Farewell, Harley

Yesterday, we had to make the terrible decision about whether or not to put our little miniature dachshund to sleep because of a bowel obstruction. He had the lovely habit of eating foreign objects – we’d already had one abdominal surgery about three years ago to remove a hickory nut he had swallowed whole. He also likes to swallow rocks – particularly gravel from our driveway. When he started vomiting Wednesday I knew almost immediately he’d gotten into something, again. And that a trip to the vet was in our near future, again. So we took him and they admitted him to the animal hospital overnight for us to weigh our options. After some no-fun discussion, we decided that the best thing for him would be to go ahead and put him to sleep, since he would just keep eating things over and over (even the vet agreed there really wasn’t anything we could do to prevent it…if it wasn’t gravel, it would be the kids toys). Even if he could have survived another surgery, his quality of life could have been compromised, and it would just be a matter of time until we’d have to make the ultimate decision.

I already miss his little paws pitter-pattering around the house. But I honestly think it was the best decision, and also the hardest. We’ve been trying to explain what happened to our son, who is nearly three and hasn’t had to process death up until this point. He keeps asking about Harley and had finally come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t be coming back home. This morning he asked if Harley’s switch was turned off. I think he’s getting it.

So, in honor of our cute little black and tan buddy, here is my list of things I loved (and a few I won’t miss) about our cuddly buddy.

• He had this little white tip on the end of his tail, and adorable little white markings on his back paws. That’s actually how I picked him from the litter.
• He burrowed (like most dachshunds) under the blankets any time I was curled up on the couch.
• He was incredibly gentle with the kids. He did growl at them a couple times (they were deserved) but never snapped, barked or even looked at them mean.
• He would lick his paws incessantly. Seriously.
• Any time somebody came over, we had to take him outside to pee, because he would get so excited to see people he’d pee. This was not my favorite thing about him.
• He didn’t like to go to bed while the dryer was running.
• He only barked if someone was pulling up our driveway. Or if a deer was crossing the yard.
• He was a good dog. A really, really good dog.

I miss you already, little buddy. I hope all dogs really do go to heaven.