"The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

It was 4:00 pm yesterday, Monday the 14th of April. I was sitting there on a cold tile floor holding Max as the sedative started working. The vet had walked out to let the sedative take effect. Tears were running down my face and I was doing my best not to flat-out cry. I didn't want Max to be too anxious. His eyes got heavy and his head dropped just a bit. Before long he stumbled a little and then he lay down in my arms and drifted off to sleep. Once he was soundly asleep I couldn't hold it back any more and I broke down completely. After a minute or two I reached for a tissue and wiped my eyes. For the next five or six minutes I sat quietly and just held my friend. I replayed the events of the past 72 hours in my mind. If only I had done things differently.

Friday morning I was on this same forum saying that the two "interloper" labs, Jezebel and Isabel, would be leaving the following morning. Max had bitten me two days earlier while trying to get to a dog fight between his littermate, Roxy, and one of these labs, but I didn't hold that against him. He was a guardian and for some reason he couldn't fathom I was preventing him from coming to his sister's aid. We had reserved a rental car, made hotel reservations and my wife would be driving to meet my daughter-in-law in Cheyenne, Wyoming to take the dogs home. I had it all figured out. Finally, everyone was listening to me and the "interlopers" were leaving.

As it turned out, my wife, who was supposed to be leaving at 6:00 am Saturday morning went home sick Friday. She ended up becoming extremely ill and was unable to make the trip. It's almost unbelievable. She NEVER gets sick. Would there never be any end to this?

I had almost no vacation on the books after this past deer season, so we cancelled the reservations and prepared to face the next week. We would have to keep the labs separated, but we thought we could make it work. As it turned out, I was wrong.

We had let the labs out to go outside to answer natures call. Max, my male Great Pyrenees came close to the black lab, Jezebel and she barked at Max. I was closest to her and I grabbed her and held her, trying to get her to shut up. Max was walking away, ignoring her at first, but she kept barking her challenge. Roxy, my female Great Pyrenees, was close to me but she wasn't really concerned yet. The problem was that Max, the Male Great Pyrenees and the yellow lab, Isabel, were close to my wife.

My wife and I were both trying to diffuse the situation, but we were unsuccessful. Max's hackles came up and he started for Jezebel. Isabel's hackles came up and we were close to an explosion. Roxy started to run toward them. Seeing this and realizing what was about to happen, I left Jezebel, sprinted over and intercepted Roxy and held her. That freed up Jezebel to go after Max. Isabel backed off. Jezebel and Max met. The stage was set and the fight was on.

I was holding Roxy and knew that I had to keep holding her even though my wife was trying to break up the fight between Jezebel and Max. If I let go it would turn into a blood bath.

While my wife was trying to break up the fight between Max and Jezebel, our 10 month old Redbone pup, Little Ann, felt that my wife was in danger and decided to come to her rescue. That little girl charged in and attacked Max, doing her best to help her human. Max turned and focused his attack on Little Ann. My wife tried to stop him and that's when Max bit her. Not a warning nip or even a bruising bite, but a bite that drove all four fangs and his smaller upper teeth into her forearm. He must have shaken his head because the fang wounds weren't just puncture wounds; they were deep, 3/4" tear wounds.

As soon as he let go of her he ran outside and the fight was over. At first I didn't know she'd been bitten. I knew something wasn't right because she was crying hysterically. She got up holding her arm and she said "He bit me!!"

I was still holding Roxy, so I pushed her out the dog door, put the insert in, ran to my wife and helped her to the sink to run cold water over the wounds. I knew at that moment what was going to happen. Even if we got the labs out of the picture, we would always have to worry. What if, in the future, a fight broke out between Little Ann or one of the other dogs and Max or Roxy? What if this happened and one of my grandchildren were in the way?

Eventually the vet came back into the room and asked if we were ready. I couldn't answer. All I could do was nod my head. He kneeled down, shaved a section of Max's leg and injected him with the drug that would stop his heart.

Less than a minute later the vet put his stethoscope on Max's chest, looked at me and said "He's gone." I broke down again and kept telling Max that I was so sorry. I knew that in the end, when I considered everything that had transpired during the past six months that it was my fault. I knew that letting my son's dogs come here was a mistake. My wife wanted to let them come here, though, so I gave in. After the first fights I knew they needed to go, but my wife thought we could make it work so I gave in. I couldn't see that every time we broke up a fight that Max thought we were fighting FOR the labs and AGAINST him. I just didn't understand that this huge, majestic, beautiful dog was intelligent enough to decide on his own that if we weren't fighting for him, we were fighting against him and he was going to protect his flock even if it meant going through his human partners.

I can't begin to tell you how I feel. What I can tell you is that I feel like I betrayed my best friend and it cost him his life. Yeah, that about sums it up because it's pretty much true.

To choppersk61, who replied to my previous thread with what I thought were insulting suggestions, I sincerely apologize. I hope you see this. Maybe it was my pride that made me dissect your post and make sarcastic comments. Maybe it was my frustration with this situation. Maybe it was the painful hint of truth in what you said that made me lash out at you. All I can say, again, is that I apologize. There's nothing anyone can say that will make me feel worse than I do right now.

The labs will have no more contact with our other dogs and they are leaving Friday morning.

 

Physically she's okay. I took her to the doctor and while they didn't stitch the wounds, they cleaned them, dressed them and put her on antibiotics.

Mentally? I think it's going to take her some time to get over this.

 

So do I, brother. So do I. I am glad to see that you read this, though.

 

I want to say thanks to everyone who replied. I really appreciate the support. Yeah, it's tough, especially when it could have been prevented, like Dan said. As they say, hindsight is always 20/20.

I'm okay, of course, and I'm getting better each day. My wife is doing much better. She can't use her left arm to do much, but nothing was broken and she'll heal. She's tough. Tougher than me in a lot of ways.

Just so you know, Roxy, Max's littermate is doing well. I was worried about her since they had never been separated. I thought they were really close. The first evening she whined a little and looked around for him, but it's only been two days and she doesn't seem to mind his absence at all. Then again, they had their share of scrapes also, but those we always stayed out of. It's one thing to try to pull a Great Pyrenees off a smaller dog, but diving into a fight between two Pyrs seems pretty stupid to me.