Well I had to have my 7 year old Rottweiler euthanized today. It was very sad and I was with him till his last breath breathed into my hand.

He was a family dog, and loved us all including the little kids, and never bit anybody. Never had to; he was not one to shine up to strangers, however; and many persons received a low and slow growl and "got the message." He was very tolerant of children, was accepting of women, and men outside his family not at all. They steered clear and we never asked him to change.

He loved his mistress most of all, because she trained him in three courses culminating in a round of "schutzhund" training with the excellent trainer of the local police. He was stubborn but responded will to firm, consistent, and loving discipline. He liked nothing more than to be "put through his paces" of obedience commands by my wife with people watching. A close second was retrieving from myself and long hikes with my son; the last of which was no more than two months ago. He often reminded me of the rottie in the children's books named "Karl" with his patient and caring attention to our children.

We traveled a long way to buy him after looking at many pups. Sadly the breed is over-bred due in no small part to negroes who like to fight dogs. Still, with the help of the Chicago area Medallion Rottweiler club, we found a reputable breeder.

Still, he was not perfect. I will never forget the morning I woke up with him next to me on the floor, to see him drooling and flopping about in an epileptic seizure. He had to be medicated thereafter, and took up residency in the garage due to a few accidents he had after seizures. Still, due to his kindly, loyal, and charming personality, we decided to keep him. For nearly five years, he rewarded us with the kind of even temperament and loving behavior that only "man's best friend" can give.

After his recent development of diabetes and some other major organ failures, we tried to medicate him further but to no avail. He ate his last meal friday night, and by last night Sunday he had let us know that he was ready to drop out of our pack.

So after a long cold snowy weekend, we said goodbye and I took him on his last car ride. He could barely stand due to his cracked and bleeding pads, but in the waiting room wagged his stub of a tail when a labrador stopped to get aquainted. He nuzzled my neck as I lifted his shrunken and trembling body onto the exam table and put his muzzle in my hand as the vet shaved his forearm and injected him with a large syringe of clear fluid. In a moment he gave a small flinch and then his eyes seemed to glaze over. Tears rolled from my eyes like water and I didnt know if he was dead yet or not and the vet asked me if I wanted some time with him and I said yes. When they left I hugged my still-warm but dead limp dog and buried my face in his long winter coat. After a minute it seemed like I was done and ready to leave and I did.

Sorry bout your dog, AE. :(

Well I had to have my 7 year old Rottweiler euthanized today. It was very sad and I was with him till his last breath breathed into my hand.

He was a family dog, and loved us all including the little kids, and never bit anybody. Never had to; he was not one to shine up to strangers, however; and many persons received a low and slow growl and "got the message." He was very tolerant of children, was accepting of women, and men outside his family not at all. They steered clear and we never asked him to change.

He loved his mistress most of all, because she trained him in three courses culminating in a round of "schutzhund" training with the excellent trainer of the local police. He was stubborn but responded will to firm, consistent, and loving discipline. He liked nothing more than to be "put through his paces" of obedience commands by my wife with people watching. A close second was retrieving from myself and long hikes with my son; the last of which was no more than two months ago. He often reminded me of the rottie in the children's books named "Karl" with his patient and caring attention to our children.

We traveled a long way to buy him after looking at many pups. Sadly the breed is over-bred due in no small part to negroes who like to fight dogs. Still, with the help of the Chicago area Medallion Rottweiler club, we found a reputable breeder.

Still, he was not perfect. I will never forget the morning I woke up with him next to me on the floor, to see him drooling and flopping about in an epileptic seizure. He had to be medicated thereafter, and took up residency in the garage due to a few accidents he had after seizures. Still, due to his kindly, loyal, and charming personality, we decided to keep him. For nearly five years, he rewarded us with the kind of even temperament and loving behavior that only "man's best friend" can give.

After his recent development of diabetes and some other major organ failures, we tried to medicate him further but to no avail. He ate his last meal friday night, and by last night Sunday he had let us know that he was ready to drop out of our pack.

