I had to take my Wolfie in to the vet yesterday. [View All]

[polly7]

He stopped eating, so he'd been at the vet's for eight days of the last two weeks for tests and IV fluids. I was told there was nothing they could do without making him suffer through a surgery he probably wouldn't survive, and to bring him home for a few days. Early yesterday morning he tried to jump back up on my bed but was too weak, and fell. His eyes were still bright and his tail wagged, he insisted on going outside every few minutes to the bathroom .. he didn't seem to think he was sick, he never showed any sign of pain, he just didn't eat ... but he was so weak and thin he started to stumble when he walked. Wolfie saved my life after my Dad killed himself, I know this. For weeks he followed my every step and would just sit there, watching me. If I cried he was there in seconds with his head on my lap, or licking my face. I'd wake up to see him laying on the bed beside me, just watching, with those beautiful, sad eyes. I don't know what I'll do without him, but I'll always be grateful for the short time I got to share this world with such a beautiful soul ... and he really, truly was.



This is a picture taken as he was watching over my cousin, who was sick with migraines while we were camping this summer at a reunion. Wolfie didn't know her, but jumped up on the bed to watch over her. He stayed there for hours, even as I had to leave to take care of the kids' races. I'm sure if he'd have been able to use a stethoscope and BP cuff he'd have done it.
He was a hilarious dog as well as a wise one. He'd been adopted as a puppy by a household of university students who taught him dozens of tricks. One of which was to bark loudly at knocking at the door until he was told the words to stop ...... which happened to be f* off! He never forgot that trick. It was a little embarrassing for me to explain to visitors why I was swearing behind the door ... especially when his hearing started to get bad and I had to yell it. He lived with the last of these students until Mick married and had children, and his wife didn't want a large dog around their babies. At 12, Mick was told Wolfie probably wasn't adoptable and would probably be put down. That's when I was asked to take him ... Mick was nearly inconsolable as he left ... I got to know within minutes just why they had all loved him so much. He was an amazing dog. Until very late in his illness, he still had the energy of a puppy. He'd race around the yard with his fetch toys until I'd have to stop him, afraid he'd collapse. He'd see me getting my shoes on to go out and be waiting at the door, with his tail wagging and eyes bright knowing we were about to go for a car ride, his favourite thing of all. My heart is broken, but it helps to tell you about him. I just pray he's in a wonderful place.