
I know this is Pepper's blog. Generally, I write about my adventures with Pepper, although I've kind of fallen behind on that. Occasionally, I will foster a dog and will write about the foster dog and their journey to their forever home.
Max's story, however, is one that has taken me quite a bit to write...
I knew Max from work. His owner was an older lady who loved him deeply and visited us often. At one point this year, however, the visits were further and further apart.
The first couple of phone calls that built up to my decision were from his owner. She was distressed about finding a home for Max, simply because she was moving to another assisted living facility that wouldn't allow her to keep him. Now, don't be quick to judge this woman; these phone calls were hard for her to make. She rescued Max from the pound back around 2005 or sooner and he was her companion since! Communication was iffy; she had no phone (she would borrow one from a friend if she could), and her mailing address didn't seem to work.
Then, before Thanksgiving, I answered a phone call and immediately recognized her voice: "How much does euthanasia cost at your clinic?" I gave her an estimate, and she asked me if the cost included the chance to be in the room with the pet as they pass. Somehow I knew that this is not really what she wanted, so I drew the boldness to ask, "What's going on with Max?" She said, with a very broken voice, "They are moving me to a new assisted living facility this Sunday. If I don't find a place for Max by then, they will drop him off at the pound to have him put down. I don't know who would want to adopt an old dog like him, but I don't have the money to afford having him put down at your clinic and I just don't know what to do..." I put her on hold, confirmed with the honey, and came back on the line. I offered her the option of surrendering Max to me. I knew it was hard to communicate with her outside her calls, so I told her I would be more than happy to take Max until I could find a permanent home for him. And it would release her financially of having to make a decision either way. She was more than thrilled and she gave me an address where I could meet her on Saturday.
I went to pick up Max and as usual, he was happy to see me. Seemed happy to go outside, although both dog and owner were a bit stiff walking in the snow and ice. I lifted Max, all 83 lbs, by myself to the backseat of my SUV (and my back took it's revenge on me later), and dog and lady said goodbye. The lady signed Max over to me and left me with some food and some instructions for his care... mentioned something about me being "God-sent", although I certainly didn't feel it. As I drove away Max was obviously disappointed that the lady wasn't in the car with us and when we got home, he seemed too depressed to eat or move around much.

A couple of hundred dollars later, I come home to hubby with old dog, new dog food to help him lose a good 10 lbs, glucosamine supplements, omega 3 supplements, and 2 medications to help with pain relief. He also needed antibiotics because his teeth were in atrocious condition, but his blood work showed questionable liver values so putting him under anesthesia at this point was not really an option.
Max was on a strict diet and regiment, although if he felt good enough he was more than happy to try getting left-overs out of the trash or eating Pepper's food. My husband and I even logged it on the fridge, to make sure he was getting everything he needs if he was to have a fighting chance at life. We both knew at this point he probably was not adoptable, but we were willing to consider becoming his permanent home as long as his health would allow.

The only thing he got freely and abundantly was love. He would hobble over to wherever you were sitting and lick your feet. The kids came by and gave him love and affection whenever they had to walk over him or around him. Paul and I frequently loved on him as encouragement and motivation every time he was on his feet.
You could tell he loved being outside and on the first couple of days after the new medications, he would pull you out the door and seemed to want to go around the block. We quickly discovered that although he wanted to go further, his body really couldn't make it past the Chinese restaurant across the parking lot from us; he would start panting, walking really awkwardly. His joints would lock at the shoulder and hip level and his gait would be so ... difficult. Still, we waited to see improvement.
After a few weeks we noticed he was actually declining. He couldn't stand up on his own at all, and eventually resisted Paul's help by laying on his side; his way of giving up. He really didn't want to eat, which was odd for Max to begin with, and as I observed him I noticed his legs would shake and give out on him while he was eating. I started feeding him on the floor wherever he was laying down.
I have to point out here that Alaska winters are harsh and unforgiving. While we had Max we went from rain with hurricane-force winds to fast, deep freezes. Walking for us and the kids outside was painful, insanely icy and slippery. Our apartment didn't allow for Max to empty himself anywhere inside, he had to walk out there. I had 3 kids under the age of five in a one bedroom apartment, giving Max a "potty" break inside was not an option, and he wouldn't have taken it anyways. He refused to pee unless all 4 paws were buried in snow - and snow itself was hard to find this winter outside when everything was frozen solid.
Paul and I decided it was time. And we realized that it was better now than to wait for a slip on the ice, a broken hip or shoulder, when Max would've been in excruciating pain. He didn't deserve that.

Pepper kissed Max's face good bye, as if she knew he was leaving for good when he walked out the door this time. I told the kids to give Max hugs and kisses good bye. Anakin, my 5 year old, asked me if Max was going to a new home. I told him that Max was going to be euthanized, and he asked me what that means. I explained, "We are taking him to the vet, where we are going to help him die peacefully and without pain. It helps them to pass away without suffering, which is the best thing for Max now." I can't lie to my kids anyways. Anakin put his arms around Max's neck and cried onto his face. Then he gave him a kiss on the forehead, wiped his tears, and got in the car. We dropped off the kids at day care and went to the clinic.
In the clinic, in the room, we got Max comfortable and the veterinarian administered the sedative - the last thing Max would feel. There was a cookie jar by Paul with dog treats. Max kept licking Paul's hand, and looking at the treats, then looking back at Paul... It was funny to see him try to signal to Paul. Then Max got treat, after treat, after treat. His veterinarian, Paul, and me kept telling Max what a good boy he was. He laid on that table, wagged his tail, as happy as can be. He gave Paul and me a couple of kisses, then the vet gave him the final injection. Midway through it, Max put his head into my arms and closed his eyes, peacefully going to sleep. By the time the vet was done with the injection, she checked for his pulse and let us know that he was gone. Then Paul and I started bawling.
It's been days since and I'm still crying. But I know that he went loved and cared for, painless, and it was what he deserved. I'm at peace with our decision, but we miss him, and its altogether a difficult experience to get over. Paul still has a hard time looking at his pictures or seeing his things, even when we've already gotten his ashes back. We didn't even own him for that long and it still tore our hearts.

So I wrote this blog for a purpose. And that is because every pet deserves Max's end. Not an end at a shelter, or in the snow, or on the street. But with the love and care of his owners. They love you unconditionally and see no fault with you, the least we can do is give them room in our home and in our hearts for the rest of their lives! And if you can't quite commit to that, then it's best to not have a pet at all. I know during the holidays many people get kids and spouses and girlfriends puppies and kittens... But what happens to the pet when the kids grow up? Move? or the relationship ends? It is not fair for that pet. It takes guts and a serious amount of selflessness to take care of a dog or cat until the very end. And that is my challenge to you with this blog: Not to go and get yourself a pet if you are not up for this kind of commitment and heart-wrenching end. But if you already have one, to love them and have them be a part of the family until this end comes to you.