Blessings, Bliss, and Bailey: All Dogs Go To Heaven

I can't stop crying. Every time I look outside I cry. Every time I walk into the garage and see his empty bed I cry. Every time I look at Monk I cry.

Our family lost one of our members yesterday. Our Cane Corso - South - passed away suddenly yesterday afternoon.
Everything was fine all day - Christian even came home for lunch and South was chipper and playing. Around 4pm the dogs were barking and I went to the door to meet the UPS guy - he commented at how big the dogs were... I came in, began opening my box when I couldn't help but hear Monk, our Rottweiler crying and barking - real staccato... I looked out the back door and couldn't see either of the dogs - I then walked out into the garage and opened the door where there dog door was.
That was when I saw it - the image forever burned into my brain. Monk, standing over South, licking his face, and South - laying there - dead.

We can only assume that he had a massive heart attack. To think, that 5 minutes earlier he was barking, and protecting. He was so good for that.

I fell to the ground, screaming, crying, laying on him - his body was still warm. I panicked, called Christian frantically and he rushed home from work. I waited for him to come home - I just laid there - in the mud, in the rain, crying, holding South. Monk was laying on me, and we were all mourning.

Monk and South were my first babies. I had never had a dog growing up. A month after Christian and I got married, we bought Monk - a full bred Yugoslavian Rottweiler. A month after that while living in DC - we were walking by the White House and saw these beautiful dogs guarding out front. We later found out that they were Cane Corso's or commonly referred to as Italian Mastiffs. Their cousins are the infamous Presa Canarios which are Spanish. They tend to have bad reputations. But Italian Mastiffs are gentle giants. Very protective, very loyal. We found a breeder, paid a fortune, and got Monk a brother.

When we first met South - he was so dirty. He had been rolling around in the dirt and that is where we got his name - Dirty South, which we shortened to South.

Christian and I always had this understanding that Monk was his dog and South was mine. Monk was always so wild and energetic - I always said that Rottweilers are nothing more than glorified retrievers. He loves a ball and to run. South was different. Very little ball drive, just a loyal, protective companion.

When we brought South home, he started showing signs that he was very ill. The next day I had to carry him 5 blocks to a vet in DC because he was completely limp. I cried the entire way there, people staring at me. I ran in - they took one look and rushed him back. He had Parvo. Most dogs die from that, but they were able to hook him up to life support and save him. That was his first life.

A year later, we moved to Atlanta and were having a stressful time finding a house and living in a hotel with the dogs. While in the car one day, South began whimpering, he then collapsed, released himself all over the car and was unresponsive. Christian threw the car in a u-turn, drove on the wrong side of the road and we carried him into the vet screaming. They determined he had bloat - but they saved him. That was his second life.

Last year, before our move to Iowa, we were out back playing with the dogs and South was pretty out of breath. It was hot, and he was panting like crazy. He walked on the porch, laid in his bed and began foaming at the mouth. I was screaming - Christian! Christian came running in - by that time, South's eyes were as wide as could be, his body tense, he was yelping and crying but not responding. I was screaming too... We got him in the car - all 150 pounds of him - and rushed to the vet. He had had a seizure. He came out, and has been fine since. That was his third life.

The vet told me that South was geriatric. I refused to believe that. He was only 7! But he quickly let me know that he was getting old. That was hard for Christian and I to grasp. He still acted like a puppy - but had the body of an old man.

Yesterday - he lost. That was his fourth and final life.
South was born April 5, 2005 and died January 29, 2013

I have no doubt that South is in doggie heaven. Dogs have such pure souls. They aren't evil - they don't share the sin that we all have. They just love - unconditionally.

The hardest part now is taking care of Monk. He knew something was wrong yesterday - and he knows today. He knows that his only friend and at times, his only enemy is gone. He keeps walking outside, looking around, and coming back in. Him and South have been lifetime companions. We only had Monk for one month when we got South. They are both males, not neutered, and always got along. They were a pack. They protected us.

I shared the news with my closest friends and family last night and the responses have been beautiful. The things that people remember about South are so amazing.
One of my neighbors remarked that she always saw South as being so "noble"
Another will always remember his slobbery face, throwing spit everywhere...
Others remark that he was such a big baby yet such a trouble maker...
Many tell me that he was so remarkably well behaved - and he was.

Our memories of South are endless. He was such a unique thing - he was the biggest dog anyone had ever seen, but such a baby. He was afraid of everything, except an intruder. He never looked like he was smiling because his gums were so big - but we always knew he was ;) Every time I took him for a walk, people stopped me. Everyone thought he was so exotic and wanted to know more about him. He was a celebrity. He had dozens of nicknames - Mr. Brown, Brown Eyes, Mister, and Baby Brown to name a few :)

We miss him so much - Last night, we had a company come get him to have him cremated. They picked him up in a beautiful white Cadillac - It took all of us to put his 160 pound body in that truck... We hugged him and kissed him and as he rode away - we all cried.

He is gone.

We love him.

We miss him.