Most of us who adopt animals do so knowing that we will likely outlive our furry family members. But few of us are truly prepared for the raw emotional heartbreak that accompanies such loss. Such was the case with our dog Willa, rescued from Prescott Animal Control as a four-month-old puppy in April of 2006. From the onset, Willa was a force to be reckoned with. When we first met her at PAC, she lured us with her pensive, caramel-colored eyes and shy demeanor. Once she arrived home with us, however, we found ourselves paying retribution for having kept her waiting for so long in the first place. Chewed shoes and blankets, missing household items, and a surprisingly emotive voice, it wasn't long before Willa was lovingly nicknamed "Monster."
Through the years, Willa was a not just a presence in our lives, but an active participant in our family dynamic. We grew to know her personality as we knew each other's – intimately, with admitted frustration at times, but always with a fierce sense of protection, love and tenderness. As we became involved with United Animal Friends, Willa championed our efforts by tending to foster family members. She took on a surprisingly touching maternal role with a small, abandoned puppy whom we fostered for just a few weeks. Later, she assisted us as we attempted to tame the wild ways of one UAF foster name Louie. It was Willa who ultimately helped convince us that there was really no home as well suited for Louie (now Mowgli) as ours. She had showed him the ropes, after all, and surely didn't deem it fit for another family to reap the benefits of all her hard work.
She stood by our feet when we got married nearly three years ago, christened the doggy-door when we bought our very first house, and spent every Christmas amid a pile of her own presents and treats. Though we can look back on it now and point to the warning signs that were surely evident, her role as a member of our family was simply too integral to ever doubt. And when we told her we loved her for the last time on May 19th, we finally felt the true weight of her impact on our lives.
We get used to the feeling of anticipation at the door, as we struggle to unlock the door and get inside to those furry, wiggling bodies. We get used to commenting to friends and families about the behavioral quirks of our dogs and cats. We get used to assigning them their very own voices and catering to their ever-changing dietary needs. But we never get used to letting them go. There's really no way to prepare ourselves for the gut-wrenching pain of deciding that a member of our family – one who depends on us for everything – no longer has a quality of life that is worthy of her character and spirit. And though those moments inevitably make us question how we can put ourselves through it again, we recognize deep down that the joy of saving a life and making it a satisfying one is more than worth the grief of having to say goodbye. Indeed, when it comes to Willa and to all the rescue animals we adopt knowing we will one day set free a final time, the honor is truly all ours.
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