Editor's Note
Last December, Star Tribune Pet Central ran "Falling Short: Life and Love with an Imperfect Dog" by Jeannine Moga. It was a touching account of Jeannine's journey with her dog Tucker, as together they struggled with Tucker's severe behavioral issues, including separation anxiety, fear aggression, seasonal affective disorder and developmental trauma. In this second installment of a three-part series, Jeannine shares her agonizing decision to release Tucker from his continual torment as she comes to terms with the uneasy reality of euthanasia.
A tough winter
Tucker was remarkably healthy on the outside and increasingly troubled on the inside.
His anxious behavior always became exponentially worse as the days got shorter, and last winter was the longest, most difficult winter of our lives. As the sun ducked out for the season, Tucker's intractable demons came out to play. My home became a battleground marred by canine disintegration: urine-stained carpet, chewed furniture, shredded bedding and annihilated exit routes. My efforts to calm him were futile. I revised his diet, exercise and medication regimes; made frantic calls to my behaviorist; and borrowed a full-spectrum light box in hopes of giving him some healing sunshine, however artificial (alas, he chewed up the cord). I left no stone unturned, and yet I was unable to find anything to soothe the tooth-grinding, pacing machine that had become my dog. While I swore I would never euthanize an animal for a behavioral condition, our lives had become miserable, indeed.
Relief and resignation
As I neared the end of my rope, the sun came out and Tucker's spirit slowly began to return. The dense fog of terror and tranquilizers began to lift. I called my behaviorist with a strange mixture of relief and resignation, saying through tears that I would never again ask Tucker to endure that kind of terror. I wanted him to know joy for a few more glorious months.
What a wondrous summer it was, full of long walks and sun-filled naps and stealing tomatoes from backyard vines. I savored each moment as best I could, fully knowing that the summer would wind its way to an end - bringing with it a reality I did not want to face.