We lost a great dog Sunday Morning. Early Sunday morning as Izzy’s condition began worsening and I made the difficult decision to end her suffering. Although I am comforted by the fact that I did everything I possibly could have, losing a dog — especially one so young — is never easy.
To say yesterday was a hard day is an understatement, however I know that this was the only route left to us after exhausting all the medical tests at our disposal and coming up with nothing. On paper, Izzy was a very healthy dog.
Her last night here I did my best to comfort her. We snuggled on the floor together and I held her as much as she would let me. I reassured her, loved her, and comforted her. Early in the morning around 4am Izzy began drinking water, took more medication, and I even got some probiotics in her. She also began hemorrhaging but it seemed we had it under control and she was staying hydrated.
Her eyesight had not returned but the vets and I were hopeful it would. Her loss of vision made her anxious and it was clear she was nervous about her inability to control her hind-end. She had a restless night. I consulted with two different vets throughout the night and early in the morning but they believed there was little we could do without a clear diagnosis.
I called Travis several times, knowing he had scratched from the 2015 Knik 200, but could not get ahold of him. By morning, Izzy’s body started shutting down and I knew that the right course for her would be to free her from her pain. It was a hard decision, more difficult because Travis was gone, but I knew it was the right one.
Izzy was a special dog.
She always peed when she got nervous, which was a lot.She’d throw her butt to the floor and meekly lower her head and shyly wag her tail then look at you, embarrassed. “Oops!” Her body language seemed to say. “I didn’t mean to!”
You couldn’t help but laugh. She enjoyed roaming the dog yard and was eager to please. She enjoyed spending time with both people and dogs.
She was a spunky, happy, dog who was full of spirit. Izzy also had a knack for climbing fences that routinely got her in trouble. She didn’t like being confined which only made it harder to see her so immobile. When she climbed out of the puppy pen, I’d often find her playing with older dogs. She’d taken to a male named Yankee, who is spending the winter with us, and enjoyed hiding under his house and nipping at his tail. More than once, I found them curled up together outside his house.
Izzy was a happy dog. When this started started Saturday morning, I really thought she’d pull through because she was so full of life and energy. She was always wagging her tail and was such a happy dog. Even while sick, when I talked to her and told her she was a good dog, she would always try to wag her tail.
Even though her time here was short, she showed from the beginning she was an incredibly gifted dog and I can say, with 100% confidence, that she would have been an impeccable leader. Her loss will not just be felt today but will also be felt in the future as we continue to watch her siblings grow, mature, and become race dogs adding to our kennel. As we watch them grow and develop we will always think of Izzy. She was, to us, the pup that showed the most promise of her litter mates due to her uncanny intelligence.
We’ll carry you with us, Izzy. You live on in our hearts. The trails we run down will be the trails that you run down. We will carry you with us.
Izzy, may you find open fields to roam and plenty of snow to dance on.
