"Thor"

February 27, 1992 - February 26, 2004

His name was Thor---or it would be once he came to live with my husband and I. We actually went there to pick out a dog for my husband. His Bernese Mountain Dog had succumbed to Systemic Histiocytosis. It was hard, but now it was time to pick another companion. The sooner the grief stopped, the better. At least that was what I always believed. We had already found a companion for me...an Irish Wolfhound---a dog I had always wanted since the first time I had seen one. Such magnificent animals!! Now it was my husband's turn to find one that suited him. I had been seeing this ad in the paper for a breed that I didn't recognize...Fila Brasiliero. Curiosity finally got the better of me and I called to see what exactly they were. I came away impressed. We made an appointment to look at the puppies and went that next weekend.

Right away, a beautiful female attached herself to Gar, my husband. Literally, she attached herself to his pant leg and wouldn't let go. His dog was chosen...there was no question about that. In the meantime one of the pups caught my attention. He had this magnificent head and he was large, powerfully built and kind of goofy, as puppies tend to be. And already I was falling under a spell that would last the rest of my life. The only problem was we were not there to get a dog for me. Mine was already at home. I reluctantly said goodbye to the pup that had already snared my soul and joined my husband as he paid the deposit on the female, and detached her teeth from his pant leg.

Two weeks passed and it was time to pick the female up. The breeder called me and told me that they were dropping the price on the male, so was I interested? I couldn't get that pup out of my head. I told her yes. When my husband came home that day, I told him that the male was still available and they were dropping the price. I was worried that someone would try and buy him to make him mean. Filas are a somewhat different breed---they are used to hunt jaguars and poachers in Brazil, so temperament wise they tend to be a bit much for some people. I told my husband that I was worried about the pup's future. He agreed with me and when we went to get the female we also paid a deposit on the male. Thor came to live with us two days later.

From the start he was the sweetest, smartest and could be the most stubborn dog I had ever met. It took me three weeks of dragging him around the back yard before he understood that a leash meant actually leaving the yard, not punishment! His command of the English language was frightening. I have never seen a dog that I could hold a conversation with and have them understand. Thor could. His vocabulary was enormous. And training was a breeze. He also would obsess---I mentioned one time that it would be NICE if they would pick up their toys...three LARGE pups in a one bedroom house was a bit crowded. From that day on, Thor would pick up the toys and put them in the "Lions, Tigers and Bears" crate. We had purchased one of the giant crates---sometimes you just need to get a shower and with three pups---well. I'm sure you get the idea. Thor would go so far as to start barking at the invisible menace to get the other dogs to drop the toys so that he could put them away.

As time went on, Thor proved himself time and time again. At the age of two years his elbows went from bad to horrible. We tried everything we could think of and finally took him in for surgery. The surgeon's office told me that his right leg would have to be amputated. It was hard but if that is what it took, I knew Thor would adjust. The surgeon's office called me as they had him in and told me that they had x-rayed his other elbow. And that surgery would not help, so they would just put him to sleep with my permission. I told them if they so much as TOUCHED that dog, I would come down on them like the wrath of God. And I went and picked up my dog. He would live for another 9 and 1/2 years.

In that time, he saved me from a giant snake---a sixteen foot python, from a few other dangerous situations and near misses...always with grace and style. He adored his sister and his adopted brother---he wouldn't disobey if it meant his life and he was the best creature I have ever had the privilege to adore.

In January of this year his arthritis was grieving him so terribly. I contacted my vet and told her we had to do something for him. She gave him a high dose of Rimadyl. She also did NOT take any blood work or warn me about any reactions. I started him on it but he would start panting and acted sick. I soon stopped since the reactions happened after taking it. But the damage was done. For weeks he was having trouble walking, urinating and eating. He lost an enormous amount of weight. He was a bit over weight in his later years...being a mastiff can do that to you. But he dropped it with alarming speed. We had him into the vet's office three times a week for a month. Always no one seemed to know what the problem was. It was only after Gar went on line and searched his meds that we found his symptoms matched adverse Rimadyl reactions. Except for the fever---he ran a fever the entire time.

After a few weeks he could no longer get up the stairs of the four-bedroom house we bought FOR the dogs. That meant that he was stuck upstairs when the main living quarters of the house are downstairs. He was having trouble breathing and he was exhausted. I am having the hardest time writing this---the tears just won't stop. Eventually it got to where he was incontinent. That destroyed my friend. He thought he was being bad, even though my husband and I reassured him constantly that he was a good man. It broke his heart to be a mess or a problem. Even though in my eyes, he was never either. You could see it in his. This dog that could ALMOST speak, this gentle soul that could communicate worlds of emotion with a look was ashamed. And it was killing him.

The day I released my friend he told me...he tried.
He really tried, and I released him from the promise that I made him make so many years earlier.
I made him promise that I would never have to live without him, that he would wait to go until I died, because I couldn't face life without that part of my soul...

It's still difficult...
I still miss and grieve my boy with every part and parcel of my soul.
I will have to live with the fact that I killed my friend by opening his mouth and putting that poison in his mouth---
by telling him it was going to make him feel better..
.I don't know how... but I have to live with it.
I lost my heart and soul on February 26, 2004 at 12:36 PM.
His birthday was the next day.
He would have been 12 years old

Laura