It is with absolute heartbreak that I write to tell you that our dear Oscar passed away this past week. The degenerate myelopathy seemed to be progressing slowly since his diagnosis but really hit hard the past few months, the last month especially. On Thursday night he was helped across the rainbow bridge while Matt and I stroked his soft fur and told him how much we loved him. Our hearts are broken.

Oscar's last day was spent receiving lots of cuddles, enjoying a bowl of peanut butter on the couch, a visit from friends and a steak dinner.

Oh how we miss him. He was such a treasure to our family. The moment I saw him at our first visit I knew he would be my big baby. He was such a gentlemen. Always gentle with the girls, other animals, children, really everyone he encountered. He was especially gentle when he played with his dog brother and cat sister who were very much smaller than him. They are missing him too! While it was easy for Oscar to get around he was my velcro dog. He followed me everywhere, and was very protective over me. If my hubby hugged me too long Oscar would come in and split us up. And just forget about it if I said "stop, no or ouch," Oscar would not have it! That protection went for everyone in our family. He kept a close eye on his little girls too, and while he could, he always slept upstairs with them while they were napping. Oscar was one of our youngest daughter's first words. He loved playing catch with his Kong ball. In those early days he would run and run, and jump to catch his ball in the air. He loved being outside and the cabin seemed to be his favorite place. He would explore the property and just lounge while smelling the fresh air. He wasn't crazy about water though and during our annual beach trips never seemed interested in getting wet. We did get him on a pool float for dogs one year but he didn't want to stay there long. Maybe his size discouraged him from swimming. Oh he was a BIG BOY! If he stood to the side in the kitchen no one could pass by. He took up two seats on the couch and was not shy about pushing anyone out of his spot, which he did to all of us, including my father in law many times. 

I've been going through our photos just to relive memories of him. The everyday stuff stings the most; not seeing him in his spot on the couch, the way he waited patiently for our youngest to finish eating so he could clean the seat of her highchair. The way he never let you forget about his after dinner bone, the sound of him walking around, his loud barks when someone is at the door, hearing him run in his sleep, and having him come right into your face when he wanted something; cuddles, food, to go out...you could not ignore him! Our heat has been out this weekend and I know he would have kept me warm with his snuggles if he was here, as he had done the past two winters. I even miss his slobber that covered my floors, and I still can't muster the strength to mop away the last slobber marks on our front living room floor. Our time with him was short, but our love will last a lifetime. He was the absolute best companion and we are so blessed to have had this time with him. Oscar was perfect in every way.

It is with a heavy heart that I let you know that Ozzy (2006 - 2017)  passed away peacefully over the weekend. Adopted from VGSR in 2007, he was  my first shepherd, my fierce protector, constant companion, and best  friend. Over the almost ten years we were together, we herded sheep,  hiked, swam, camped, and he became a great ambassador for the breed.

He spent his retirement years in Florida and was absolutely one of the  best things that has ever happened to me. My life changed the day I   adopted this big boy. Thank you VGSR.

Best wishes,

Laurel (2/13/17)

With a sad heart, but one filled with love, today I said goodbye to Ozzy and helped him cross over the Rainbow Bridge. Ozzy quickly declined and could no longer walk, even in the house, without assistance. He had lost control of both his back legs. It was time to help him go with grace and dignity.  While our time together was too short, it was wonderful. I was so blessed to have him and grateful that he rescued me too. I couldn't have asked for a better first rescue from Virginia German Shepherd Rescue.  Thank you all for your love, support and just amazing friendship.  Rescuing Ozzy was one of the best things I have ever done.  In time, I will rescue again and go back on the active foster list, but I need some time for now.  In honor of the Oz Man, following are the lessons I learned from Ozzy:

• Old dogs can learn new tricks, if they want to.
• With enough heart and determination, you can do anything you set your mind to.
• Love at first sight does exist.
• Love with all your heart and love big.
• You can love a senior as much as a puppy.
• Speak loudly, speak often.
• Give lots of kisses.
• A twitch of an ear can speak volumes.
• One can be content watching the world go by.
• Travel. Go for long rides and enjoy the scenery.
• Make others smile.
• A simple touch can be calming.
• Snuggle often.

Rest in peace, my precious Ozzy. You are loved. Enjoy running with the big dogs. I will see you again, my love.

