goodbye zoe

Yesterday I said goodbye to someone who had been in my life for fifteen and a half years. It was one of the saddest moments of my life.

As a kid, the only thing I wanted more than a dog was a horse. Very early on it was made clear that I would never get a dog (let alone a horse), though I continued to try it on now and again, just in case. As a result, I didn't get a dog until I was in a stable enough position to properly care for one. After years of transient living I was finally ready -- and that dog was Zoe.

In 1991, after a year of teaching English in Greece, I went through a rough few months and was slowly getting back into The Real World, which meant on-call teaching and volunteering at an animal shelter in the inner-city neighbourhood where we were living. The moment I saw Zoe I completely fell for her. She was a little spitfire, a German Shepherd cross about 12 weeks old, but the woman who ran the shelter said she was only boarding the pup for a friend and therefore wasn't available. A month later she was still there, so I asked again. This time she admitted that the puppy was her dog, the last unclaimed pup in a litter, and had decided that she couldn't keep her after all. She was over her bylaw limit of two dogs so had told everyone the phony story. I had finally resigned myself to adopting another dog, but at that news I scooped her immediately and the four month old pup was home within the hour.

She turned out to be everything I ever dreamed: clever (house trained within 24 hours), dutiful, lots of fun and completely fearless. And oh, such a beauty. She learned to respect cats, to be a perfect watchdog (the poor mailman!), to protect and play gently with the babies who joined the family, to accept another dog (Zappa) with grace, to endure the pain of rupturing the anterior cruciate ligaments in both knees (1999 and 2001) and manage the long road to recovery.

After the second surgery five years ago she was suddenly an old dog. She was always a participant in family life, though, and always in good spirits. Eventually going for walks was out of the question. But she still loved going camping or on holiday. The journey to and from our various destinations required recovery time, but once there, she enjoyed herself immensely. She took over watchdog duties like a good girl while we headed out with Zappa for more active pursuits.

Just a few weeks ago she started declining rapidly. First, she could no longer manage to walk up even one stair, then she couldn't stand up when she'd been lying on a floor. Yesterday morning my deaf, frail old pooch could no longer walk. I knew the moment I saw her all those years ago that I wanted her and almost 16 years later I knew the moment it was time to let her go. Fortunately she loved going to the vet: so much to see, dog treats to eat, butts to sniff. But she was tired and ready to go. Greg and I were both there and she departed peacefully. I already miss her like crazy.

A quick chronological slide show is here.