We put Boomer to sleep on Friday, April 16, 2010. Jenn made me go alone because she couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t either, but I knew what had to be done despite how sad I felt. It was an extremely difficult decision, but the right one. Luckily the boy was OK.

I feel guilty and blame myself. What if I had blocked the door better. What if I wasn’t distracted talking to the sister across the street. I feel terrible for letting the incident happen and even worse for deciding his fate. You see, the Boomer we knew was a gentle giant. A big lover who only wanted to sniff and be patted. He loved us. We saved him from a Mississippi kill shelter, brought him north, showed him snow and let him use several of our couches as a bed just because he liked to lay comfortably. We only had him for a year and a half, but he was a member of our family and made our house a home. He’d welcome us home from work everyday and always watch us leave out the front door. We’d play tug-of-war in the yard and run around for five minutes until he got tired and just layed down to watch Jenn and I play Wiffle ball.

Couch Potato

Boomer and I got off to a rough start but we quickly developed a bond that taught us both love, friendship and respect. He loved car rides, popcorn, having his chin rubbed and just being in the same room with us. He destroyed our house and clothes with constant shedding but it was worth it. I took him to obedience class and he wasn’t horrible but stubborn. The only thing he learned was ‘sit’ and ‘down’ but only for a treat. Ever since class ended, he would just sit–in the yard, kitchen, TV room, anywhere– in hopes of a treat.

Jenn and I only saw the Boomer we knew, which is why it was so disturbing when he snapped. The situation could have been a lot worse. What if it was a different part of the body? What if the boy was smaller? What if it happened when only Jenn was home and she couldn’t pull him off? What if it was one of my nieces? All of these factors played a part in our decision. What I saw was opposite to everything I believed about Boomer. But I cannot blame myself. No matter how hard we try to train dogs, they are still animals with their own minds. Clearly it was an instinct or a reaction and something that was in him since adoption. Maybe I could have stopped him this time, but how long until it could possibly happen again? The risk proved too great.

We could have waited ten days for him in quarantine, but that would just delay the inevitable. We knew his fate and thought it was the right thing to take action quickly for Boomer and for our own mental states. Part of me feels we acted too quickly. What if we waited the ten days? We knew he didn’t have rabbies. Should we have been more selfish? Would the backlash be worth it? I can’t say what would or wouldn’t have happened if we decided to keep him. The negative cloud surrounding him would be hard to escape in our own minds and in our family-centric neighborhood. If we let him live, I don’t think he would have been allowed to be himself. The stigma around him would have been too strong despite his true temperament.

Death is a part of life. Life span of Saint Bernards is typically eight to ten years. We knew he would go sometimes, just never like this. Everything about this is sad and depressing but we made the right and mature choice. We now must move on and remember all of the joy, and happiness and love Boomer brought to our lives. We must remember all of the good rather than the small bad. It will be tough, but we will come to terms with our choice. The Right decisions are sometimes the hardest.

We know you’re on the biggest couch in the sky. We will miss you Boom.

Very briefly I wanted to recount two moments from this past weekend that were really awesome. #1: Jenn and I were sorting through some of my old t-shirts at my parents lake house when we came across a shirt for the band Damone. Now I still don’t understand what Jenn has against this band but she just continues to call them lame and dykey. I think she may just be jealous of my crush on the female singer Noelle but they rock and if Jenn had never seen them play live, she’d probably like them too but the band’s image of dirty garage rockers must have scarred her. Anyways, I wanted to keep the shirt, but because Jenn hates the band she wanted me to throw it out. We playfully argued back and forth until she grabbed the shirt and said she was going to throw it in the lake. Well, next thing I know, I’m chasing her through the house, down the deck and across the beach to stop her from throwing my shirt in the water, laughing and pleading the whole way. And when I couldn’t catch her, she wound up and heaved the shirt into the water. I couldn’t believe it! I was heartbroken yet amused.

So in a state of disbelief, I waded into the water to fetch the sunken tee but it was chilly and I didn’t want to go in past my shins. Jenn came in to mock me and tried to tackle me in the water. I fought her off and reversed her hold, dunking her instead. We laughed and it was genuine fun. And after rolling my wet Damone shirt in the sand and throwing it back in the water a few more times, Jenn let me keep the shirt.

#2: On Sunday the weather was finally hot so Jenn and I were outside doing yardwork. I was watering the vegetable garden and she was weeding. I had the hose out just going about my business when Jenn comes out with four camping tent stakes and a roll plastic water barrior leftover from the kitchen sheet rock project. In less than two minutes we had our very own slip and slide. More of a slip and square but with a running start you could slip for a good ten feet. At first I was skeptical and not very into it. I said I didn’t have my bathing suit and didn’t want to get dirty. But Jenn went first and I felt old. When was the last time I did something spontaneous, reckless and fun? Ever since we bought the house it’s been all work, saving money and conservative weekend fun. So I said fuck it, took off my shirt and went for a ride on the slip and slide. It was like I was 13 again. Jenn and I did a few tandem runs before the plastic ripped and water ran out. The whole thing maybe only lasted for 15 minutes, but it was another fun, tiny moment that’s I’d really like to remember.