Fourteen years ago we drove to a house on the wrong side of the tracks and paid 100 dollars for a two year-old dog named Nipper.  He was a lhasa apso mixed with who-knows-what, he was blind in one eye, and he smelled so foul that I had to hold my breath the whole car ride home.  

When my brother and I had pestered my parents for a dog, we had envisioned a sweet, soft puppy, not a smelly, old hound with a silver eyeball and leaky face-juice that dyed his white fur brown.  We tried to change his name and spent two unsuccessful weeks calling him Gus.  He would have none of it; Nipper it was. 

We would dress him in my dad’s briefs and laugh.  We would chase him around the kitchen and cackle as his claws slipped on the laminate and he scampered around the corners.  We loved our smelly, ornery, little dog and he was a happy member of our family, leading a charmed life.

In recent years Nipper has slowed down.  He is blind in both eyes now, he is lethargic, and he has become incontinent.  His end has been drawing near and we all knew that his final day would come sooner rather than later. 

Yesterday when I talked to my family they told me that Nipper had an appointment with the vet today and that it would be his last.  Nipper was going to be put to sleep. 

Even though I don’t share a home with Nipper anymore, and I always made fun of his stench and how he only had one tooth left (hence the nickname, White Fang) the news of his impending passing saddened me.  I think I find it hard to know when it’s humane to have your pet put down and when it’s selfish.  When grandma or grandpa goes blind or has to start wearing Depends we don’t give them a lethal injection, so why is it different for a pet?  I don’t know.  Nipper has led a long and rich life with many walks, lots of treats, and much love.  I do think he will be happier in doggy heaven where he won’t be blind anymore and he’ll have a full set of teeth with which to chew pounds of cheese.

Rest in peace, White Fang.