Beastie Boy.

We've lost our Heiko.

We've known this day was coming for a while. He came to us two years ago already broken, without his tail, having been dropped by a handler prior to being retired. The drop shattered his hip and the army vets had to take out the head of his femur, and then his tail when it became infected too. He had degenerative joint disease. He suffered from degenerative myelopathy, a disease that was slowly making him lose control of his back legs. He had little muscle in his hindquarters. He had a lot of problems. But I would fight anyone who says they love their dog more than we loved Heiko. And he loved us, especially Chad. Dogs remember people that are important to them, of this I am convinced. It had been over ten years since Chad was his original army K9 handler. Ten years since they had worked together daily, catching bad guys and drugs hidden in cars. A decade since Chad spent the night in the kennel, worried, after Heiko sliced open his paw while on duty. Yet from the moment Chad drove for days straight to Texas to get his "boy" when he received word of Heiko's retirement two years ago, Heiko refused to let anyone separate them again. He cried if Chad left for work or even the room. He got up every morning with Chad. He would walk into the bathroom EVERY day and peek his furry head around the corner, to see Chad showering, just to make sure he was still there. He wouldn't leave his side and was beyond ecstatic when Chad came home from work. Chad was the center of his whole world. So it was entirely appropriate that the last thing he knew was Chad holding his head, telling him it was ok to go and that he loved him more than he had ever loved any dog. It didn't make it any easier for us to know that, as a friend put it, he would have done the same for Chad. The last few months and most especially the last few days have been torture for all of us. He'd struggle to stand. The last few weeks he had become incontinent. He couldn't make it up the stairs anymore and would cry at the bottom if Chad went upstairs for anything. He would try to take a few steps but it always ended in a fall. The last two days his front legs started giving out and we knew it was time.

The worst part about losing a dog in this condition is that he was still all there mentally. He WANTED to be here with us. I can't speak for Chad, but I feel like a traitor for ending his life only because his body betrayed him. I know his quality of life was pretty much crap the day we decided to stop his pain. But it's still the worst decision a pet owner might have to face. I'm not sure I'll be able to put down a dog again if I'm asked. I don't know how we'll go through it with our other three. This is the second time I've been present for euthanasia, and it was worse this time because I watched Chad suffer along with Heiko. I was the only one present for my first dog, Otis. Words don't express the heartache I felt watching the two of them say their final goodbye.

Heiko, I'm so sorry. I love you. You really were the best German Shepherd on the planet. You served your country. You let us love you. You let me sneak you people food and you never told on me. You let me call you silly nicknames like "Beastie" and "Beeko". You even allowed me to put humiliating Halloween costumes on you so we could parade you around while we trick-or-treated.

Please know that you did nothing wrong. We were trying to help you. I hope you forgive us. I don't know how long it will take until we can go a day without crying. How long it will be until I finally wipe off the nose streaks on the cabinets where your dog food bowl used to be.

We will miss you forever.