Remembering O'Ryan

Linda and I are heartbroken.

We made the difficult decision this morning to put down our beloved Golden Retriever, O’Ryan. He was thirteen years old this month. We rescued him from Broward Animal Control in January 1999.

O’Ryan suffered from nasal cancer over the past four years, but there were several periods of extended remission which caused us to doubt whether he even had cancer, thinking optimistically that perhaps it was just a bad case of seasonal allergies.

Earlier this week, the left side of his face, near his eye, became terribly swollen, a sign that the tumor had finally escaped the confines of his sinuses and that the disease process was accelerating. I took him to the veterinarian on Tuesday and, because he appeared to be in no significant pain, was eating well, and in good spirits, she suggested another course of antibiotics (for any secondary infection) and an anti-inflammatory. She told me that he would let me know when “it was time.”

These meds seemed to work pretty well for the past few days and the swelling reduced. Last night he enjoyed being outside with us and the Fishers, our next door neighbors.

This morning, when I got up, the swelling had returned, worse than before. His left eye was completely closed. The deformity caused by the tumor was more pronounced. I took him outside, but he seemed to have no interest in exploring the usual territory. He came right back inside with me.

At about 10:00, he suffered a terrible seizure, the worst part of which lasted for two or three minutes. He remained unconscious for another five or six minutes, completely unresponsive to me. His breathing was labored and ragged. When he finally came around, he appeared very confused by what happened, almost like he didn’t know where he was. He had difficulty walking and his hearing and eyesight seemed affected as well.

Linda met me at the vet’s office and we spent a few final, private moments with him before the doctor came back in. We stayed with him, of course, through the end. He slipped gently away.

O’Ryan was a huge part of our family and this house. He loved being around people and especially liked when we had visitors. He was extraordinarily obedient and well-trained, a great example of his breed - the best dog we ever had.

Linda and I will cherish the favorite memories we each have of him. I liked the way he would stand near us, barking at us, every time we embraced, as if to say, “Hey, how about some love for me, too?” Linda recalled times when he lay on the tile near the couches, faced away from us, apparently asleep. At the mention of “dog” or “O’Ryan,” his tail would begin thumping the floor firmly, acknowledging that he knew we were talking about him. There are so many more.

I will miss most the honest, gentle soul of my friend and companion, who asked for so little and gave us so much.

O'Ryan
 July 2010