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| Petty, April 10th, 2006 - November 10th, 2018 |
Fast forward to 2006 and I had a neighbor that decided, for some reason, to get a pure bread pit bull puppy from a breeder. This neighbor was never meant to own a dog. The barely walking pup was often left unattended and slept in the tiny, cold backyard of the condo. We heard it howling all night, every night.
One day, I came home from one gig or another and the neighbor was out front chatting with friends and the tiniest of puppies was rolling in the grass next to them. Being an animal lover, I walked over and asked to pet the dog.
This chocolate pit fit entirely in the palm of my hand. Thankfully, she still had her ears and tail because I despise people that mutilate their pets. I was asking questions trying to find out why in the Hell someone would get a dog with no intention of caring for it.
That's when it happened. He asked if I wanted the dog. My wife at the time and I had barely discussed the notion of getting Aaron a dog for his upcoming 6th birthday yet here an opportunity presented itself. I can't tell you if I went in to speak with my ex or not. I don't really recall much other than asking if I could take her for the day to get checked out by a vet. The neighbor had paperwork for shots and a birth certificate, but I wanted to be sure she was healthy.
I remember taking her in and getting her checked and a clean bill of health and suddenly, we were dog owners. I asked Aaron what he wanted to name this chocolate pit with white paws. Maybe Coco? Paws? Socks? No, that 6 year old remembered his imaginary dog from 3 years ago and this dog was Petty.
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| 2006 after graduating obedience class |
I got a lot of flack for getting my 6 year old (and by extension, his 2 year old brother) a pit bull. They are such "vicious beasts" after all.
I never worried though. As Petty got bigger and my toddler lied on the floor pulling at her ears. I never worried.
As she took off running after some animal, all the while dragging my 6 year old helplessly behind her. (It never occurred to him to let go of the leash.) I never worried.
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You can see the scrapes on Aaron's knees from the drag. |
As children would instinctively approach her, fingers outstretched, poking her eyes. I never worried.
I never worried because pit bulls ARE NOT vicious beasts. Like any animal, they are a product of their environment as Petty's was an environment of love and hugs, and giggles.
Petty came with me in my 2008 divorce and Alyssa joined our family. Petty instantly became a mama's girl and Alyssa, a lifelong cat person, instantly became a loving dog mother.
Nights gone by of Petty laying sprawled between Alyssa's legs so that she couldn't get a good night's sleep and not once did Alyssa ever make Petty move.
The two became inseparable. Aaron, now 18, and Alyssa often argue about whose dog she really was. Little do either of them know, she was mine. I was her Alpha. She listened to me in every way.
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| And on her last night, they agreed to share. |
My little chocolate pit. She loved hiking and camping and carrots and chasing squirrels. My baby girl.
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| One of her many hikes. |
Then, suddenly, she smelled bad. She wouldn't walk. She was drinking a lot and throwing up a lot.
Total renal failure.
One of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make was to put her in a traumatic hospital stay that might not help or to make her comfortable and put her to sleep.
After a long talk with Alyssa and Aaron, we made the difficult decision to not be selfish and have her euthanized on November 10th, 2018. We opted to be in the room and per the vert's suggestion, we fed her all sorts of deliciously bad for her treats in her final days. French fries. Spaghetti. An early Thanksgiving dinner. Etc.
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| Fries |
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| Pasta |
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| Thanksgiving Dinner |
With her arthritis, she no longer sleeps on the bed but you better believe those final nights, she was lifted up and down.
And we took her on one last walk.
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| Her Final Walk. |
She spent one last morning eating a hearty meal, laying in the sun, and getting brushed.
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Final Breakfast |
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| One More Sun Tan. |
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| One Final Brush. |
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| Goodbye Sister. |
For her last meal, there in the vet's office, she wolfed down 2 Sausage McMuffins from McDonald's. We hugged her. We said we were sorry. We cried.
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| Final Meal. |
I suppose I should be grateful for the 4 days and nights with Petty between the news and the decision. But I'm not.
I'm not. She was my baby girl and we had to be unselfish and that sucks.
She was never violent. She never bit anybody. She wagged her tail with the force of a tornado. She always smiled. She always made me feel important. She was the perfect dog.
Rest in peace Petty. You ARE forever loved.
And...you were OUR dog...
Editor's Note: I started crying about 3 sentences in to writing this so I don't care about spelling and grammar today.
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