About a month ago he had a seizure one night. My husband and I were watching tv, our daughter was in bed (luckily). It was frightening and horrible to watch. He frothed and shuddered for about 5 minutes. I took him to the vet the next day and they offered me some drugs for him. I went home and did my research. The side effects and longterm impact of the drugs was horrible. We decided to see how he went. 

We spoke to lots of people, some who said the drugs were ok, others who said their dog only ever had one seizure. I guess it was wishful thinking on my part. The seizures began to happen more often. Many times they were not as dramatic, just minor malfunctions I guess.

But my dogs personality changed. He seemed depressed and confused. His eyesight and hearing seemed to be effected. His breed is quite savage (bull terrier/blue heeler). I bought him as a guard dog because I felt I needed a guard dog, with my husband working away up to 6 weeks at a time. He was my protector and companion. But with the onset of the seizures he became quite reactionary. Snarling and growling at inappropriate times. We feared he'd attack.

Monday night last week he had 3 siezures in a row - with no real recovery between them. He staggered and stumbled around, he kept banging into the door trying to get into the house - when we opened the door he still couldn't figure it out. He was in a bad way. He seemed brain damaged.

Over the next day my husband and I talked it over and decided we needed to euthanse him. My close friend down the road grew up on a cattle station and had told me many stories about how she had needed to shoot her own pets and wildlife - horses, dogs, roos etc; how she felt an injured, maimed or suffering animal deserved peace. 

I asked her to shoot my poor dog. To make sure he didn't suffer. To be quick and sure. I knew she could be trusted. We only have a vet here once a week and I have seen many animals die by injection. It is frightening and can be long and painful. I did not want that kind of an ending for Stitch. 

My husband agreed to accompany my friend on the Friday - the dog would not have gone with her alone. I was leaving town that day for the next 3 days and our daughter would be at school. 

She shot my dog point blank and then my husband bought his body home for burial. He dug a hole in our back yard and wrapped the body in a special quilt I had. We told our daughter the dog had a terrible seizure and had banged his head and died. She patted his body but understood she could not pat his head.

It's been a week today and tomorrow we will plant an orange tree over his body to mark his grave. I miss him terribly - it is so quiet in the yard without him. Mornings and evenings are worst.

I feel lucky to have known him. His photo is on my home page.