About five months after losing Tiernan, in the spring of 2012, a Great Dane became available through a rescue centre. He was a senior, found as a stray, and terribly thin. He was such a sweet boy, and he bonded with us quickly. He adored me and would wait by the door every time I left. He was gentle with our three cats, and my dog, Maia, accepted him.
After three weeks, everything changed.
I brought him to our vet to deal with a massive seroma that had developed after his neuter. In an instant, he lunged toward Willow’s face without making a single sound, and when he pulled back, she was bleeding. It was terrifying. There had been no posture, no growl, no raised lip, nothing. My poor, sweet friend needed 50 stitches in her face.
We did a full veterinary workup, including bloodwork, X-rays, and more, but there was nothing physically wrong with him. We also consulted with three trainers. They believed he was carrying deep trauma from his past, and that whatever he had experienced before us had likely taught him not to show any vocal or physical signs of discomfort. It was as though all of his warning signals had been punished out of him.
At the end of the day, the only safe decision was euthanasia. I never could have forgiven myself if he had bitten someone else, especially a child. It was devastating. His previous family had failed him, and he deserved so much more.
In some ways, this goodbye was one of the hardest. I still tear up when I think about him, even now. He loved me so deeply, and in the end, all I could do was let him go with love.
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