Saying Goodbye to Rocky

Rocky's Fight with Cancer

I had to say goodbye to Rocky today.

Cancer is an unrelenting adversary, especially when the one suffering cannot even tell you where it hurts. All you can do is watch them suffer and feel powerless to stop it. Rocky's time came too soon, and the reason was just not fair. We noticed that he had a red gash on his back and slight swelling below his right leg. It kept getting bigger so quickly that he couldn't walk properly. He had already lost function in his right eye, and there was no chance of a miracle remission. No amount of surgery, radiation, medicine, or prayer would make it go away.

Putting Rocky down was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. It's very rare that I get upset, so I felt compelled to write about it. Many of you already know that Rocky's always been a fighter. He protected our house from all kinds of intruders, including snakes, rats, monkeys, burglars, and even the BESCOM reading engineer (whom he hated). Our neighbors called him "Karadi," which in Kannada means Bear. He truly was a bear, using the same zeal and fervor he was known for to fight cancer. We went to the vet every day for the last week for a cocktail of antibiotics and drips. Every single day when I got back from work, instead of our daily walks, he knew it was time to visit the vet. He would start wagging his tail, ready to be carried to the car for a trip to the "torture chamber." They stuck him with so many needles and injections, and each time he would whimper and look for me to make sure I was by his side.

Final Moments at Home

The clinic was about a 5-minute car ride from our house. For his de-worming, we used to walk there, but in his current state, he was very weak. Rocky always loved car rides, but this time he didn't care to stick his head out the window and let the wind blow in his face. He wasn't distracted by the other cars, people, or even the folks at the traffic lights (he disliked them too). When we got to the clinic, our vet performed an examination and said that Rocky was in a lot of pain and we had to take a call on putting him down. He said we were putting him through unnecessary pain by bringing him every day in hopes that the cancer would go into remission again. That was when the real emotion of what I had to do began to surface. I was putting down my brother, and something sort of clicked. I would never see him greet me after work and demand to be taken for his daily evening walk. He wouldn't wake me up at 5 in the morning to be let outside to search for a rat that had gotten in the car. I broke down when I saw his face intently looking at me, to find out if we could go back home. He had no idea that we were planning to put him to sleep.

Amrita and I promised ourselves that we would get through it somehow and make sure he didn't go through an iota of pain anymore. We set a date for the procedure. The butcher shop was above the veterinary clinic. So we picked up his favorite treats and decided that we would make him as comfortable as possible before he was gone.

Once we got home, it was time for bed. I carried him upstairs and laid him down on his bed. He was so exhausted from the car ride that he just went to sleep right then and there. Amrita and Liam slept in the other bedroom. I woke up around 4 in the morning to hear him whimpering. I rushed to his side and noticed that his gash was getting worse. He kept licking my hand and placing it below his right leg where it was hurting, thinking I could do something to help him. But what really broke my heart was when he looked at me and laid his head on my lap. I think he knew, maybe the gaze that he had was his way of letting me know that he was hurting and he wanted it to end. He looked at me the entire time and then laid his head on my leg for me to gently pet him. I got his favorite stuffed animal and tried to play with him. There was zero interest; he just let me hold him without any resistance. No wiggling to shake free and run away to play, the energy was gone and only acknowledgment of being there remained. My legs were numb, but I didn't mind; I didn't want to disturb him. I think he must have sensed this and finally got up, limped back into his bed, and licked my hand in gratitude. I cried while I sat the rest of the morning and watched him sleep.

