The "Master's" Teacher

It is so incredibly hard to put into words just what it meant to have to decide if it was time to put down our oldest four-legged child.

Thor was the puppy that nobody wanted. Classic story--Hubby and I were getting married in a couple of months, and Hubby wanted a dog. I didn't like big dogs, was even a little afraid of big dogs, but agreed that rescuing animals from a shelter was something we could definitely do. I owed a house (the same hovel we're in today) with a big yard, and because of my love for my then soon-to-be husband, we went to the Animal Shelter in Podunk. I found the dog I wanted--he was small, part Heeler, and cute as a button. Hubby kept pointing to this already large puppy with HUGE paws that was distinctly part Rot. I asked Hubby again about the small button cute puppy, and Hubby just kept watching the large puppy. The shelter manager, a co-worker of mine, advised us that the large puppy had been there so long, that if he wasn't adopted, he would be put down on Monday. This was late Thursday afternoon.

So Friday a friend and I went to Wal-Mart, and as I had never had a dog, and didn't know what we really needed, we bought random crap (we did know to get a dog bowl, leash, collar, food), and on Friday afternoon, the large puppy came home with me. Hubby had to leave town, but the puppy wasn't named. The puppy had already had multiple messes, and I have a thing for animals named after mythology, but I couldn't remember the name of the god of rain. Jokingly, I suggested Thor, god of thunder, because that usually was followed by rain. Hubby liked it, and thus Thor was named.

Thor grew to be an 80 pound dog, and was determined to be part Rot, part Doberman, and part German Shepard. Thor insisted on taking what we thought was forever to be housebroken...of course, he really just needed to be trained properly. Thor taught us all about patience.

Thor had to sleep so that one of us was within sight. The kitchen, downstairs, was linoleum, and therefore it was okay if he piddled there--not on my hardwood floors elsewhere. So many a night we spent taking turns sleeping on the couch so that Thor could see us. This was where I learned that loving something sometimes means stepping out of my comfort zone, and where Hubby learned that it was okay to stand up to his parents (we weren't married, and the thought of him sleeping at my house--when I was at work even--was a horrid thought). Later Thor would insist on sharing my twin-sized bed with me, and I learned that there's always room for those we love.

When the town caught on fire, Thor and the crew moved into my parents' house with me. Thor had a knack for believing that he was the one in charge, and that meant that Thor climbed into the driver's seat any chance he got. As the town was evacuating, and I raced from work to be sure my parents and animals were leaving safely, I'll never forget the look on my father's face as Thor sat in the driver's seat, waiting to take them out of the flames. Thor would then be transferred to Hubby, and Hubby's family, to wait for permission to return home. Hubby's father took a liking to Thor, and took Thor running. This is where I learned that my father-in-law had greater depths than I once thought.

I brought home a kitten, and Thor studious watched the cat carry the kitten, too little to go up and down stairs on his own, in her mouth. Thor proceeded to pick up the kitten in his mouth to transport the kitten around, scaring the bejeezers out of me. This is where I was reminded that it doesn't matter what we are--the need to assist and protect is in every one of God's creatures.

Thor loved to explore and would jump our four foot (five feet in some areas) fence in the backyard. Thor would wander the neighborhood, and all of the neighbors knew Thor. A good reminder that we should all know our neighbors. Once, while jumping the fence, Thor tore his ACL or a tendon or something in his knee. Thor was not even 3 years old, and we had to take him to an orthopedic surgeon for dogs. I spent a month taking Thor every week for a check up, and we spent a fortune for his surgery. I learned that money is nothing more than paper, life--and the quality of life--cannot have a price tag put on it.

Thor was fabulous with small children. He let children pull on his tail, his ears, etc. Children could climb on Thor, and Thor wouldn't even flinch. Thor was always careful about his kisses--Thor wasn't a licker. A lick from Thor was truly a kiss, a rare and precious experience. Thor had no trouble kissing children...a lesson that children should always be kissed.

With each new animal that came home with us, Thor lead the pack. Thor would teach the other puppies about going outside to do business, the proper way to wait to be fed, staying off the furniture...and he taught the last puppy about jumping the fence as well :) Thor walked proud before the pack, leading the way. Thor would even take the leash from us and walk himself. More importantly than leading the other animals, Thor lead us down a path we never would have known without him. Thor taught me to try new experiences, not to be afraid of something just because I always have been, that love is so much bigger than myself, and that there's nothing like a puppy dog to spoon with after a hard day.

In the end, Thor had dwindled to 46 pounds. It didn't stop him until the last two days of his life from jumping, running, playing with the other dogs, or chasing the kitten. And in his final two days, it didn't stop him from leaning on us, following us, and trying to do what he thought would make us happy. In his final minutes, it didn't stop Thor from gathering enough strength to walk--which he had stopped doing the last day of his life--to me and pushing his head into my hand. It didn't stop him from pushing his head up on Hubby's chest in a final hug. And that taught me that we never stop trying for those we love.

The hole left in me by Thor's death, the tears shed by all of us knowing that he had lost the battle for recovery from whatever was ailing him, and the pain that it brought to Hubby, are huge reminders of what we've lost. The lessons learned while being blessed to have had Thor as a family member for 9 years will never be lost.