Risa

The inevitable day we had been dreading finally arrived. Lead in through a side entrance to help ensure our privacy, we were taken to the examination room, a final trip to the vet’s office with our beloved German Shepherd, Risa. As she lay on the cold metal table awaiting her lethal dose of morphine, the time she had spent with us as a member of our family flashed through my mind.

Five years earlier, Donna and I went to make our pick from the litter at a local breeder. As 6 puppies scampered around us, one of them went to Donna and didn’t leave her side. Judging by the smile on her face, I knew that this was the puppy she would choose to call Risa.

It became apparent a few weeks later that there was something seriously wrong with Risa. Unable to hold her food, a trip to the vet revealed that she suffered from a birth defect called “Aortic Arch.” Having already fallen in love with her, we were devastated by the diagnosis. A call to the breeder suggested that we “return the defective dog,” being assured of a full refund or “the pick” of the next litter. Knowing the certainty of Risa’s fate if we chose that cold and heartless option, we again spoke with the vet to see if there was any hope of saving her. As it turned out, there was. A veterinarian from New York City specialized in surgery to correct this usually fatal condition. Even after being forewarned that dogs suffering from this malady are likely to have other serious problems in the future, we decided to undergo the very expensive procedure. All went well, allowing Risa to live a very happy and healthy life for the next 3-1/2 years. Always playful and energetic, her antics had become a constant source of amusement.

The vet performing the euthanasia spoke to us in a calm and understanding manner, concurring with our heart-wrenching decision. The slowly progressive pancreatic failure that began a year and a half earlier had decimated Risa to a mere 46 pounds, despite an aggressive enzyme regimen. Even though her change in temperament was only slight, we knew that it was unfair to prolong her suffering. Even on her last day, there had to be one final toss of the rubber-ring toy in the back yard and the usual bark of complaint when the play had to end.

As we all held her and spoke to her one last time, the barbiturate overdose coursed through her veins. Life’s light gradually fading from her eyes, Risa’s passing was one of peacefulness, dignity and for those of us left behind, great sorrow.