BRUNO
Feb 22,1990 - July 13, 2004
Bruno the wonder dog came to us at 1 1/2 years of age as a rescue
from a couple that had two Elkhounds and were expecting a baby and had heard that Elkhounds were
not good with children. Bruno had already been named (we still question the wisdom of giving a
dog a name with the word "No" in it) and after being interviewed by the owners we adopted Bruno
and went to pick him up. It was our first - but not our last - experience with an Elkhound's
superhuman ability to shed. He was so nervous on the ride home - trying to climb up to the
front seat with my wife and I - he shed so badly that we could no longer see inside the car and
had to stop and drive the rest of the way home with our heads out the window.
Bruno had been an outdoor dog and unbeknownst to us - had never learned to master stairs, would
not cross a doorway unless carried, was extremely hand shy, and was deathly afraid of vacuum
cleaners and storms. Over the next 13 years as a member of our family he overcame all of those,
except the vacuum part. Although he did have his revenge as we went through 8 different vacuums
during that time and finally settled on a lasting combination of Oreck's, Wetvacs, and a Hoover.
My wife put her foot down immediately on Bruno - "No on the bed, no on the furniture and no food
from the table." On my first trip away I returned early one morning to find my wife cuddled in
bed with our Bruno and he wouldn't let me get near my wife initially - so much for rules. We
lived in a 4 story town house at the time and he had mastered stairs to the point where he would
drop his ball down from the top of the stairs on the fourth floor and bark until you returned it
to him - so much for teaching him to fetch.
In his active years he was a bane to birds, squirrels, cats, and the occasional deer. Even in
his last year when we moved to a five acre property on a river he would terrorize the local foxes
and chase them around the house.
He was always first to the door when I came home. My wife said that when I traveled he would
sleep by the door waiting for me. He loved everyone, as long as they were willing to scratch his
head. He would use his nose to move your hand if you stopped. He also had a funny habit of
rubbing himself all over you if you came out of the shower, or rolling on any towel you had
touched if it hit the floor. We could never figure out if he was trying to find your scent or
put his on you.
Snow - forget about it - you couldn't get him inside. He would throw himself into snow, cover
and roll and use his snout to throw big gobs of snow into the air and catch it with his mouth.
We had Bruno before we had our two boys and he was a joy to them and welcomed them both from the
day we brought them home. He tried all his old tricks on them as they grew. He was famous for
sitting on your feet when you were putting on your shoes because he wanted you to stay home.
Bruno developed a brain tumor 3 years ago. His seizures were so bad that he threw out his back
and for a week had to be hand fed and carried everywhere. He then started expelling blood. My
wife and I had the kids come in and say good by to him. My wife asked me sternly if I could
handle it myself and I bravely told her I could. I loaded our warrior into the car and went to
the vet so he could cross over. The doctor saw what rough shape he was in and agreed with our
decision to end his suffering.
They had initially hoped to control the seizures and align his back over the course of two
weeks. But the blood he was expeling indicated the tumor was in other parts of his body. They
took him out of the room to put the catheter in and brought him back in for a final goodbye.
Just then he started coughing and the doctor asked if he was spewing blood only when he coughed
and I said yes. She then looked at his throat and said that he probably had contracted kennel
cough while he was in for his initial emergency visits and that maybe we should treat the kennel
cough and give him one more week to try and get the seizures under control. She said "Best
guess it was 50/50 and that even with the meds he might only live 1-2 years longer" but that
she had a dog with a tumor who lasted 3 years and had been seizure free.
It was a tough choice - was I doing it for me or the dog - but I picked him up and took him home.
My wife was waiting when I got home and she asked how it had gone and I told her to look in the
back of the truck. She was dumbfounded. She hit me and said "I knew you couldn't do it!". Then
I explained what the doctor thought and pleaded "Let's just give it a week to get his meds
correct." Sure enough his seizures stopped. The Prednisone controlled the tumors growth, the
Potassium Bromide controled the seizures and our warrior hung around past all expectations for
three more quality years.
His end came quickly. All the strength he had used to sustain him and our family for those three
years seemed to run out at once. Over a 48 hour period he went from agile to lame and the long
exposure to the steroids had ballooned him from his fighting weight of 52 pounds to 62. He was
ready and though we weren't, we owed him the same compassion and love that he had blessed our
family with all these years.
In the same room where we had experienced our miracle together three years ago we had our last
goodbye. Our Viking family member could finally stop fighting and chase animals in a better place
. The house seems emptier now that our friend is no longer with us. His bowl and toys are put
away and after a few more vacuumings there will be little physical evidence that we ever owned a
dog. But I can see him on the stairs or next to the bed. He's waiting for me somewhere else
now and I wouldn't trade a single day with him to ease the sadness I feel now. Love ya Brunnie.
Paul and Sheila Maguire
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Edited 16 July 2004