Our Gentle Giant

I had just started my junior year of high school and was shopping at the nearby Kroger with my boyfriend when I saw a sign that said "puppies for sale." Of course I had to go over and take a peek at the little guys because who doesn't love a puppy? When I locked eyes with a little brown and black puppy I knew I had to have him. I paid the worker from the local shelter $60 and went on my way. I thought briefly to myself that I should check with my parents but decided against it and when I hopped in the car I seriously thought, "They can't make me get rid of him once I bring him home, can they?"

They totally could have.

But, thank goodness they didn't.

I remember my mom's eyes getting huge as I walked up to the door holding my new bundle of fur. When I told her he was mine she quickly said, "How big is he going to get?" I told her the shelter worker said he wouldn't get any bigger than a miniature collie and she seemed a little relieved. She asked what kind of dog he was and I shrugged. A cross between a boxer and a german shepherd is what was written on his card. I thought she was going to die. My little sister was particularly annoyed I had brought home a dog for myself but I assured her he was a super sweet guy and would be the perfect addition to our family. A sweet, medium sized dog named Eli.

At least the sweet part was right on and he definitely was the perfect addition to our family. So what if he wasn't so medium sized :)

When he started growing I could tell my parents were getting nervous. We had a little lhasa apso named Max who was feisty but tiny at 8lbs and Eli outgrew him in a matter of days. My parents had to fence in our backyard to keep the big guy contained but his home was inside with all of us. He was a gentle giant. Full grown he tipped the scales at 90lbs but let little Max boss him around. He let Max eat first every morning, patiently waiting (and hoping) for the little guy to save him some breakfast. He could have taken Max out with one snap but that wasn't his temperament. He was happy being the big lovable one and he gave great hugs.

We taught him how to shake, roll over and play dead. We would dress him up in big shirts, jerseys, scarves, hats, and he was always willing to be our form of entertainment. He was never grumpy or snappy with us and our escapades. He was just happy to be loved.

He would play outside in the backyard for hours with this big plastic orange ball. Chasing it from one end of the yard to the other. We always said he was playing doggie soccer. A lot of times we would have to make him come inside because we were worried he was going to hurt himself. His nose would be covered in scratches because, like everything else in his life, when he did something he gave it his whole heart. The game was no different.

I laugh thinking back at all the times he stole my Dad's dinner. My Dad is a pretty routine kind of guy and likes to fix his dinner and then change out of his work clothes before he eats. I can't count the number of times Eli would steal something off of his plate when he went to change. Hearing my Dad yell, "ELI!" was a sure bet he had taken something. A hot dog, a bite of steak, a french fry or sometimes he just couldn't help himself and would have to eat the whole plate of food :)

He was so sad when Max died but when I brought a teeny tiny Amos over to meet him for the first time a few weeks later he was his true self, the gentle giant. I think Toby was a little afraid to let our new puppy around the big guy but I assured him it was okay and of course, it was.

He turned 13 this summer and we all knew he was starting to get weak. Shortly after Gracen was born I brought her to my parents to meet the big guy. We weren't sure how much longer he had. His legs were hurting and he was tired.

For the next few months he had good days and bad but until recently his good days outnumbered the bad ones. Last week my mom made a call to the vet to see if there was a new medication they could try since his current ones didn't seem to be helping with his legs anymore. The doctor indicated there was nothing left for us to do and that it was time.

When I heard the news I sobbed into the phone and packed up the girls for a farewell weekend with Eli. We loved on him, fed him ribs on Saturday and steak on Sunday. When my mom asked him if he wanted to go on a walk and he just looked at her we all knew he was hurting. We used to have to spell the "W" word because he would go crazy at the mere thought of one of his favorite activities. Maybe it was his way of showing us he was ready.

Every time I hugged him this weekend I would try and soak up everything about him. I could feel his heart beating and my heart sunk knowing he wouldn't be with us much longer. He had the biggest heart and was so loyal. Even though he was hurting he would muster up the strength to follow us into the playroom to watch the girls and be with my mom. I can remember when Leighton was a baby sleeping in that same playroom and he would break in to check on her in the middle of night (breaking in consisted of head butting the door open, lol). He was always looking out for the ones he loved.

Saying goodbye was heartbreaking. I loaded up the girls in the car and went back to sit with him at the top of the stairs. I kept rubbing his back and telling him how much I loved him and what a good dog he had been and was. How he was so lovable and made us all so happy. How he'd had a great life and that we were going to miss him so much. I was sobbing on his shoulder and he was looking at my with those big, wise, puppy dog eyes and I swear he told me it would all be okay. I finally picked myself up and made that final step toward the door. My heart hurt but I felt peace too. My gentle giant knew he was loved and I am thankful I had the chance to say goodbye.

I miss you big guy but am happy you aren't hurting anymore. I hope you are playing doggie soccer and feasting on an endless amount of cheese and doggie ice cream. I feel you in my heart. You were and always will be my gentle giant.