In Loving Memory of Muffy

She came to us in September of 1988, at just 5 weeks. She was the runt of the litter and yet both Donna and I chose her out of some 8 or so others. There was just something about her that caught our eye. Maybe it was because being smaller, her efforts to compete for food with her brothers and sisters showed a quality we both admired. Her mother was pure white and although we never saw the father, he was reportedly a champion of sorts and was your typical tan and black colouring. As you can see she was barely larger than my palm and on that cool September day, she became an intrical part of our lives, the extent of which would not become apparent for many years. On the drive home she cuddled close to my chest and thus started a relationship full of love and companionship. The first nite she wimpered and cried, no doubt missing the familiarity and security of her brothers and sisiters. Donna loves animals but she was not about to let her up onto the bed, especially since the task of house beaking,had not yet even started. So in an effort to reassure her, I laid with my arm dangling over the edge of the bed and I stroked and comforted her through her first nights. As a consequence, muff always slept on the floor beside me.

You'd never suspect by seeing the joy on Donna's face, what a feat it was to convince her to get Muff. She had always grown up around cats and smaller dogs, ( her parents had a Toy Poodle ) so when I suggested getting a German Sheppard, it was an uphill battle. Lengthy discussions about size, temperment and shedding were but some of the obsticles I had to overcome. This was barely a few days after we got her home and already she was nestling in and making herself comfortable. I think Donnas expression says it all.

Just one week after we brought her home, you can see how much she'd grown. Her posture was already strengthening and even the ears were starting to straighten. Even though she was the runt of the litter, you'd never have known it by how quickly she grew and developed. She loved being outdoors and we played for hours. At this stage, she still had difficulty mastering stairs and she'd get so frustrated, she'd wimper and whine but before long, she was bounding up and down without any effort. House breaking was a curious adventure where it became apparent that she'd have difficulty. She became comfortable enough with doing her business outside but due to her timid nature, she was easily excited and had more than a few accidents. As we later found out, Muffy was a pee'er and although it wasn't intentional, she needed medication to help control her bladder. Unfortunately, due to so many early mishaps, she always turned around and checked when she got excited, just making sure, even near the end. She actually became embarassed about the whole thing and would often droop her ears when she noticed us watching her.

She was such a playful puppy, getting into all the usual mischief that puppies do. At about 3 months, you can see how quickly she was starting to fill out. She was clearly twice the size of our Siamese cat, Sonny. Sonny wasn't overly thrilled by the new arrival but the house was big enough for both of them and they eventually became comfortable with each others presence and got along just fine.

By age one, she had gone through major transformations, not only in size but also her colouring. She had the most expressive face and the high lights of dark around those beautiful chocolate brown eyes would always soften my heart, even at those times when she did something bad. Talking about bad........we had just purchased a pull out sleeper couch. Both Donna and I had to work and instead of her usual basement lodgings, Donna decided she'd be more comfortable, locked in a second bedroom. Well before that couch ever got used, my dear Muffy decided to examine the construction. When we came home, we were greeted with bits and pieces of foam and material strewn all over the place. She had the most pathetic look on her face, she knew we'd be upset and that she'd done wrong and yet, even though we were very upset, we had to take at least partial blame for having locked her up. That was about the only time that she actually behaved in a destructive fashion. Look at her face and those eyes and I think you'd agree, it would be difficult to remain mad at her for long.

She loved going fishing but as you can see she wasn't thrilled with the catch. The very first time I took her, she was so excited. She always loved going for car rides and this was a whole new adventure. It was opening day of fishing season and the chill in the air hung heavy. I loaded up the boat and finally escored her along the dock and told her to jump in. I guess I should have been more accurate with my instructions because she proceeded to jump into the boat and then continued, right into the ice cold water. The expression on her startled face and the calamity that insued trying to get her back into the boat had everyone in stitches. Then ofcourse as if getting soaked hauling her out of the water wasn't enough, in typical dog fashion she proceeded to shake and shimmy all over, soaking me even more. I dried her off as best as I could and off we went. She was trembling with excitement as well as from the dampness of her coat and as we headed out to open water she snuggled between my legs and I wrapped one arm around her. Thereafter, whenever we headed out she always nestled herself in that position. On the actual occassion of catching the fish pictured, ( a 39 inch Musky ) she was so frightened by the trashing of the landed fish that she cowered on the bow of the boat with an expression on her face like " what the hell is that thing?". We spent many more summers fishing together and although she slept most of the time, I'll miss the comfort of her presence and knowing how much she loved being there with me.