One Last Walk Together

I went back to work the next day but couldn't really concentrate. I ended up looking through all the photos I had taken of him. My Instagram is filled with his pictures; I didn't realize I had so many memories! I kept calling the house, checking with Amrita to make sure he was doing alright. I decided to take a day off on Friday so that I could spend the entire day by his side. On Friday, he was much weaker and definitely seemed to be in a lot of pain. I wanted to take him for a walk one more time, the way we did several times in the evening when I got back from work. This was our daily ritual and I wanted to experience it with him one last time, something happy to hold onto when the time to recall stories and memories of him arose. I got his leash and his tail immediately started to wag very weakly. Since he was limping, he couldn't come down the stairs, so he let me carry him down. When he was in his prime, he would shoot off like a rocket to the gate of our house and keep circling in front of it excitedly, waiting for me to catch up so I could put on the collar and start our walk. This time I had to carry him all the way to the gate. By the time we made it to the ground, he was tired. He didn't have the energy to sniff around or tug at the leash to pull me further. He just sat there and sort of looked around. His one good eye was droopy. When I told him it was time to go back, he got up again and started to walk back. We made it to the road, and from his labored breathing, I knew that he was just doing it for me. Maybe it was his last gift to help ease my pain. Finally, he just sat down again, I could tell he couldn't go any further. I bent over and picked him up, and carried him the rest of the way. It was the only time in the past 12 years of his life I had to carry him back to our house. He rested his head on my shoulder and licked my neck; maybe he wanted to say he was sorry. I kept comforting him, telling him it's okay and we were almost home. I fought to hold back tears, but failed miserably.

Since we had a fantastic day planned for him, I decided to focus on that. We fed him his favorite treats for lunch and took him upstairs to the terrace along with our other dog Rambo to sit and watch the sunset. We put him on his favorite rug, and he sat still for a few last pictures, posing (he's quite a poser). I had this feeling that he knew how important it was for me to capture the last moments I have with him. We took turns, Amrita, Liam, and Rambo. Rocky seemed to be at peace. I kept trying to forget that this time tomorrow he wouldn't be with us. I was hoping that by some miracle everything would get resolved and we wouldn't have to do this. But that night I came to know just how wrong I was. Rocky was in horrible pain; he wasn't able to control himself and ended up defecating blood uncontrollably. His kidneys probably must have failed; I could tell he was scared. I usually punish him if he defecates inside the house. But this time, I told him it was okay, and he had this puzzled look on his face when I was cleaning up his mess. We again stayed up till about 4 in the morning; any doubts of putting him through this ordeal again were out of the question. I knew we had to put him down now.

Saying Goodbye Forever

The next day we got everything ready and drove to the hospital. Rocky was even weaker than before. But he was a tough little guy; the gash on his back was yellowish and infected. As I touched his skin, it was incredibly hot; a fever had already set in. Watching someone say goodbye to a dog is not an easy thing to do. I am so glad that our veterinarian had the same love for animals as I do. He was ready to give us some time to say goodbye, but Rocky and I had already crossed that bridge. I had a feeling that he was now ready to throw in the towel. There was no resisting, no barking or trying to get away. He saw my face the entire time and his eyes never left mine. There was a look of peace. I could easily read it from his gaze, and I know that he was grateful I was with him. I watched as sleep descended upon him and he closed his eyes. I rested my hand on his chest and couldn't feel it rise; I knew he was gone. I kissed his face one last time, said thank you for the years of love he provided, and hugged him.

We gently laid his body into a box that the clinic had provided and drove home. I needed to take him back home so that Rambo would know his brother was gone. Rambo would sit by the gate and cry whenever I took Rocky for his daily walks. I knew he would not be at peace if he didn't know when he went. I opened the box and let Rambo sniff the inside. It looked like he had a very lost and disoriented look as his brother lay lifeless before him. He sniffed his body in the hope of some response, but none would come. I knew he was upset and acknowledged what I wanted him to know. Rambo was sure to miss Rocky just as much as me and Amrita.

We lined the inside of the box with one of his bed sheets and also placed his favorite toy, a stuffed dolphin which he had ever since he was a puppy. He looked so very peaceful and calm. I was adamant that he be cremated. I didn't want to bury him. I wouldn't have been able to sleep if he was laid to rest in a pet cemetery so far away from us. What if something happened to him there? I wanted him close to our house, which he had protected for the past 12 years. We decided to place his ashes in a sapling behind our house. Hopefully, it will grow into a tree someday.

I know he's at peace now. Maybe when my time comes, he'll be waiting at the gate... leash in mouth, ready for a walk.