Toby had another one of his incidents, and family was bitten. I was told, “This dog needs to be put down.” Had it not been the weekend, Toby would likely be gone already. While I absolutely do not want to hurt my puppy, I find it difficult to justify working so hard to keep him with me.

Thinking that it might be my last hours with my boy, I wanted to spend every moment with him. I fed him everything good I had in the fridge. We played his favorite game – Tennis Balls. I took him for as many walks as he wanted. Toby made it harder on me by repeatedly telling me, “I love you. I love you.” (Having a talking dog is not always a good thing.). When I took him out to pee, he insisted on bringing his stuffed dragon with us. When he went to his kennel, he took his stuffed tiger with him and made his bed like he did when he was a tiny puppy organizing the polka-dotted blanket his breeder sent home with him. I cried so much, so hard, thinking of all the ways I had failed my boy I’m surprised I didn’t collapse into dust from dehydration.

For some reason my family thought it odd that I would mourn for the loss of my awful puppy. “But he’s terrible; you should get rid of him”. (True.) “Everyone’s afraid of him”. (I know.) “You could always get a new dog.” (It took me two years to find him! How likely is it that another dog would suddenly plop into my lap?).

In the evening, I took Toby to the church grounds. Even though God is everywhere, it is easier to think of Him hanging around there. I just stood with Toby and prayed the only prayer I could think of: “Help my boy. Help my boy. “

Monday morning I called the vet to discuss what happened and what she thought my options might be. I asked what she would do if he were her dog. Knowing tha Toby has a cyst that won’t heal and how pain reactive he is, she suggeted we go ahead and try surgery to excise the cyst. Perhaps removing the pain from his life might allow him to calm down enough to be able to train with him. She said the choice was mine, though, whether I wanted to destroy him or not.

Toby’s surgery is scheduled for Tuesday. I don’t know how I am going to make it through his recovery since he is so pain reactive. The vet recommended a basket muzzle that allows him to eat and drink. I have been looking into them, but I feel overwhelmed by the different choices and how you need to train your dog to wear one. There isn’t time to get Toby used to one before his surgery. If I put one on him, how long could I keep it on him? How long would he allow it to be on before he figured out how to take it off? I am trying to picture Toby with a cone, it is seems equally dangerous. (Well, for me, anyway.).

While I don’t know how this is going to work out, I am trusting that God will provide what we need at each step. For right now, I am grateful for the two additional days I’ve had with my little boy.

I know he’s scary and dangerous, but this is how I see him with my heart.