And 5 Suddenly Became 4...

I put my dog down this evening. I can’t think of a single thing worse than making the decision to end your pet’s life. And while I thought I would hate myself for it, I feel surprisingly guilt-free.

Lainey came into my life in August of 2001, right on the heels of my mother’s passing. I wanted to bring my Dad home from the nursing home, but dog, Lance, hated my father. Hate might be too strong of a word, but Lance was shy and timid – very much a victim of abuse – and my Dad was loud and made sudden movements. So I figured a buddy for Lance who liked my Dad would be a perfect addition to the family.

Only thing was, Dad didn’t do well at home. He was more incontinent and less able to ambulate than I thought. But I had already made the adoption. Lainey, the scared little Border Collie with a limp, who hid in the back to the cage in sheer terror of the other barking dogs, was now mine.

Lainey adored my father. It could be because she only saw him sporadically. She loved everyone she met. It was after she got to know them that the affection sometimes turned to loathing. On a daily basis, it might have been different with my Dad. I know that soon after becoming Lance’s sister, the bloom soon was off the rose between Lainey and I.

I’ll spare you all the details, but a lot of days dealt with Lainey biting me. Biting Barry. Biting both of us. One moment she would be happy and content, then next she would be snarling and snapping. Seven years of this went on. I hired behaviorists. We went to obedience classes. I took her places. I tried brushing her. I used T-Touch techniques to soothe her. Nothing lasted for long.

We had some fun. No one could look as cute as Lainey did… when she wanted to. Not even Lance, who is cuteness personified. Maybe she was so gosh darn cute when she wanted to be because Barry and I were never used to it. We had some adventures. Going to the park at the end of the street. The Great Forest Park Balloon Race. The Easter car show in the Muny parking lot the day my Dad died. Visiting our friends Paul and Kim (Lainey was going to take Paul away from Kim and go to the Caribbean, where she was going to dump his ass once they hit the beach.) Picking out dog treats at Petsmart.

I don’t know what her life was like before I took her in. One leg, her right hind leg, was shorter than the rest because she had been hit by a car as a puppy. The ball part of her ball and socket joint had been surgically removed, a common practice in dog versus vehicle accidents. She was covered in white paint when I adopted her. She used to get out of the backyard whenever she could, hightailing it for the creek behind the house and making her way up to the park.

I suppose if one wanted to analyze my reasons for adopting Lainey – and Pudge and Gana soon after – it had everything to do with the loss of my family. Yes, Dad was still alive at the time, but he wasn’t the guy that I knew and loved. I needed to fill the hole in my heart. Very much the symptoms of a hoarder, and I was aware even at the time that I had the makings of one. But soon after Lainey showed her true colors, I realized that I would keep making the same mistake over and over again, adopting the wrong pet for the wrong reasons. They had to pick me as much as I picked them. And Lainey certainly never picked me. It was obvious even at the end.

And while I don’t think that I failed her, I do have to question whether I could have done more. I know I did so much more – and put up with so much more – than just about any person should have to. But knowing that I have the best dog I’ll ever meet – Lance – makes me wonder how Lainey ended up so wrong. I tried, God knows I tried. But it feels like it wasn’t enough. Even though I put up with more than any normal person would put up with. God also knows how she would have ended up if someone else had adopted her. Certainly no one else would have put up with her as long as I did. So she had a good run.

So maybe guilt-free is misleading. I feel bad. Horribly bad. But short of letting her continue to bite me – and making me feel sort of like a battered spouse in the process – I know I did the right thing. Even if it sucked worse than I could have imagined. She was healthy – physically at least – so every atom in my body is screaming that this was the wrong thing to do. But my heart feels lighter. As scary as that sounds, I feel somewhat liberated.

There is no doubt that I loved Lainy, my “little girl.” My “pretty girl.” I just didn’t know how much I loved her until now.

Elaine “Lainey” Anne Poynton
February 12, 1999 – September 17, 2008

Rest in Peace my darling dog. Goodness knows you never got it in life.