I had wanted a dog of my own so bad, a female puppy, and I was so excited when I got her. My little Maven Monroe. I could hold her in the nook of my arm, and she would cuddle with me. That lovely little puppy breath, and tiny tongue that would stick out when she would sleep. She rounded out our family, and everything was as it should be. As she got a bit older she became our protector. She always stood between my daughter, and anyone who entered our home. She would look up at us for the okay anytime someone came in before she'd resume her place; gently laying her head down on her bed and closing her eyes. She would bark, and growl in warning if any strangers got too close to our fence. She was a true companion, a perfect example of a guard dog, and one that I was looking forward to having at our side as we got older. As Emery grew up. Whatever may come.
Recently, within the past four months actually, Maven started to change. Not towards us, but towards our other dog Draco. She would snap at him. Small subtle warnings at first. Then it became fights. Usually pulling them apart would break things up, and she'd apologetically nuzzle against his side and lick his ear. I'd see Draco sigh, and all was forgotten. Then it got more intense, and we'd have to take the end of a broom, shove it between their snouts in order for it to stop. We'd separate them in order for them to cool down. Every time this would happen it was always instigated by her. Normally Draco would just submit, and allow himself to be bitten without fighting back. But I guess he got fed up with being hurt so he stopped allowing it. When the second to the last incident occurred I ended up getting a muzzle. I didn't want to, but I felt like I needed to protect my daughter, and our other dogs. I didn't want to re-home, or send her to a shelter so this was the alternative I chose. Part of being a pitbull owner is knowing that sometimes you have to take these measures in order to prevent something bad from happening. And though I feel in my heart that neither of my dogs would ever intentionally hurt Emery, I couldn't deny that there was a possibility that she could get caught between them. So, we muzzled her, and everything worked well for about two weeks. No fights, and she was very submissive. Even towards Draco. So I believed that this was a good sign.
However, this past Sunday was a tipping point for me. Maven attacked, even while muzzled (it came off at some point), and it was bad. It took taking a bat to both of their snouts three times for them to let go. But by that point the damage was done. Blood on our walls, the bathroom, the furniture, and floor. Both of them panting, exhausted, and dripping in blood. And the worst part is that someone could have seriously been hurt. In fact, they came close to it. So, I spoke to a few rescues about surrendering her to someone who had experience with handling a dog that was- dog aggressive. Maybe finding a foster that would be able to take her, provided they had no other animals or children. Unfortunately, we were unsuccessful so I spoke to someone at our vet's office. They told me that based on her actions, how quickly they were progressing, it didn't look good. They believed, that her behavior would get worse. More aggressive, and possibly towards humans. So for the second time I had to make a choice. And though it completely broke me, I decided to have her "put to sleep". I took Monday off, and I bought her favorite treats. I put our other two dogs outside, and I brought her inside. I gave her a warm bath, and I placed blankets on the couch for us to lay on. I gave her treats while she sat with me. Then I brought her up by my side, and we took a nap together. I told her how much I loved her, that she was a good dog, and then we went outside for a little walk. When we came back in we resumed watching TV, and snuggled on the couch until it was time for us to go.
I kept telling myself that I was out of options. My dad met me outside of the vet clinic with the truck, and told me he'd carry her out. She was so swollen, and still had some blood matted on her face as I grabbed her leash. She wagged her tail, tongue hanging out, and strutted into the office like she always did. I signed the paperwork. I spoke with the vet who told me that I was doing the right thing. My child's safety was what was the most important thing. And I told him that was the only reason I was able to walk through those doors. Because I couldn't imagine something bad happening to my little girl. Or anyone else's for that matter. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. So, as they came in with the shot I slumped to the floor, and I held her head in my lap. In between the tears I whispered in her ear: "I love you. You're such a good girl. It's okay...I love you Mae Mae. You're my good girl. I love you." All the while her tail thumped on the floor; first in excitement, and then slowly after a minute...stopped. And that's how I said my goodbye. It hurt, and I cried so hard my body shook as I sat on that floor. I sobbed, and I felt like I had failed her in some way. That I was officially a part of that dumb statistic that anti-pitbull people use in order to claim that this breed is dangerous. FYI: The vet told me that he's seen it in every breed; ours is just larger in size than some of the others. Afterwards we took her out to my parent's land, and my dad buried her. I went home to a house that felt a little empty. Draco hasn't stopped laying by the door since we left on Monday either. But as the day drew to an end I knew in my heart that I did the right thing. I knew that I had tried everything; every alternative in order to avoid having to put her down. They just didn't work.
Now, I know some people don't understand. They're just "animals" some say. And I get that mentality, because they are animals. It's not the same as losing a child, or a family member. I would never compare it to that. But our dogs are treated like members of our family to an extent. They lay on the couch/bed with us, and spend a good amount of time at our side. They take adventures with us, and go for car rides. They're great listeners, and Maven was my snuggle bug. I had also had her since she was eight weeks old, and I was really attached to her. So, I struggled with the decision, and it made me sick to have to go through with it. Having to walk out of that room without her trotting beside me was rough. I still have her collar, and leash sitting in the passengers seat. And even with all of this I don't regret getting her. I don't regret defending this breed either. I still believe they are great dogs, and make some wonderful companions. It's just that sometimes bad shit happens, and unfortunately it happened with us. So, that's why I let her go...
