All Dogs Go To Heaven

I tell people I rescued Dona from a pet store. I walked into the most ghetto pet store in Phoenix one day, looking to buy a fish, and stumbled upon puppies in a plastic pool for sale. How was I just going to leave one there? Puppies should not be kept in a plastic pool, in a store that usually only sells reptiles and fish. I wanted a girl dog. They brought me a girl dog from the back, Lord knows where she was actually kept in the back, and she pooped in the aisle as they brought her to me. I knew she was my dog.

I named her Dona after a character in a Philip K. Dick novel. I shortened it to one N, because I thought that suited a dog better. After six months with my little yellow dog, she caught Parvo. A week in the vet ICU, and she was better. When she was one, we met the man that is now my husband. She loved him right away, took to him better than she had anyone else I introduced her to. They were friends, and it made me happy. When I moved home during college, my mom and step-dad helped me take care of her. They watched her as I worked a full time job, went to school full time, and then student taught full time. We all loved Dona, even if she was grumpy and hated other dogs.

When she was two, husband and I moved to Alaska. Dona came with, of course. While in Alaska, she made friends with some other dogs, became nicer to new people, and was so patient with our daughter.

However, her aggression towards animals never fully went away. It would lie dormant for long periods of time, then flair up without warning, leaving a path of sadness in its wake. She is a good dog, don't get me wrong, she is just not a sweet dog. That is not a word that describes Dona. In our new neighborhood, in the first house we have ever owned, there is no fence. Fences are SO expensive - she is chained up to the tree in the backyard, because I know her behavior, and it is safest this way.

Yesterday, I made the mistake of allowing her some rare time off leash. It was during the day when I know not many people are out walking their dogs, and thought it would be okay. I was watching her the whole time... Suddenly she just took off. Ran right over to a neighbor walking his dogs on leash, and attacked his small dog. It was unprovoked. It was scary. I found out that this dog is okay, thank God, but it made me realize that Dona's time has come to an end. As it was pointed out to me, dogs can't speak. No shit, right? The point this person was trying to make to me was that they have no voice to tell us what is wrong, so to not give up on her, to not have her put down. I want so badly to believe she would be able, at nine-years-old, to find a couple with no children, no dogs or other animals, with a tall fence, and that she would be happy. But she wouldn't be. Because she has only ever had me, and then my husband. If anything, she would become people aggressive, and bite her new people. They would put her down, and she would go out of this world surrounded by strange faces and anger.

I do not want this for her. She is my girl. My first girl. She taught me patience. Compassion. Really, she taught me how to love unselfishly, and I needed that when I was 21. I am her voice, and I am letting her go peacefully, surrounded by my love, and my arms. Just as I rescued her from that plastic pool as a puppy, I will now rescue her from her self. That's my gift to her.

......

Dona stayed in my arms until the end today. I held her, and sang her "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". She left knowing she was loved.

See you in heaven, my yellow friend.