Raegan

RIP 2/28/11 - 2/1/20
Sweet Pepper went to a shelter after her owners moved to assisted living. She had been adopted by them from that shelter four years earlier. Pepper came into rescue 1/25/20 and only enjoyed belly rubs and playtime for a short while. She had a cancerous mass between her intestine and colon that could not be resolved. Her last days were filled with love.

In Honor of Phantom

My dear Phantom, I first saw you at an adoption day run by German Shepherd Rescue of Maryland, lying quietly among a pack of GSDs, while a four-year-old boy ran in wild, unrestrained circles around you. I watched as another dog leaned over to sniff your ear. You didn't see the dog come up, but you reacted to the intrusion by jumping to your feet to defend yourself, if necessary. When you turned to meet the intruder, there was a three-year-old girl in your path, and I saw you deliberately slam on your brakes to avoid hitting the little girl. I had gone to the adoption day with the idea of finding a large female GSD, but when I saw your highly intelligent response, I decided right then and there that you were to become my companion. After the appropriate home check by Lea Spickler, and meeting you again at Town & Country in Fairfax with Denise Rogstad, I was approved, and you came home with me.

Sadly, when we got home, it became apparent that you had very severe ear infections in both ears, so off to my vet we went. Your ears hurt so badly that you wouldn't let Dr. Rice do much then to help you. We decided that it would be necessary to sedate you to get the infections cleaned out and apply the necessary medications. While you were out, Dr. Rice x-rayed your hips to check for displaysia, only to find that you had apparently been hit by a car, and that your broken pelvis had never been set to heal correctly. Once your ears had healed, you learned to love having them gently stroked, and often came to me for head and bumper rubs. I've never understood why your original humans let you suffer so much and thought of you as nothing more than a yard ornament.

I once watched you race Miss Mousse down the stairs to the back door for walk time just after adopting you. Miss Mousse was a bit smarter than you were and ran to the carpet to make the sharp turn to the kitchen, while you tried to short-cut her on the parquet and slid right into the edge bead of a doorway, scaring the bejabbers out of me and knocking a big patch of hair off your head. You didn't try that one again.

We went to obedience school together for several seasons, and you easily learned to do those things that I tried to teach you to do, and you made me immensely proud of you when you earned your Canine Good Citizen award the first time you tried for it at the first VGSR reunion many years ago.

As the years went by, you never seemed to get the hang of not relieving yourself in the house, much to my consternation, but it was all due to the nerve damage to your spine and pelvis from the car accident. You just looked so mortified when you had an accident that it broke my heart to think that your first humans had not given you the care that you needed and deserved. As the years have passed, the accidents seemed to increase in frequency due to progressive nerve damage. You never seemed to understand that it happened, and that you had little control over the accidents.

So now, almost ten years and several homes later, you're almost 14 years old, and the time when we must part company arrived this morning. The nerve damage had become so severe that it robbed you of the ability to climb stairs without falling and sometimes becoming stuck in the balusters, necessitating “Dad's Taxi” to help you come upstairs at night, and to come up from the yard to the deck after our brief walks. Coming down 13 stairs used to take you two seconds, yet it became more like two minutes and I saw the discomfort in your face as you struggled to retain your balance. I watch your walking become slower and slower, with frequent stops to rest, even only feet from the house. I heard you keen and sometimes cry when the pain in your hindquarters becomes too much to bear with your usual stoic grace and dignity. I watched you doing an involuntary, crab-like sideways walk because of the weakness in your rear legs, and too often I heard you fall on the smooth flooring. As I gently lifted you, I knew it hurt, and yet I felt compelled to help you get to a more comfortable place on the carpet or your bed. And so, my dear Phantom, it broke my heart to see you fall, rise and fall again this morning, and to know that your spirit left your body as you lay there. I firmly believe that Miss Mousse is there at the Bridge to greet you and help you into the next world to be with her again. Please don't be afraid. Know that you have made a big difference in my life, and have helped Miss Mousse teach me the lessons of unconditional love and patience. Know that as you go, Benny is here to take the lead in your absence. Know also that you will always have a place of honor in my heart, right here beside Miss Mousse. You were my first German Shepherd Dog, but you'll not be my last. You have helped me to open my heart to receive and love more big dogs, for which I will always be grateful. Thank you for the years of love that you gave to me. I pray that I have earned your devotion. Go in peace and with my love, big boy.  

12/13/2010