Yesterday, my wife, my daughter and I took our beloved dog to the vet to be euthanized. She was 15 years old. Her name was Hobo. We said goodbye with tears in our eyes, and held her as she took her last breath.
I’d like to share her story, and an important lesson I learned over these last few years with her.
“Hobo” isn’t a common name for a dog, but when you hear how she came to be our pet, the name will make sense. One morning, about 15 years ago, I was at work, and standing on the walkway in front of the store where I worked was a transient with a three-month-old puppy. I didn’t think much about it at first, but suddenly I heard the puppy yelp. I was horrified when I saw the transient physically abusing this little dog.
Standing idly by was not an option. I walked out of the store and told the man that if he didn’t stop hurting the dog, I would take it from him. He told me to F*&^ off. I went back into the store, but less than five minutes later, he was at it again, and the puppy was crying out in pain.
I kept my word. There was an altercation. I secured the dog, and my coworkers called the police. In the end, the transient went to jail, and the puppy went to the dog pound. I told my wife about what happened, and we decided that we wanted to adopt the puppy if we could. The dog pound released little Hobo into our care a week later.
The abuse she suffered as a pup impacted her for life. For the first year, if you tried to touch her tail, she would try take off your hand. She was fearful of people. But in time she came to understand how much we loved her, and she made amazing progress.
I don’t know what breed of dog Hobo was, but she was beautiful. She had a brindle coat, and was built like a greyhound. She could run like the wind in her youth, and one of her favorite things to do was to chase seagulls at the beach.
The later years.
As she got older, Hobo developed myriad health problems that got progressively worse. She endured two cancer surgeries. She went almost completely deaf. About three years ago, she started to stumble when she walked. She developed a tumor on her stomach that eventually grew to the size of a grapefruit.
Things got worse. Her back legs got weaker and weaker, to the point where she often could not stand without assistance. She lost all control of her bladder and bowels. Her stomach wouldn’t tolerate kibble any more. She got bladder infections, and developed a constant runny nose.
In spite of all this, she was full of life and love to the end. She was a fighter, and she just adapted as her health declined.
Love in action.
We knew that Hobo wasn’t ready to quit on life, and we were determined not to quit on her. And so, we got her pain medication and antibiotics when she needed them. We helped her up when she fell. We cleaned up her messes. Each night, we made her special dog food (chicken and rice mostly). We did this for nearly three years. We would still be doing it, but we finally hit a hurdle that no amount of money or effort could overcome. She developed a growth under her tongue that made it difficult for her to eat, and nearly impossible for her to drink.
Over the last three years, there were times when our home smelled like a sewer. There were trips we didn’t take and things we didn’t buy so that we could care for Hobo. We sacrificed time, money, and energy. And both my wife and I would do it all over again without hesitation. Why? Because we truly loved her. And we learned from this experience that the following is absolutely true: love is not a feeling; love is what you do.
Gratitude.
I am so grateful to God for bringing Hobo into our lives. She lived much longer than we ever thought she would, and I thank God for every second we had with her.
When it came time to make the call to have Hobo put down, God gave me peace that it was the right thing to do and the right time to do it. He is comforting me in this difficult time with His presence and His Word, and I am so grateful for both.
I also look forward to a time when grief and sorrow are no more. Praise God for the blessed hope He gives us through His son, Jesus Christ!
He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.
~Revelation 21:4
