Comfortably Numb

I'll get right to it. I took Smokey in to be euthanized today after he had bitten both Clay and me in the past week, drawing blood, and without provocation. There was no question about what to do. The dog was never going to be adoptable and it wasn't safe or responsible to keep him or certainly to ever place him in a home where he'd be anything but isolated. So it was the right decision, but still it sucks.

In Clay's case, he went for and bit his hand as Clay was reached for an empty food dish. In mine, he went for me when I made a move in the direction of his food, that was all. Way over the top inappropriate reactions. He's always had aggressive reactions, it's just all he knew.

Smokey was dealt a shitty hand in this life. From what we know about Smokey's background he had been purchased as a puppy by an old man and put "out back" in a small kennel. I'd be willing to bet he had been separated from his litter before he should have been so he never learned how to relate to dogs. All his reactions from that point on were based on fear. The old man probably never did much with the dog and then he died and from that point on he was lucky to even get enough food to survive. He knew even less about relating to humans than he did about dogs. They had to get an animal control officer out to get Smokey extracted from his pen and into a crate before he came here.

I was hopeful that with some time and the example of other dogs that he'd come around. He did make some progress, but mostly it went this long because we were always extremely careful to avoid a bite incident because I knew that would be the end. He just never learned to dog. He wouldn't come out to the pasture to play, he'd stay holed up in his shed to protect it and himself instead of coming out to have fun. He did enjoy our walks, but even getting a leash on him concerned me because it meant reaching for his head.

Shepherds are supposed to bond with a person and he was just incapable of that. He would literally bite the hand that fed him. He did have some good times here at least.

I hate sharing this kind of news, but rescue work has a dark, ugly side to it and I don't hide very much of it. We've been fostering for over 19 years now, I guess, and the number of dogs we've euthanized for behavior issues is blessedly small, but it still sucks and I hate it. I know that we didn't give Smokey the best possible chance, but I think we gave him more of a chance than most anyone else would have done. I don't feel guilty, but I do feel bad. It sucks.

I got him to the vet after medicating him pretty heavily this morning. I even managed to get a muzzle on him without getting bit again. The vet gave him a serious sedative and I sat on the floor with him as it took effect. It was the most that I had ever touched Smokey, and I think it's safe to say that it's the most human contact he had ever had in his entire life. That sucks.

The end was quiet and peaceful and I'm glad I could share that with him at least. Living with a level of stress so high that it produces aggressive behavior can not be pleasant. I'm not a religious person, or even "spiritual" whatever that means. I'm pretty much a stone cold rational realist, but I do hope that Smokey gets another go around at life and gets a better shot at it than he had this time. Smokey's problems were entirely man-made: adopted out of the litter too soon by someone who was breeding for money; and never properly socialized or trained by a human. We've seen it with too many dogs and it's particularly problematic with shepherds. It also makes me more determined than ever to give Della's Dozen a good start, with plenty of time with their mother and litter mates, not to be shipped out the door at the first possible moment.

I left the vet's office relieved that it was over without anyone getting hurt, but also feeling bad for Smokey. It just sucks. When I got back in the van the song that was playing was Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb." It pretty much summed up how I was feeling and possibly how Smokey was feeling at the end. At least he wasn't in pain and wasn't under stress or living in fear any more.