Hawthorne the gentle giant
This is dedicated to all of you who have lost a pet…
I will never forget my second date with my wife, Chris. I don’t remember because it was so romantic or because we went to a great restaurant and had a great time. I remember him for Hawthorne. Hawthorne was a large yellow lab (100+ pounds) with a personality to match his size. When I got to Chris’s house in my car, she was finishing taking him for a walk. Just as I stopped and started waving, another off-leash dog ran right in front of my car. Instinct took over and Hawthorne was off, right behind that dog! The only problem was that Chris was still holding the leash. He had no chance of stopping Hawthorne from running after that dog.
Down he went. Since this was only our second date, Chris tried to do everything he could to fall as gracefully as possible. But there wasn’t much she could do, and grace wasn’t in the equation. There she was; lying on the grass. I must say, once I realized that she looked like she wasn’t hurt, it was fun to watch. She got up; she shook herself and finally got hold of Hawthorne. As she would come to learn, Hawthorne was not chasing this other dog out of malice. He was just having fun. But in the process, as we would learn later, he pulled Chris down so hard that she ended up tearing her rotator cuff, which later required surgery.
When Chris and I met, Hawthorne was already 6 1/2 years old. Fortunately for me, I missed “the formative years.” These were the years when Hawthorne was difficult to manage. Chris told me lots of stories about how Hawthorne ate a water heater, wallpaper, and all kinds of pranks. When I came into his life, he was a calm, sweet and loving dog; despite our second date. While Chris and I kept dating and eventually got married, she moved into my house with Hawthorne. She had always wanted a big dog like him. He had a fenced in front and back yard so he could go out and just hang out there.
During the almost 5 years that Hawthorne was in my life, he would become my best friend, a truly loyal and trusted companion. He and Chris made up my family. We also developed routines that became part of my daily life. Every morning I woke up; he would meet me at the bottom of our steps waiting to leave. He’d be standing there doing his “I gotta go out and pee” dance. He would open the door and grab the newspaper that would be resting on the front lawn; while at the same time he would run out the front door to go to the bathroom. He followed the exact same path to the front door every morning.
In doing so, he actually cleared a path between two bushes. Then it was time to eat; Hawthorne was always first. He would gobble up his food in a matter of moments; always the same way, as if he were starving. Every time Chris or I were “really” hungry; we were “Hawthorne Hungry”. He ate twice a day. (That’s not including the copious amounts of candy or cookies he received from us, well, mostly me, throughout the day.) Dinner used to be when we got home. However, if we were home with him, like on weekends, usually between 3 and 3:30 pm, I’d tell you he had “Hawthorne Hungry.” He was ready to be fed. When he came home after being away from home, there he was at the door to greet me. Whenever we watched TV on the sofa downstairs or ate dinner, he was always sitting at our feet within arm’s reach.
As Hawthorne grew older and we knew his time with us would come to an end sooner rather than later, as an added treat for him, Chris and I decided to put him in bed with us at night before we went to sleep. Many nights Chris and I would watch TV upstairs as we lay in our bed with Hawthorne right between us. If it was a Friday or Saturday night, Chris and I used to joke that when we were younger, we’d be somewhere having fun. However, this was our quiet family time. To tell you the truth, there was nothing better than that time with my family, Chris and Hawthorne.
My father-in-law best described Hawthorne as a “gentle giant.” Weighing over 100 pounds, he looked intimidating; until you met him. During the time he was in my life, I never heard him growl. In fact, Chris told me that the only time he remembered him growling was when he was at a dog park and another dog, how do I put it?, he tried to “ride” him. Can’t say I blame him for that. He loved sitting out on the front patio on cool days. Usually he sat in one place. It was “his place of him” of him. He sat there so often that he wore a brown patch in the front yard. I used to stand by my window at home and watch him just enjoying his time on the front lawn. He brought a smile to my face as he inevitably rolled onto his back and writhed on top of her. Our mailbox is right by the front gate inside the front fence.
So I used to wonder if our mailman ever saw Hawthorne in the front yard and decided not to deliver our mail until he came inside. One day I got my answer. Hawthorne was in the front yard and the mailman came through the door and delivered the mail. I went out and let him know that Hawthorne was not aggressive; he had nothing to worry about. The postman looked at me and told me that he knew very well. Hawthorne, he said, was his friend. He often saw random neighbors and small children who would come up to the fence and pet him. Hawthorne would walk to the fence and stand there wagging his tail slowly and letting himself be petted. That was truly Hawthorne’s favorite pastime. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dog that loved to be petted as much as he does. When we would be sitting on the sofa; sitting at the dinner table; or lying in bed; It didn’t matter, he wanted someone to caress him. And like all dogs, once you started petting him, you couldn’t stop. If you did, I’d push you until you started over. When he was at the dog park, he wasn’t as interested in interacting with the other pets as he was in waving to other people for a pet.