Muff loved the water and every chance she got she'd go for a swim. On this particular occassion, about 7 yrs ago, it was late August and the water was as warm as soup and as still as a mirror. She loved fetching her favorite rubber ball and no matter how far I threw it, she'd swim out looking for it till she found it. We played and swam together till after the sun went down.

At the time of this pictures taking, my father was visiting and I clearly remember thinking how much Muff had come to mean to me and even back then the thought of not having her around brought a sadness over me. My father also loves animals but he displayed a notable dettachment. He liked her but I guess in his own way, didn't want to get too close to her. He too had had a Sheppard in his youth and I guess lossing him had hardened his heart to getting to attached and he hated showing emotions. I recall being annoyed at him for not being more affection towards her but it didn't matter, she greeted everyone as if they were long lost family and even he couldn't ignore her charms for long. It was shortly afterwards that we welcomed another new addition into our household, Buddy, a Champaign Miniture Poodle. We were concerned about the acceptance by both Muff and Sonny but our fears were soon laid to rest as Sonny viewed him as an occassional playmate and Muff as an infant figure she could nurture and protect. They all got along famously and our choice of Buddy as his name seemed so appropriate because that exactly what he turned out to be, for both Muff and Sonny.

This picture was taken shortly after moving into our current home, just a little over 4 and half years ago. I was exhausted from the move and I laid down for a nap, soon to be joined by the entire gang. They all loved to snuggle, especially Muff who would often come in and jump up, sprawl out and nestle close to me. Many a time I awoke to find my arm draped over her. I guess the warmth of her, along with her deep sighs comforted me. Some of my deepest and most restful sleeps were with her by my side. If there was one outstanding characteristic about Muffs' personality, it was she always loved being with you, even when nothing was going on. I guess that, more than anything was her most endearing quality, she liked being around you.

As you can see there was not only harmony between them but in fact a bond. Muffy was the link, which by her gentle nature and personality made it easy for both Buddy and Sonny to view her as a mother figure. Muff was very protective of both of them and if one got out of line she'd be there to smooth things over. It always amazed me that even when one or the other, playfully tormented her, she never , not once lost her patience. She could have easily made a snack out of either of them but it was not in her to harm anything or anyone, especially family.

This was taken a little over a year ago, just before discovering that Muff had bone cancer. One day while playing with her, I tapped her front right leg, trying to get her to shake a paw. She yelped and Donna fearing I had hurt her, angrily asked what I was doing to her. I told her that I barely tapped her front paw causing her to react in pain. At first we thought that maybe she had bumped or bruised it while either playing or going up and down stairs. Thereafter she walked with a slight limp which got progressively worse until about two weeks later I took her to the Vets. By now a small bump had formed and it was obvious that this was more than a simple bump or sprain. The Vet suggested getting an x-ray to see exactly what the problem was. He said it could be a possible fracture or maybe even a tumour. The possibilly hadn't even enter my thoughts that maybe it was something more sinister and potentially life threatening. I told him I wanted to talk to Donna first so we went home and Donna agreed we had to know for sure what was hurting our baby. We both went back and had the x-ray taken while we waited. Our hearts sank when the Vet said that it appeared to be cancer of the bone. He said that doing a biopsy was the only way to be 100% sure but doing so , tended to speed up the growth.

He gave us two options, 1. do the biopsy, confirm the diagnosis, amputate her leg and put her on expensive and often illness producing chemo therapy. This option afforded her an estimated six months to one year of life expectancy. Our second choice was to do nothing, take her home and treat her as we always had. This option gave her four to maybe six months. We couldn't imagine amputating her leg and giving her therapy that would make her sick. Although we were not in a financial position to consider the first choice, had we been given a more encouraging prognosis, I'm sure we would have opted for it and done whatever it took to give her a chance at extending her life. As it was presented to us, the Vet suggested the second option. We asked point blank, " if it were your dog, what would you do?" and he replied, " make her as comfortable as you can, enjoy the time you have left with her and when the time comes, do the right thing".