So after a long cold snowy weekend, we said goodbye and I took him on his last car ride. He could barely stand due to his cracked and bleeding pads, but in the waiting room wagged his stub of a tail when a labrador stopped to get aquainted. He nuzzled my neck as I lifted his shrunken and trembling body onto the exam table and put his muzzle in my hand as the vet shaved his forearm and injected him with a large syringe of clear fluid. In a moment he gave a small flinch and then his eyes seemed to glaze over. Tears rolled from my eyes like water and I didnt know if he was dead yet or not and the vet asked me if I wanted some time with him and I said yes. When they left I hugged my still-warm but dead limp dog and buried my face in his long winter coat. After a minute it seemed like I was done and ready to leave and I did.

Your touching story made my own eyes well up, AE. I've know the same feeling a number of times. My dog Bo has been the best little loyal friend and "chick magnet" a man could ever have for almost 15 years now. He goes with me everywhere I go, practically. He's still quite active, despite his deafness, but I can see him slowing down a bit now. He is only 18 pounds but he has always considered himself the big dog on the block. I'll put him down myself when he lets me know it is time. It won't be easy.

I always preferred Redbone Hound Dogs, myself, because of their unique bark, and because they're a tradition in my mother's side of the family, the Allens, of Wake county, N.C., who loved to go hunting while drinking moonshine whiskey and then howling with the dogs as they chased prey. They swore they could tell whose dog was leading the chase by the barkings, and laughingly argued about it, neither ever admitting that his dog wasn't the one who tree'd the coon. As a boy, I sometimes went hunting with my uncles Ed and Swanee, and their sheer joy of it, rubbed off on me.

Thank you gentlemen, for your kind remarks, and enjoy those companions while you have them.

There's been a lovely red sky sunset tonight and though I grieve over my little friend, I will take this day as good to be alive, good as any other.

(Tears in his eyes)

Well....the dog is immortalized because nothing ever gets lost on the net...It is interesting you don't name the dog. I never gave my cats names, although I loved them all.

Just out of curiousity White Will, how will you send your dog to Walhalla when that time comes, far off in the future?

(Tears in his eyes)

Well....the dog is immortalized because nothing ever gets lost on the net...It is interesting you don't name the dog. I never gave my cats names, although I loved them all.

Just out of curiousity White Will, how will you send your dog to Walhalla when that time comes, far off in the future?

Not to worry, 999. All dogs belonging to Aryan warriors go to Valhalla. And they're turned into Redbone Hound Dogs, just before they get there. Hain't dat right, Will ???

Very sorry about your loss, AE. That story brought tears to my eyes.

Very sorry about your loss, AE. That story brought tears to my eyes.

I'm not much of a "pet person" but that one had me a little choked up also.

I'm sorry to hear of the loss of your animal, AE. As my family has had mostly Danes, I understand the loss at such an apparently, at least to most folks, youthful age.

(Tears in his eyes)

Well....the dog is immortalized because nothing ever gets lost on the net...It is interesting you don't name the dog. I never gave my cats names, although I loved them all.

Just out of curiousity White Will, how will you send your dog to Walhalla when that time comes, far off in the future?

Why, Hell, 999, I thought you were a little girl, judging from your avatar.

Bo will probably just die a natural death, but if I end his life it will be something between he and me -- and there won't be a crucifix marking his final resting place either. Don't worry, he'll not suffer for a second. I don't need to pay a vet $100 to end his life, not when I can send that precious money to Alex or Dr. Bob or someone else to keep our important projects going.

Charities are always begging me for $$$ and my pat reply is that I am only charitable to those who work exclusively for the interest of White people -- MY people.

My avatar is Helga Goebbels. She was the daughter of dr. Goebbels although it was rumoured she was Hitler's daughter. Look at her face and judge for yourself.

I honour her memory with my avatar and as a reminder of what we are fighting for. In 1945 she was put to death to prevent her from being raped and murdered by jewish-led Soviet beasts.

Addendum: She also was Hitler's favorite Goebbels' daughter...makes you wonder. ;)

I would like to think that my dog will be laying by the fire in Valhall for me if I earn my place. I suggested something along those lines to my little boy. A pleasant notion.

But clearly he is gone, and his unique personality has now been dissolved back into the cycle of death and rebirth that seems to be the fundamental nature of all reality.

I woke up this morning from a dream of my dog and other things, hearing the song "Gone with the Breeze." This is some kind of Ian Stuart song, or maybe an Ian Stuart memorial song. Anybody know the song?

That is a song that brings tears to my eyes as well.

