It's not an easy thing to be the decider of when the life of a dog needs to end. No matter how old or sick the dog, it remains a difficult process. Bruno had a rough summer with the loss of the use of one leg, appetite, and quality of life from what ended up being an osteosarcoma tumor on his femur. We knew he was in pain and suffering beyond what any dog can express to an owner, especially after his bad leg stiffened and became inflamed until it was over twice the size of the other one. A dog that once ate as if his stomach was a bottomless pit would not touch any of the several different types of dog food we tried to feed him.
The good days in life seem to speed by, while the difficult days seem to never come to an end. Friday was a long day as we decided it would be the day to take him in to be euthanized. Willing to break all the doggy rules, we let him dine with us and our friends the night before with all the pizza, pepperoni, and bacon he could handle (still wouldn't touch dog food, but our food hit the spot for him). My little brother Kevin, who has a real sensitive heart towards any animal, came to sit with Bruno and keep him company during the day. After feeding him all the Klondike bars he wanted, we took him for one last swim in the lake. JR insisted that he spend his last minutes with him doing an activity that they both loved. You could see the coolness of the water in combination with the release of pressure from his joints relax him and take a lot of his pain away. I kept having to remind myself as I watched him and the minutes kept ticking closer to our appointment that he would feel even better where he was going.
I felt like a robot as I forced my feet to take each step and every movement seemed to take more thought than usual getting in the truck to take the final drive. I don't have any idea what was going through the dog's mind, but we told him about all of the dogs and people that would probably be coming to get him soon. I'm sure it was more for our own reassurance than his. JR didn't have the heart to see him die lying on the floor, so he held him while his body went limp. It wasn't so much the dog's life ending that brought so many tears to my eyes, but the sight of what I couldn't help but picture of a boy and his dog and their unique friendship. We took his body home and buried him in our backyard, which again brought on the forced mechanical movements.
The room at the vet's office had a picture of a plaque that read, "semper fidelis", meaning "always faithful." That sure sums up exactly what Bruno was. I won't deny all the times in his life I yelled at him or said the words, "damn dog," but I will never deny the loyalty Bruno had for his family. I know he would do anything to protect us and keep us safe. Like all dogs, (maybe a little more than most) Bruno's younger years proved to be full of trouble. He dug a hole and actually escaped under the fence the night we brought him home. This dog once ate an entire loaf of bread, a stick of butter another time, and pounds of chocolate and several packages of cookies on other occasions. This dog could eat! I laugh as I picture the two young newly weds we were living with our giant troublesome dog. You couldn't take Bruno on a walk, he took you on a walk! Going through the garbage while his owners were at work was a favorite recreation sport of his. I remember walking in on him one day after he thought I had already left for the day and watched him jump away from the garbage and walk away as if he hadn't already knocked the can over and ferociously ripped the bag open with his teeth. He HATED cats and made it his self-given mission to protect the world from them. I'm sure he is fully repentant by now of any harm he placed on the feline family. He also never realized his size. I remember him laying his head or upper body on the lap of whomever was sitting on the couch. He loved tuna cans, sitting under the baby's highchair, water from the hose, balls of any size, snowballs in the winter, and bones. I don't know where he got the strength, but he managed to slowly and shallowly bury a bone the day he died.
Thank you Bruno, for teaching us patience and responsibility. Thank you for teaching our son to love animals. Thank you for teaching him his first word. He still asks for you and cried while he laid on your bed yesterday wanting you. Thank you for watching over our house. Most of all, thank you for teaching us how to love unconditionally. Every time I hear a siren I'm sure I will still wait for a big loud howl from you to follow. We love you.
Here is little Ferris (one of many nicknames) on Halloween. He wouldn't smile for any of these pictures. I think he was trying to maintain an intimidating look to match the costume. Way to get into character little guy!
Taking vital signs and checking for any abnormalities in skin and fleece. 
Examining the ears
Trick-or-treating went a little something like this: With confused looks on their faces, we told Emerson and his friend Kate (both a year old) to knock on the doors of neighbors' homes wearing costumes and holding buckets shaped as pumpkins. To add to the confusion, we weren't entering the homes we visited, just standing outside waiting for goodies. Emerson of coarse marched right through every door that opened. They got used to the idea of filling up the buckets with treats, which got a little heavy for them and ended up being dragged on the sidewalk. By the end of our short trip down the street, which seemed to take much longer with the pace they were going, we knew it was time for quits as they sat down on the doorsteps. They had a successful evening of looking adorable in their costumes and trick-or-treating. Emerson was oblivious to the fact that his parents would take his hard-earned candy from him at the end of the night.
JR carved a pumpkin. Dressing our son up and a carved pumpkin was just how festive we got this year.
