THE OLD BOYKIN SPANIEL

Weezy is 16 years old, and his glory years are long gone. A once beautiful body full of auburn hair has faded and is so thin that there is only skin where the hair used to be. He no longer sees, and walking appears to be painful for him. Yet, he manages to gingerly make a circle in the grass surrounding the pool, do his business and return to the carport, where he sleeps at least 23 hours a day. His gait is so unsteady that I swear it looks like he will fall over at any moment. He doesn't. When Paddy and I are outside, I always greet him by briefly stroking his head while murmuring a prayer for him. Paddy isn't sure about him and doesn't even attempt the usual rear smelling that dogs seem to do as they greet other dogs. He knows Weezy will not be on this earth much longer.

About 6 months ago, my neighbor grew disgusted with Weezy's incontinence and moved him outside his townhouse. We had a cold winter, and many of those nights were in the '20s. A heat lamp was next to his cage, hopefully keeping him warm. The days are warmer now, but I've begun to see my neighbor's truck gone from his house at night. Years ago, this man took his dog to work and on dates, but the aging dog has lost his cuteness. When I walk past his carport, the dog is usually asleep on a small bed by the front door.

I've thought long and hard about what action I should take about Weezy. His owner knows I'm upset about it. He's troubled, too, but doesn't know what to do. "He was the best hunting dog I ever owned. It kills me that he's now in this shape. I'm hoping I'll go out on the carport one morning and find him dead," he told me recently. He added, "One morning, he wasn't moving, and I was sure Weezy had died, but he raised his head as soon as I touched him."

I could call Animal Control and report abandonment or neglect, but they'd pick him up and keep him in a cage until his owner came to claim him. That is, IF he claimed him! I realized that those few days in a cage in unfamiliar surroundings would be disorienting and cruel to the old dog. I couldn't live with the fact that I was responsible for any additional suffering the dog would endure. Besides, I keep telling myself that it isn't my business or responsibility.

Every day, I see an aged dog that at one time was loved and still loves his master unconditionally. He's been left to fend for himself––deaf, arthritic, and blind. And every day, I pray that he'll go to sleep and not wake up.

Today, I told myself I would approach Weezy's owner and ask him if he'd like me to take Weezy to the vet to be euthanized. This man often becomes enraged at the actions of our HOA board president but has always been friendly with me. There's a part of me that worries he'll scream at me and tell me it's none of my business. He's right; it isn't my business but seeing an animal that's practically been abandoned is heartbreaking.

I know firsthand how difficult it is to euthanize a beloved animal. I've had to make that decision for elderly and sick dogs. I had to do that with a dog that wouldn't stop biting people seven years ago. Even today, it hurts me that I had to lose him. He wanted to live. His behavior made that impossible.

Sometimes, you must step out of what you want to do and do what's best for someone you love. It takes courage and selflessness.

Caring for animals is a lifetime commitment. Making difficult decisions is part of taking responsibility for loved ones. I keep thinking of the old movie from 1969, "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?"

I needed the courage to at least try and do what was right.

One week later:  I kept trying to summon the courage to approach the dog's owner and inwardly wept while watching the dog painfully walk on the rare occasions he left the carport. We had more days with the temperature reaching 90, and I knew the dog would suffer as the temperature continued to climb.

I decided to spontaneously catch him outside when he came home, but it wasn't happening. He'd either come back late and leave early or not come home at all. At least he left food and water for Weezy.

Yesterday, he called to tell me he would sell his house soon. As we chatted about the poor state of our HOA board, our conversation drifted toward Weezy. "How's Weezy doing?" I cheerfully asked while trying to free my voice of any judgment. "Oh, he's completely incontinent now. I know it's getting near the end. I have a hard time deciding what to do. I don't want my (grown) children to think you should be euthanized when you're old, blind, and incontinent."

I asked if he wanted me to take the dog to the vet. He indicated that he had plans with a friend to go with him "when the time comes." I told him I would ensure Weezy had food and water if he was gone for a long time. He appreciated my offer and assured me it would be very soon that he'd do something about Weezy.

A few days later, I no longer saw Weezy.  All dogs go to heaven, don't they?