It has been a little over six weeks since Petey died and I still cry when I think about him. He was 9.5 years old and I wish he could have lived forever. Not only was he my first Boxer, he was the first dog that was truly MY dog. My husband and I had other dogs in the past but there is nothing like Petey. He would get so excited when I came home - his little nub of a tail would wiggle as fast as it could. He stopped what he was doing to come find me, it was our game. I miss that so much.
Petey was a large white Boxer and, like all Boxers, a puppy until the day he died. I remember telling my husband that I could have a 100 of him (Petey was about 3 months old at the time) and it meant it. He loved everyone and was very curious about everything in the world. My cat didn't like that too much and Petey learned soon enough what claws could do to him. His only bad trait was counter-surfing....going around the counters sniffing to find food we have left out. One day I called home as my husband was getting in the car to go back to town for another pizza. Petey had sneaked into the kitchen, devoured an entire uncooked pizza, then went back to his bed. The only way my husband knew it was him was because there was red pizza sauce on Petey's white face. Doh!
Petey loved his walks, playing with his ball, and cuddling with me. I was a sucker for him and he knew it. He slept on the floor (on a nice fluffy bed) right next to my side of the bed. Towards the end of his life I would wake up at night just to listen to him breathe. I travel for my job and everytime I left home I worried about him. He was in good hands with my husband but I just wanted to be there.
Petey was diagnosed with ARVC in July 2008 after he collapsed one day. Our vet referred us to a cardiologist and Petey responded well to the medicine for the first year. (I got some strange looks when I would talk about my dog's cardiologist, but it's what Petey needed and I would do anything for him.) In the early stages, you couldn't tell there was anything wrong with him, he played with his ball, went on his walks, and ate everything he could.

It was only in the last two months of his life when his heart really took a turn for the worse.
I've heard others talk about the roller coaster ride at the end of their dog's life and it was the same for Petey. He had really good days and then, suddenly, a bad one. We would think "Is this it? Is it time?" Then he would rebound and wake up the next morning with a wiggle-wiggle and I would think "Nope, not today." My worst fear was having to help him to the rainbow bridge, I didn't want him to suffer but I struggled with the decision. The morning he died, he was happy and wanted to play ball with me. Playing ball, at this stage in his life, consisted of me rolling the ball on the carpet two feet so he could "chase" it. I wasn't thinking that it was The Day. I had just handed him his ball and he was walking away from me - then he looked back, took two breaths and just gently laid down. His heart had given all it could. I knew the instant he went down that he had died.
My husband had left the house 10 minutes before so I called him (hysterical) and told him to come home. I said goodbye to Petey and took Magnus, our other Boxer, on a long walk. While I was gone, my husband took Petey to be cremated as we had planned. It was a horrible day, but I felt some relief because Petey was playing ball until the very end and he decided when it was time. Not a bad way to go if you ask me.
Goodbye my sweet baby. Thank you for all of your wiggle-wiggles, ball chasing and being a funny clown-face boy. Because of you I will never own another breed of dog - I am a Boxer momma for life!