Our friends Brian and Cara sadly had to put their dog, Shasta, to sleep today. Shasta was a dog with a big heart and an even bigger tail wag. Kelly & I had often dog sat Shasta and he took full advantage of sleeping on our coach, bed and any other soft surface in the house. We loved having Shasta over our house as did Bronco & Izzy. Shasta was Bronco's first dog friend and if wasn't for those 2 dogs we would never have met Brian and Cara.
One of our friends coined the name, "Shasta-tha-masta-of-disasta" after he tore the shit out of her house trying to eat her cats. It couldn't have been any more fitting of a name. Cara and I just called him "the man", cause that was what he was. He took on a leadership role in the house, especially while I was gone on trips. All the things he wasn't allowed to do when I was home, were fair game as soon as I stepped out the door. Couch, bed, extra treats, trying to eat the neighbors cat, all good. He was Cara's protector and best friend when I was gone and second in command when I was around.
Cara and I rescued "the man" 7 years ago from a kill shelter in West Chester, PA. We had looked high and low through many shelters, not finding a dog that was "quite right". One day going through this shelter, there was one dog, not barking, sitting at attention at the gate staring at us. Perhaps he knew his time was running out and he had to put on a good show. This guy, unabashed by any means, let his one ear droop and stared at Cara as we walked through the kennel. She was sold. I made her wait. As if it wasn't hard enough on Cara, she had to beg the landlady, beg me, then I am going to make her wait for this dog? So we sat on it for a night and I was sent the next morning to go adopt him. Cara was working, so I made the run solo, filled out the paperwork and threw this lucky guy in the back of my mustang on a blanket. We made it about 5 miles down route 1 before he puked in the back seat. So started the life of Shasta.
His name when we adopted him was "mister" which is just plain silly, he needed a name that had significance, something large. Cara picked him, I named him "Shasta". This was well before our engagement in our silly row home in Wilmington, DE.
Recently, Shasta has taken a few turns for the worse, I'll spare you the crappy details, but he had a skin disorder that caused him to itch and scratch himself to pieces. We have been trying to control it for 2 years now with combinations of drugs. He stopped walking 2 weeks ago, after the this disease moved to the pads of his paws. After putting him on steroids, he improved rapidly, then as soon as the steroids were over, he flared up pretty bad again. He basically stopped walking yesterday. Unfortunately he was no longer himself, he was not living the life that Shasta lives, chasing squirrels, wrestling Onyx and eating every single crumb in the house.
We made the decision to end his pain and suffering and have him put down this morning. There were few options left that gave him any chance without completely sacrificing his quality of life. With the heaviest of heart and eyes full of tears we held him tight as the vet compassionately helped him find some peace. Not to make it any worse, but we had to explain to Corben that Shasta was going away. This morning we sat on the front lawn with the man, Corben gave him a hug and a kiss and in some unknowing way, said "Shasta going away?" I replied "yes" then he pointed to the sky and said "up there?"
"yes, up there"
Long live "the man"
-Brian and Cara