Euolgy for a Rottweiler

About three months ago, I looked out my front door because my dogs were barking and saw a big black gangly-looking dog standing in my driveway. My first thought was that he was another throw-away, but when I looked at him, I saw he was a full-blooded Rottweiler. Yelldo, my beagle-dachsund mix, chased the dog from my yard, but he ran back to my neighbor's house instead of blindy away into the woods. This was my first encounter with Rufus.

Rufus continued to visit my yard. He and my pit bull, Roux, became really good friends. Roux finally had somebody her size, and Rufus and she would play tug with a rope toy and take turns bowling each other over. I was extremely wary at first when they started to play that Rufus' puppy enthusiasm and size would trigger the pit bull rage in Roux, but even at their roughest, she merely found him amusing. He became such a part of our lives that he was waiting outside every morning for Roux and Yelldo to come outside. The three of them would greet and head off for a day of dog fun somewhere.

It was a long time before he would get up enough courage to allow me to pet him. Once he did, though, he was such a sweet, playful, loving giant puppy. Every time I saw him, it seemed he'd multiplied in size by two or three times, and recently, he'd outstripped Roux in height if not in weight. He always politely came to see me when he was in the yard, and I'd rub behind his floppy ears and tell him he was a good boy. Like Rotties do, he'd look at me with those big happy chocolate eyes and lick my hands.

Two days ago, Roux and Yelldo went outside for the day, and I noticed that once again, Rufus was in the yard. He wasn't playful this time, though. He was simply lying on the grassy hill near the driveway. When Roux nudged him, he struggled to his feet and the three moved away.

I didn't really think much about it until yesterday. He couldn't seem to get up. After checking him for wounds, I helped him over to one of the outside water dishes for the dogs thinking perhaps he was just too overheated in our 102 degree summer heat. He drank a little, and then simply lay with his head on the edge of the bowl.

I drove over to my neighbor's house to tell them that something was seriously wrong with Rufus. They said he'd been acting like this for several days. He wasn't eating, and he was drinking very little. While the woman was worried, the man couldn't be moved to take Rufus to the vet. I told her how serious I was afraid things were, and she said she'd make the man take Rufus to the vet this morning. I came back and tried to get him to eat something, but he wouldn't take treats or canned Alpo. He just lay in the yard looking so sad.

When I woke up, Rufus was still in my yard. I turned Roux and Yelldo out, and the next time I looked out a few hours later, I didn't see him. I assumed that he'd either gone home or that the neighbors had come and gotten him. Around noon, I stepped out to get something out of my car to find him lying right up next to the house at the end of the porch heaving for every breath.

I lifted him, and his bowels let go. I washed him and myself off and tried to get a little water down him, but he couldn't even swallow. I came in the house to get a towel, and I just broke down sobbing. Dad was here helping me put together some shelves I'd bought, and he and I lifted Rufus into the back of his pickup truck, wrapped him in a towel, and got ready to rush him back over to my neighbor's when suddenly Rufus stopped breathing. I shook him and massaged his chest until he started breathing again, but he was in such horrible shape.

We got him back over to the neighbors and got them to come out and realize how serious his condition was. They loaded him into their truck and headed for the vet. Several hours later, the man came by to let me know that Rufus died about halfway to town. The vet said he may have swallowed some poison.

Why, oh why, didn't they take him on earlier? Legally, there was nothing I could do. I did not own him, and no vet would have treated him if I'd taken him in since I wasn't his owner. He was such a precious dog, good and loyal, gentle and strong in that way that the best of Rotties always are. He was just a puppy; I doubt he was even a year old yet. How could any human with any sort of claim to that title look at something as filled with love as that dog was and not provide for him?

In the end, all I could do for him was stroke him, cry for him, and tell him that no matter what had gone on with the people who were supposed to care for him and protect him that he was loved here in this yard by me. I hope that Rufus is safe and happy somewhere now beyond the pain of neglectful owners.

I always imagine that all the animals I love are in heaven at play in the fields of the Lord. I can't imagine a heaven without those beautiful friends God put into my life to love and care for. I hope that Rufus just left his poor ravaged body behind and woke to a place where he'll never suffer anymore. Let this be his eulogy then. Let this be the highest honor I can utter: He was a good dog, and I will miss his nose pressed up against my window. He was a good dog, and I will look for him in my yard every morning. He was a good dog, and he deserved much, much better than he was given.