Yesterday morning, our German Wire Haired Pointer died in the arms of my husband and I. We rescued Hank about 8 years ago from a no-kill animal shelter. Hank was a mischievous dog- he was spoiled rotten but he loved his people (my family). My younger son and my husband are having a very hard time coping. My husband wrote this letter about Hank, and I thought maybe some of the dog owners here would appreciate it's sentimentality.
AN OPEN LETTER:
My big boy Hank died today.
He had been sick for a while, but neither he nor I was ready to admit it. See, he was too proud to let me know because he would never want to let me down….. Me, because I loved him too much to let him go.
This morning we went out for our usual walk. It was around 5:45 I suppose (time to go out on Hank’s clock). With Hannah (Our Wheaton Terrier) in tow, all was well. The three of us liked this time of day, its cool, quiet, and the
air first thing in the morning is fresher. “Two numbers/two dogs”, was he report given when both dogs went No.1 and No. 2 in the grass. Heading back home, Hank lingered back, perhaps to take in one more minute outdoors, but in reality because he was much slower now. We got to the stairs, Hannah
scampered up pulling me by her leash. Hank got about halfway up, stumbled and fell. I tried to coax him up, it had always worked before, but today he couldn’t make it back to his feet. He laid on the steps, ashamed and asking for my help with his eyes, at the same time.
Hank was a beautiful German Wirehaired Pointer, pure black head, white Blaze on his snout, big for his breed, with all the right features. His eyesight was uncanny, his hearing superb, with a chest like barrel, and the strength of a dog his size plus one. He was born to be outdoors, and loved the field, his only real flaw, he loved people more. He had a way of looking into your eyes
and would never break his stare……his way of sharing our thoughts, I believe. Hank understood more than most gave him credit for. He was tough, but sensitive, bold and polite, playful and cuddly too.
He took on my mood, but mostly cheered me up. Hank knew a bad mood could be fixed with some quality time, outside.
Hank wasn’t perfect, but his intentions were good, he just wanted to be around his people whenever he could. He was always my dog, from the day we brought him home. He was always my dog, at 4:45 in the morning when we wanted to go outside. He was afraid of thunder, but not much else. He teased my beautiful wife the most, because he always knew she ran the roost. She would scold him, he would smile, because he knew she would forgive him in a while.
Lately though, Hank had been sleeping a lot. At 13, I guess that’s what dogs do the most. He had stopped eating about a week ago, and when he could no longer make it up the steps, these were the telltale signs of what we had to do. So, today my wife and I put ole Hank to rest.
Dog owners say that you’ll have one dog that stands out from the rest. Hank will always be that dog for me……..the one I loved best.
To my good dog, Hank, you are a good boy.
I will love you and miss you, always.
Signed, - the proud owner of one German Wirehaired Pointer named, Hank “the Tank”.
Put My Dog to Sleep Yesterday :(
