressed up against the privacy fence.

I brought him in and warmed him up; took his temperature, called my husband- of course, crying all the while. As Chase warmed up, he started wandering- in an endless circle to the left. Occasionally he would stumble and fall-then he would get back up and start circling again. I offered him water and food, which he ignored.

When Gus got home he examined Chase. His temp is still subnormal; his CRT is slow; his heart rate is very low. The endless circles have stopped, but Chase has sought out the darkest, farthest corner of the room to lie in.

I think it's time.

The rational, thinking part of me knows that Chase has most likely suffered a neurological incident. The selfish part of me wants God to take him; I don't want to make this decision. And in my heart, I know that I owe this wonderful old dog, who never asked me for anything but love, a peaceful and painless journey over the Bridge.

For now, he is sleeping comfortably- his head on my foot. In the morning, well, we'll see...