Isn't he beautiful? Since I was a little girl I have dreamed of owning a Great Dane. They are the kings of all dogs. So majestic, strong and gentle. A little over a year and a half ago, when my world had crumbled to pieces and I stood alone I found him. He had lived a terrible life, abuse, neglect and left abandoned in a house when his owners moved away and left town. I found his quirky picture on the Internet and like a five year old all I could do was point and say, "Mine". I had been managing to save quite a bit of money and decided that in an effort to mend us both I would take him in. He came a week after I had applied for him. We were summoned down to Seattle to pick him up and have an interview. As we entered the house and turned the corner I laid eyes on him for the first time. I was frightened by his size but taken by his instant love, as if he knew that we were soul mates. Hours later he hopped in the car and we were off. Our new life had begun. I slept beside him that night, on the living room floor, where he snuggled in close and we both dreamed of how much better our lives would be.
He fit in to our family quite well. We took him to the dog park, long walks by the river; I even snuck him to work once. I was so proud of him. I became my companion, my therapy and my friend. When he started having to see the vet once a week for cancer treatment nothing really changed. I would pack him in the car and we would share McDonalds on the way home. That was our treat.
When the vet came yesterday to put him down, I almost couldn't believe it. He looked perfectly normal except that he didn't have the use of either back leg and had lost control of his bladder and bowels. I sat cross-legged at his head stroking his muzzle while my brother gave his ears one last rub. It was a tearful good-bye and as he put his head in my lap I knew the worst was over for him. He snuggled in close, rubbing his head into my thigh and just like that he was gone.
In her book "Hope Rising", Kim Meeder tells a story of a boy who is brought to her ranch of rescued dreams by is caseworker. The boy had been apprehended because when his father came home drunk, after knocking the child's teeth out, he would make the boy run around the backyard while he emptied his rifle at him. Kim and the boy's caseworker took him to a golden pony that she has just rescued from a life of abuse and neglect. She taught him how to place the bit in the horse's mouth and put the bridle over the horse's ears. While the boy was attempting this the horse turned his head and pressed the child up against its mighty shoulder. Although the child was frightened, Kim said the first thing that came to her mind. Without hesitation she blurted out, "Look, he is giving you a hug!". As the horse continued to press the boy against it's side, the boy leaned right in and hugged him back. They seemed to stay like that for an eternity. Zeke was like that for me. I was a confused kid, my teeth had been knocked out and I was all alone on this earth. I set out to rescue him, but I think that I was the one that got rescued, he just came along for the ride. I learned love, patience and caring in a time when I wasn't able to do any of those things.
In Zeke's last moments with his head in my lap, as I stroked his face and our eyes locked for the last time, he looked grateful and seemed to be giving me a hug letting me know that he is out of pain now and better off.
