We were ushered into a exam room where we waited, then the door opened and this skinny 18 month old Rottie bounded into the room with energy and excitement. This kids started hugging all over him and we played with him for awhile. The Vet came in and talked to us about the treatment this puppy had been going through, how they had gotten him and then proceeded to interview us to see if we were the "right" family to take him home. Originally they told us that we would have to come back for him after meeting him, if we were chosen, but I told them that we were drove several hours and if they decided we were a good fit, we would like to bring him home that day.
The kids were so excited, it had been 14 months since we had lost Nala and we all missed having a dog around. Surprisingly, it was probably me most of all that missed the sounds of nails clinking on hard floors, tags ringing on the side of the water bowl as water was slurped up, watching the interaction of my children with a big lovable beast, and the feeling of protection.
After many questions for us, and us for them, the vet decided that we could take Romeo home. I think a huge part of the decision was that he knew our vet and was able to verify that we did take good care of our dogs and that we really did know the breed and how to train them.
We walked Romeo out of the vets office and into a new and exciting life. We put him in the back of our van for the ride home, but not too long into our drive, he decided that if he was going to be part of our family that he was going to ride up with all of us. He jumped over the back bench by the window and made his way to each one of us while the kids laughed from all their carseats. From that day forward he rode with us as a family. Even to the point of laying across my lap in our truck on our way to camping adventures. He was an amazing travel buddy.
Those first weeks were a big adjustment for all of us, we had to learn Romeo's personality and he had to learn ours. We learned that he didn't like men with hats covering their faces. We learned that he loved to lay under the dinner table as we ate our meals as a family. We learned that he was fiercely loyal to the kids and that he didn't like voices yelling, even in fun. We learned that he wasn't scared of tight places, that he could crouch down and crawl under pretty much anything, that he loved to jump, but most of all he loved being part of our family.
He became my running partner and we logged many many miles together. His protectiveness shined on two occasions where I was on a trail by our house and two men needed to be reminded that you don't mess with lady running with a Rottweiler.
He became our camping dog. Oh how he loved to camp! He couldn't wait to jump in the truck when he knew we were going to leave. He was an amazing camper. Never did we had to worry about him barking at other dogs... as a matter of fact, you could always hear where he was when we were walking with him in the parks because other dogs always went nuts, but he just kept prancing on by them, almost like he was laughing that he was getting a walk and they weren't. Children would run up to him and hug on his neck (much to their parents terror), and he would just let them hang there. If there was a child who wanted to pet him, but was scared, he sensed that and would lay down so they wouldn't feel so intimidated by him. We would put him in the trailer once the kids went to bed and he would babysit them until we came in from the fire.
He became our children's guardian. He was always on the lookout for dangers, he had a sixth sense about him that just seemed to know who was good and who wasn't. I could watch him watch people at the park when the kids were playing and know who to keep an eye on. He brought me so much comfort! I was the only stay-at-home mom in our neighborhood and I felt so much better knowing he was with me. As the kids grew, and I started leaving them home alone, the assurance I had knowing he was there to protect them was priceless.
There was one morning that we were all in bed sleeping and 7 am rolled around. Every.Single.Day Micah would get up at 7am, come to our room and open the door to let Romeo out. The two would race down the stairs and Micah would feed him. On this particular morning, they went running down the stairs, but Romeo knew something was off. He raced far ahead of Micah and encountered a robber in our dining room. The robber went running out the slider and Romeo chased him to the door and stood there watching him run away. Micah never saw the guy, thankfully, but had Romeo not been there, it would have been Micah that would have encountered him.
Romeo became the favorite of many children. He just had a calm way about him. Kids that used to be scared of dogs suddenly loved him. We could take him anywhere and never worry how he would react with people and other dogs... unless they were men wearing a hat... but we knew to watch out for those men and we learned how to handle those encounters too.
Romeo was only on a leash when camping or taking long walks. Otherwise he had all the freedom he desired. When we moved to our present house, he quickly learned his boundaries and would often ask to go outside and would wander around the five acres until he tired and then would stand at the backdoor and give off little yelps to let us know he was ready to come in.
Romeo also adjusted well to new animals. When we got barn kitties, he became their protector, he would watch over them, and when they would fall over in exhaustion, he would lay down with them between his front paws and stay with them until they woke up. He would stand over my little chicks too, watching them and sniffing at them. He never tried to hurt them. I even think in his own way he protected them. We have a very high count of coyote in our back woods, but we never see tracks indicating they come close to the house or my chickens and I think it's because they smell him and leave our property alone.
He was pretty much the best dog ever.
The X-rays were shown to us and our world started spinning out of control. Romeo had a mass that was pressing against his heart and a possible second mass on his diaphragm. They could do nothing for him but pain meds, and that wouldn't help his breathing at all. We could take him home, but the vet told us we might only have days with him on the meds and it would be a struggle for him. We left him at the office and went to get the kids to say goodbye. By far the hardest day we have had as a family yet. We had to let go of our best friend, release him from his struggle, and say goodbye.
How do you do that? How do you take 8 years of love and wrap it all up into a few short minutes? How do you tell him all that he was to you and your children? How to you thank him for all of the times he protected your family? How do you thank him for all his love and gentleness?
Our house will never be the same. It's quiet, it's lonely, it's lacking a life that once inhabited it. There is a stillness that just feels wrong. My ears keep hearing him walk around, yet he isn't here. I keep waiting for his sigh as he lays down next to our bed at night and it never comes. I can't even think about our first camping trip without him. But what hurts the most is watching my son's heart breaking. Watching him sit a stare and then crumble in tears. Holding him as his body shakes with grief. Listening to him weep because he feels so lost without his best friend. Micah told me yesterday that he thought he would have Romeo for forever. He told me that they grew up together and he never thought he would have to say goodbye. Watching him bow his head to pray knowing that the only prayer he wants answered is to have Romeo back with us. Oh how my heart aches for him... how I wish I could take his pain away.
We had Romeo 16 days shy of 8 years exactly. He was 6 months away from turning 10 years old. He was a one in a million dog. He was part of our family. He will be missed daily and never forgotten.
Romers, Thank You for all the love and care you gave my family. Thank You for 8 years of an amazing adventure. You stole our hearts when you jumped over the bench to ride in the van with us and we will never be the same without you.
Goodbye... for now.
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