Because he loved being petted or touched by people, he loved going to the vet everywhere. Most of the animals I’ve had in the past were really anxious and nervous when it came time to go to the vet. All the pets seem to have a feeling that they were going there. Hawthorne also seemed to know when he was going to the vet, but he loved it. He would get out of the car and head straight for the front door of the vet’s office, walking in like he owned the place. He often stood on his hind legs and greeted the receptionist in the office. He was like Norm from Cheers. Everyone at the Florida Veterinary Clinic in St. Petersburg knew his name. He would be received and caressed by everyone present. And when he was examined, he was in the glory of it. The more the vet techs and Dr. Anthony touched him, and no matter what they were doing to him, the more he enjoyed it.
Of course, the flip side of not being around during “the formative years” was that my time with Hawthorne would inevitably end much sooner than I would have liked. As Hawthorne began to approach 10 years old, Chris reminded me that he wouldn’t last much longer. He usually told her that he didn’t want to talk about it. He would rather just enjoy the time we had left. Frankly, at the time, Hawthorne seemed fine. The end seemed so far away. Hawthorne loved getting a cookie after going to the bathroom outside. He would run into the house and go straight to the jar on the counter and politely wait for me to give it to him. Usually she’d throw it up into the air and he’d catch it as his jaws snapped shut. Then about a year ago we noticed that he was going to the bathroom a lot more than usual. At first we thought it was his way of getting extra treats from him. Then we realized that he was also drinking a lot more than usual. So we took him to see Dr. Anthony. After analyzing his blood, it was determined that he had kidney disease that would progressively worsen and eventually be fatal. Then we knew that his days were numbered. However, after the initial shock of the news and giving him the medicine, he seemed fine.
Dr. Anthony told us that, at some point, he would rapidly deteriorate. During the latter part of last year, Dr. Anthony’s words sadly came true. Hawthorne started having accidents inside the house. Over time, the frequency of his accidents increased dramatically. In the end, when we were home with him, he went to the bathroom every fifteen minutes. Chris and I knew it was time to put him down. This decision was not made lightly; It wasn’t easy to do either. We fight with it. The hardest thing for me personally was the fact that despite what was happening to him physically, he was still Hawthorne. He still had that wonderful personality. He didn’t seem to be in pain, but his quality of life was now the issue. Before making the final decision, I made an appointment with Dr. Anthony. I needed to hear from him that we were doing the right thing. I must say I thought Dr. Anthony would be wrong and he would tell us that it was up to us to make that decision. But to his credit, he didn’t hesitate one bit. He came into the room and told Chris and I that we had done our best and that it was time.
The appointment was on a Friday. Chris and I decided to do it that day so we could have the weekend to deal with losing her and work together the following Monday. Chris cried during the appointment with Dr. Anthony. Je n’ai pas. He told me early on, when it became clear that we were going to have to put Hawthorne down, that she didn’t want to be there in the room. She would understandably be too upset. I always knew she was going to be there with him when he was put down. Chris and I spent the afternoon with him. We said our goodbyes on our way and then I took him to Dr. Anthony. He wasn’t in the office for a minute when I lost him. I was very surprised that I did that. But in that moment I realized how much Hawthorne meant to me and how much I loved him. I also realized how much I was going to miss him. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
It’s been more than a week since he left. She is taking time to adjust to her absence. I used to put my feet up carefully when sitting on the couch because Hawthorne was always lying right below me. I still carefully put my feet on the ground. The other day, I came home and he, when he wasn’t home, I instinctively looked to the front door to see if he was waiting to come in. I feel bad in the morning because I don’t have my routine with him anymore. He used to go to the gym after work, but he usually went home to feed him and let him out first. I caught myself doing that the other day until I realized he wasn’t home to be fed or let out. He is no longer at the door when I get home. I don’t see him outside in the yard anymore. However, his “his place” is still there. He is no longer there to caress us or to sit on the bed with us while we watch television. He no longer follows me around the house or around the yard.
You don’t realize how much of a part your dog is in your life until he’s gone. He had a great presence in his home and now he is much calmer, but not in a good way. I know that as time goes by, the pain and sense of loss that we feel right now will lessen. However, he will always be loved and missed.