Well I resolved not to blog here until the new design is ready. But that’s taking longer than expected and sometimes, you gotta write when a wound is still raw. This is a story I was NOT expecting to be writing. Not at all.
Sadly, today is likely to be our dog Fletcher’s last day of life. Unless, at his 5:00 vet appointment, they find something medically wrong with him that results in a stay of execution, which is of course highly unlikely. Or unless some kind soul with a lot of land and a lot of expertise in training aggressive animals reads this post and says “I’ll take him!” which is even less likely. (#saveFletcher?)
Some of you know the story of Gomer. We used to joke about Fletcher being Gomer’s reincarnation. Not so funny anymore. I seem to have quite the knack for picking dogs (and, occasionally in the past, men) with aggression problems. Fletcher’s former food aggression turned dog aggression turned object aggression turned human aggression quite suddenly over the past two weeks.
Last night, Amy Ammen from Amiable Dog Training came in for a professional consultation. I’ve taken Amy’s classes for years and she knows her stuff. She ran Fletcher through a bunch of aggression tests, the conclusion being like a boot to the stomach: bad genetics. You shouldn’t keep him in a house with a child, and you can’t rehome him. Which leaves us with only one alternative: The Rainbow Bridge.
Yes, I of course know the Rainbow Bridge is something a grieving dog owner made up to help the rest of us through times like this. But still, I must try to take comfort and amusement in the imagined scene of Fletcher meeting Gomer there, and all hell breaking loose. And I must try to celebrate Fletcher’s short-but-happy life.
Fletcher loved him some snow, and finally, finally just learned to drop a retrieving dummy and sit on a hand signal.
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- He loved him some snow.
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- He loved him some dirt, as well.
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- And handsome. Quite handsome indeed.
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- He was uniquely exuberant and curious.
He was a pain in the ass. And we love him. And saying goodbye sucks. And I hate that Griffin has to go through it at only six years old.
But life happens. Someone said, Don’t cry that it is over. Smile that it happened. Imma try to go with that.