As long as i live, November the 7th will remain a dark day in my life. It started out normal enough but by late afternoon it took a turn which was both unexpected and devastating. For the previous week or two I had been hinting to Donna that maybe it was time to prepare for the inevidable, putting Muff to sleep. Every time I tried broaching the subject she looked at me with disbelief, as if I was a insensitive to even contemplate such an action. For the past two or three nights Muffys breathing had become laboured and although not sounding painful was difficult to ignore. She would lay down and sigh deeply, almost an exasperated moan of sorts. Saturday morning came , like any other and Donna headed out to do some early morning shopping. While she was out, I'm not sure why, I decided to take the pictures you see here. I guess because it had been so long since I had last taken any pictures of her and probably because we didn't have any showing just how large the tumour had grown. As I downloaded them to my computer I noticed the sadness in her eyes and the pitiful expression on her face and I knew that the time was rapidly approaching. While Donna was still out I turned on the TV and of all the programs to come across, I landed on one dedicated to dealing with the loss of a pet. Needless to say, that did it, I started crying, knowing that Muffs time was near. When Donna got home I told her about the program and we talked about it over lunch about how hard it would be when the time was right. Hell there is no right time, its not something you can plan. Suprisingly after a chat with her mom, Donna approached me, asking if we should consider putting Muff down.

We talked for a bit about it and even tired convincing ourselves to put it off till Monday or even later. We sat in silence for the longest time and Donna finally said, we can't drag this out, doing it a day or two from now would only make us feel even worse. She called the Vets to see if they could take her and they said we could bring her in at 3:30, it was 2:45 at the time. I sat totally numb, not knowing what to do or say. I kept looking at the clock wishing it would stop but ofcourse the minutes ticked by. Muff was laying down in the bedroom and I went in to see her. She was just lying there, half asleep and I laid down beside her and started weeping. I stroked her head and back, talking to her, telling her how much we loved her and how hard it was going to be. Muff loved licking my face and would often do so at length but she hadn't done so for quite some time. Almost as if to say " its okay, I understand " she licked me over and over and ofcourse that only made me feel worse. At quarter after three we got her leash and told her we were going for a ride. Oh how she loved car rides and in typical fashion she actually pranced around with excitement.

Buddy was always close to Muff so when it came time to go, he was aggitated at not being allowed to accompany us. Both the guys would always lay by the door by which we departed until our return and this was the last time they actually spent together.

As you can see, poor Muffs leg look aweful and repeated attempts at bandaging her now open sore were futile. Just the week before the tumor had stretched her skin to the limit and it started bleeding profusely. We took her to the Vets and he bandaged her up and afterwards, we watched closely hoping that maybe it would heal, or at the very least not get worse. I had just replaced the bandage about an hour before taking these pictures and already the blood was beginning to soak through. That in combination with Donnas conversation with her mother, her laboured breathing and overall poor state forced us to finally admit to ourselves that the time had come.

Once at the Vets, Muff was suprisingly calm and almost relaxed compared to usual. Typically she hated going and once there would often shake and cower close. Thank goodness there was no one else in the waiting room and we were escorted right into the office. Both Donna and I were silent except for the occassional reassurance we tried to offer her. Finally, after what seemed forever, the Vet came in and explained the procedure. In essence he was going to give her an overdose of anaesthetic. He told us it was totally painless and quick. What I didn't know, understand or comprehend at the time was that it was done in one continuous action. In other words, I didn't see my beloved dog fall asleep and then pass away quietly, but rather witnessed her literally drop dead before my eyes. The Vet had tried injecting her in the front paw but she had jerked and the needle came out forcing him to try in her hind leg. I guess enough of the drug had entered her system on the first try that she was noticably quieter. Even still, I was not prepared for what followed. I was holding Muffs collar in my left hand and stroking her head with the other. I leaned forward and I rubbed my nose against hers, hoping she'd lick me. She turned her head away and I laughed, " saying I don't blame you ". She looked back at me and then her head dropped suddenly to the table, eyes still open. I was still stroking her and leaning down to say a few more comforting words when the Vet said, " she's probably gone already". That image still haunts me and try as I may, it's near impossible to pry such an image from ones mind. I felt as if I had killed her and the guilt I felt immediately afterwards was unbearable. I honestly expected her to slowly drift off quietly before being given the final dose, but thats not what happened. Even as write this, my throat has a lump the size of a basketball and I'm fighting the tears.

Since that day, nothing seems the same, the house is far less than it was, both Sonny and Buddy are more demanding of our attentions and in general, there is a void, not only spacially but in our hearts. Donnas already talking about getting another sheppard, this coming from the woman I had to near beg, some 10 years earlier but I want to wait, maybe someday. Me......well, every morning I awake and through habit, always check before planting my feet on the floor to make sure I don't step on Muff. I miss her sorely and only time will help heal this emptiness and sadness that blankets me and yet I wouldn't trade one second of having her companionship and love for anything.

Thank you for having taken the time to share Muffy's life with me. In preparing this, it helped deal with the loss and at the same time, payed tribute to her. In a very real sense, she lives on through you the reader, who now know her and what she meant to all those who ever came in contact with her. May the flame within our hearts never fade nor forget the joys we shared.