Last Thursday, my family lost one of our dogs and it truly sent all of us reeling. You see, Zeke wasn’t just any dog; he really was special.
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Technically, he was my parents’ pet as he replaced my sister and I when we went away to college. My mom and dad were stuck with empty nest syndrome and wanted someone to fill the void. We have always been a Boxer family, so they went out and purchased Zeke. Straight off, he was my dad’s baby and we referred to him as “the son my dad never had.” And you know? It wasn’t that much of an exaggeration.
Zeke was the largest Boxer I’ve ever seen (almost 100 lbs.) and had a head that was almost twice the size of my own. We called it his battering ram because he used it to head butt things. If he was hungry, he would use his head to knock on his food bowl, and if he wanted inside, he’d ram it against the door. If you’re thinking that he sounds misbehaved, you’d be right! As a puppy, he even ate his way threw an entire living room set (couch and loveseat!), an irrigation system, and a year’s supply of heart worm meds in a single day. He slobbered more than any creature alive, and his drool would fly threw the air when he shook his head. My parents’ cleaning lady was constantly trying to scrape the hardened saliva off the ceiling, the walls, and the TV screen. He was unruly, boisterous, and a total ass, but we loved him anyway.
You see, Zeke was one of the funniest and most gregarious dogs I’ve ever met. I’ve never seen a dog that loved more or played harder; he enjoyed life to the utmost. When you were sad, he would crawl all 100 lbs. into your lap and take a nap. Sure, it wasn’t necessarily comfortable but the image of such a massive lap dog was priceless. He also did this bizarre Chewbacca noise whenever you rubbed his head the right way, and it always made me laugh. If you’ve ever read the book Marley & Me, then you know Zeke. He was our real-life Marley.
The part that has been the most difficult for us is that his passing was incredibly sudden and unexpected. Zeke had been in and out of the vet for a few months for some spinal issues, but nothing life threatening. However, when my mom called me on Thursday morning and told me that he couldn’t get up, I knew something was wrong.
As we found out, poor Zeke had an undetected tumor in his spleen that erupted Thursday morning. It caused his spleen to rupture, and he was internally bleeding to death. My dad was out of town, so my mom and I had to make the decision to put him down, and it was one of worst things I’ve ever experienced in my life. Yes, I know that he was “just” a dog, but he really was part of our family. We spent 20 minutes in the vet room with Zeke, saying goodbye and recounting all of the memories before we let him go. Walking away from him in that room is a horrible image that I think I’ll have seared into my memory forever. It’s still with me today, and I cry every time I think about it.
RIP, big guy.