Yes, it's an Ian Stuart song. In which he foretells his own death.

I am so sorry, AE. I'll offer you one of my Dobie pups,provided you want one, free of charge as soon as I breed my Eva here in a few months.

I am so sorry, AE. I'll offer you one of my Dobie pups,provided you want one, free of charge as soon as I breed my Eva here in a few months.

thanks so much. I think however that we are going to take a break on dogs. we do like dobermans however, they have much in common with the rott as you know.

thanks so much. I think however that we are going to take a break on dogs. we do like dobermans however, they have much in common with the rott as you know.
I understand. I lost my cat that I had rescued from the dog pound as a starving kitten who had the unfortunate experience of some piece of shit burning off one of his ears to antifreeze poisioning about 7 years ago and I have just now let myself become attached to another cat. Losing a beloved pet is almost as bad as losing a family member, because that's really what they are. If you change your mind let me know, even if it's a year from now, because we are trying to build back up a Dobie kennel in the next few months and I would be honored to give your family a pup.

you are right about the grief. it's odd since they are not people, but the love they give back is so much simpler and so perhaps we miss it more keenly.

I will try to appreciate my human family more for all their complexities and take a simpler approach to our "pack" like my dog did.

Well I had to have my 7 year old Rottweiler euthanized today. It was very sad and I was with him till his last breath breathed into my hand.

He was a family dog, and loved us all including the little kids, and never bit anybody. Never had to; he was not one to shine up to strangers, however; and many persons received a low and slow growl and "got the message." He was very tolerant of children, was accepting of women, and men outside his family not at all. They steered clear and we never asked him to change.

He loved his mistress most of all, because she trained him in three courses culminating in a round of "schutzhund" training with the excellent trainer of the local police. He was stubborn but responded will to firm, consistent, and loving discipline. He liked nothing more than to be "put through his paces" of obedience commands by my wife with people watching. A close second was retrieving from myself and long hikes with my son; the last of which was no more than two months ago. He often reminded me of the rottie in the children's books named "Karl" with his patient and caring attention to our children.

We traveled a long way to buy him after looking at many pups. Sadly the breed is over-bred due in no small part to negroes who like to fight dogs. Still, with the help of the Chicago area Medallion Rottweiler club, we found a reputable breeder.

Still, he was not perfect. I will never forget the morning I woke up with him next to me on the floor, to see him drooling and flopping about in an epileptic seizure. He had to be medicated thereafter, and took up residency in the garage due to a few accidents he had after seizures. Still, due to his kindly, loyal, and charming personality, we decided to keep him. For nearly five years, he rewarded us with the kind of even temperament and loving behavior that only "man's best friend" can give.

After his recent development of diabetes and some other major organ failures, we tried to medicate him further but to no avail. He ate his last meal friday night, and by last night Sunday he had let us know that he was ready to drop out of our pack.

So after a long cold snowy weekend, we said goodbye and I took him on his last car ride. He could barely stand due to his cracked and bleeding pads, but in the waiting room wagged his stub of a tail when a labrador stopped to get aquainted. He nuzzled my neck as I lifted his shrunken and trembling body onto the exam table and put his muzzle in my hand as the vet shaved his forearm and injected him with a large syringe of clear fluid. In a moment he gave a small flinch and then his eyes seemed to glaze over. Tears rolled from my eyes like water and I didnt know if he was dead yet or not and the vet asked me if I wanted some time with him and I said yes. When they left I hugged my still-warm but dead limp dog and buried my face in his long winter coat. After a minute it seemed like I was done and ready to leave and I did.

I was very painful for me to read this post as I have had to go through this exact process seven times in the last ten years with my old dogs when their health finally failed and it was time to help them out. I have a brother and sister pair from the same litter that will need the same decision made for them in the next year probably and I am not looking forward to it and will never get used to it. All my passed dogs are buried in my back yard. I used to leave my pets at the vet for them to dispose of but lately I have been bringing them home to bury. This has been a very hard thing to do. They are all chows and unfortunately this breed rarely lives beyond ten years. Find comfort in the fact that you did the ultimate act of kindness for him when he really needed you and try to move on after some grieving. I find it best to get another puppy! I sometimes see the spirit of a passed canine friend in the behavior of a new addition to the family. Chin up.