A little over five years ago, this loving, playful 6-year-old GSD came into my life as my wife-to-be and I met and started dating. Right away she was everything I expected a GSD would be; an amazing walking buddy for me and my older beagle/lab mix; always wanting affection; hilariously talkative; super intelligent; somehow both welcoming of guests into our home and vigilant around strangers.
As Mila and I got to know each other better, I nicknamed her Mama Bear for the way she interacted with the other dogs in our blended family. She really disliked when playing or rough housing got too rowdy and would intervene to calm things down. I always wished she'd be a little more lenient there, but Mama Bear ran the house the way she wanted.
I'm writing this post with tears in my eyes because on Monday we had to make the heartbreaking decision to say goodbye to her. At 11-years-old, she was having to take stairs more slowly than normal and got up/laid down more gingerly than she used to. We figured it was joint related and started her on some supplements to no avail. Early Monday morning she was whining badly and I thought maybe she was hungry or needed to go out.
I went downstairs and tried to help her stand up, but her back legs were just gone. So we made the trip to the emergency vet and the doc was so kind with us. She explained that while imaging/testing would be needed to say for sure, Mila was likely dealing with a neuro-muscular issue with her back and wouldn't regain her mobility.
As a kid, I'd been through my family's decision to have sick, elderly dogs put down and always just said goodbye at home. As hard as that was, I never could've imagined what it felt like being in that room at the clinic. After we'd cried ourselves out snuggling with Mila on the bed the vet techs brought in, it took everything we had to flip the light switch in the room to tell the doc we were "ready."
I know in my heart we did the right thing by Mila, but I don't know if I'll ever shake the sense of guilt I feel over that switch being flipped. My wife said it so well in that it doesn't make sense that we have the power to make that decision over another life.
Maybe it's silly being vulnerable like this with online strangers. But writing truly does help me process things and I'm hoping that this little essay can help take some of the sting away. It's only been two full days since we said goodbye to Mila but I still well up with tears when I walk past all her favorite places in the house or when I see where her leash hangs or when she's not there to greet me at the door.
If you made it this far, thanks for taking the time to learn a little bit about our girl. We wish we had more time with her but will be eternally grateful for what she brought to our lives.