Old Yeller, Marley and Me..Now It's My Turn.

We all love to hate movies like Old Yeller or Marley and Me. Heck, even Air Bud got me to tear up, and the dog didn't even die! These movies tug at our heartstrings so cleverly and evilly. Drawing us in with cute puppy faces, then laughing and smiling at every doggy bath time escape, and upturned trash can scene. 

The fact is, everyone at some point has the 'it' dog in their life. This time around I had the 'it' dog. When I was in the second grade I begged and pleaded with my parents to have a dog. They caved and I got to pick out a golden retriever. At the young age I was, I had a big hero (still do), and I couldn't think of any better way to honor my hero than naming my new found best friend after him. So my puppy was rightly named "DJ". If anyone knows my favorite team, they'll deduce that he was named after the Yankee's rockstar shortstop Derek Jeter. 

Throughout the years of growing up together, DJ and I had many hours spent in the backyard playing soccer and football together. As he grew up, he got bigger than I did, and as he tried to tackle me, he just bit my sleeve, and pulled me to the ground. He's the dog that would go to the beach with me on family trips, and run miles along the coast line in the sand during football season when I needed to stay fit. In the house, he'd always be right be me, in ANY room I was at. 

He was always a dog that never peed in the house, or got into trash. Dj was intelligent. He knew the rights and wrongs to things. He really was awesome. Always greeted me at the door or gate when I got home. Had a near panic attack when I would leave for a few days. Dj loved me to death. I loved him. He was everything anyone could ask for in a dog. 

By now, the past tense verbs and adjectives I've been using, you can guess that he's not here anymore. 

We had to put him to sleep yesterday. After a night in LA with my family, girlfriend and friends, I slept in a little bit. 9:00am rolls around, and I'm woken up to my bed shaking. I roll over to see what's going on, and DJ's halfway under the bed, moving pretty vehemently. Running on his side, almost. I figured he was either trying to get something, or something was wrong. After trying to get his attention, and not getting it, I saw that something was wrong. After a few seconds of waiting it out, DJ crawls out a bit and comes to his senses for a sec. I let him sit there and get my mom to see if she can tell any difference with him. He had peed in the room, and when we came back into the room, he was hiding behind the door with this wildly dazed look in his eyes. I could just see the fear behind them because he never does that in the house, and he knew it too. He just didn't realize how he did it. 

About an hour later I'm in the room next to him, and I hear something stirring up again. I walk over to check on him, and he's 'running' again. I yell at my mom to get in there, and he's seizing for the second time. We hold him and just like a human, make sure he doesn't hurt himself by moving so much. At this point we're both a complete wreck, because we realize how this is coming down. 

To spare even more of a lengthy post than this already is, within the two hours (9:00am to 11:00am) he had anywhere from 10-15 seizures. I was a complete wreck, knowing that my childhood best friend is slipping away from who he used to be. We get to the vet, and doctors tell us that it's neurological, and would cost more to save him and not even have strong results back, than to just have him go to sleep for good. I swear to you, that was so hard for me to just get the words "alright, let's have him sleep" out. Seeing him laying on that table in the back room at the vet, petting his hair one last time, rubbing him right behind his ears, I couldn't even get a tail wag out of him. All I could say to him was "Come on D, we gotta go back to the beach one more time. Just get better. Just stay fixed. We gotta go run one more time." That's all I could keep saying, and he couldn't even look up at me, he was that far gone already. I walked out of the room at that point and sat out in the parking lot. I have his one and only collar from the years I had him, and now a small part of him is going to be riding with me in the car, as it's hanging on my rearview mirror. It hurts to come home and not see him, but just like time, I have to make myself move on. He'll always be my Big Red Dj. 

Me and DJ two Christmases ago.