Our Lost Dog

Recently we had to put our beloved dog down. He was thirteen. For me to call him a ‘dog’ in a sentence is hard because he has always been known as our baby. Every dog owner knows that their special pooch is special because that is what we do. Our Otis was extremely special. I often joked that he was more human than dog, and I firmly believe that he thought he was.

Otis was born on June the ninth, 2006. When we went to pick out a puppy from the litter, he chose us. He acted as though he had known us forever. The cowlick on his nose only added more beauty to the beautiful furry baby we were adding to our family. On August the eighth, I picked him up by myself and he sat in my lap the entire 40-minute ride home. As soon as his paws hit the driveway, he was off running. It was as though he knew he was at home.

We introduced him to Max, our Maine Coon. It only took a short time before Otis learned that you can look, but not touch, the cat! But they became best buddies with their mutual understanding of space.

The first three days, he had no name as we couldn't decide on one as a family. One day I was driving behind a truck carrying Otis Spunkmeyer cookies and put the name Otis in the mix. Everyone loved the name, even Otis! So he was officially named after a cookie.

It took awhile for Otis to walk on a leash, but we had an old baby seat for a bike, and he fit nicely in there. We would cruise the canal and stop to visit Grammy and Grampy when they were home. As he got bigger, he no longer fit in the baby seat, but now was able to walk nicely on a leash. That started the daily dose of three walks a day at any time of the year. These walks consisted of walking down Main Street, stopping at the park to play ball, then stopping at Grammy’s for extra water and cookies from the endless bag of cookies stuffed by her chair.

When Otis was two we brought home Jake, a 10-week-old lab. It was an adjustment but soon Otis was showing him the ropes. Chad then became known around town as “The man who walks the pretty black labs.”

One time when Chad was visiting his son in Japan, Otis got out from the back yard. I desperately called his name, frantic as to where he was. My phone rang and it was my friend who worked in a store on Main Street telling me that she believed she saw my dog walking down the street by himself. I jumped in my car, but by the time I backed out of the driveway there was Otis, trotting down the sidewalk. We laugh about him taking himself for a walk now, but he gave me quite a scare that day.

Our cat Smokey came into our home when Otis was four. As a kitten he found her annoying, allowing Jake to play with her so he wouldn't have to. Eventually she developed an attachment to him. She was always licking his ears and rubbing up against him. He didn't seem to mind after a while. Because she has a food issue, she is typically fed with the dogs when they eat, so it was a common occurrence to see her sitting in between them waiting for food. She became known as The Cat-Dog!

Otis loved going for walks, chasing the tennis balls at the park, swimming and laying in our laps. Yes, he was a lap dog: All seventy pounds of him would nestle their way into our laps so that he could sleep. Even in bed he always pushed us over so that he had more room.

When Otis got sick three years ago we did everything we could to find out what was wrong, even visiting a neurologist and having an MRI done. He was having trouble walking. Sometimes he couldn’t walk at all and other times he walked sideways. After a few visits it was discovered that he had blown out a disc in his lower back. Surgery was not an option due to his age and the effects that anesthesia had on him.

Our whole routine changed. Walks were kept at a minimum, we tried out numerous doses of pain medicine until we found the right dosage, and we had to keep his weight in check. For three years, we celebrated each day with him, each holiday, each vacation and each birthday. This past July we took both dogs and the cat to Maine for a week long vacation. We have a trailer on the lake, and there is plenty of room for them to relax and for us to enjoy being away from the hustle and bustle of our everyday life.

On July First, Otis got off the couch and slid to the floor. At first we didn’t think anything of it. He sometimes had trouble getting up after laying down too long. But then we noticed he tried to get up but couldn’t, then we noticed that he was peeing on the floor while laying down. We quickly got him outside where we believe he lost his bowels. Through a series of phone calls I was able to obtain his records from our vet and rushed him to the nearby vet office.

We discovered that he had two things going that had nothing to do with each other: an ear infection and loss of mobility. We took him for the night with extra pain medicine and placed him on the dog bed. He never moved, except to twist his body to what I believe was the most comfortable spot for him.

We knew what we had to do. We didn’t want to, but we knew we had to, for Otis. On July Second, we brought him back to the vet and cried for hours. He knew we were sad, but I feel deep in my heart that he was ready. He passed away in our arms. Today his ashes sit on our mantle next to Max, his first four-legged friend. Jake and Smokey miss him terribly, but we keep them occupied. We miss him too.

Thank you for reading my story about Otis!