As we arrived at the vet for Patches’s euthanasia appointment, the person working there asked, “are you here for the nail trim?”

No. No we aren’t.

Miss Patches. The thing I loved most about Patches is that she was unapologetically herself. In times when I have trouble being myself, I think of Patches as a model for how to be more myself. She loved hard, slept hard, and barreled into the yard to chase away a squirrel at 100% intensity. She was a spaz for the hose and bubble machine. She loved to watch TV and run up to it any time there was an animal on it. I will always remember how happy she was to visit me at the hospital and how hard she wiggled her butt when she saw me. She was the best snuggle buddy I know, like a 300lb heat rock. I’d get up to feed the babies, and she’d be in the exact same spot when I returned. And she had the goofiest barks. Her “come play with me” woo woo woo bark, her “you forgot to feed me” bark, and her “those dirtbag neighbors are doing something weird” bark.

We will miss her so much. In lieu of flowers, please send gluten free/dairy free cookies, Costco tamales, and squeaky toys and bones for Ovie (he couldn’t have any when Patches lived here).

I’ve been slow to post on here for a few reasons, but one of which was the looming worry in my head that this day would soon come. And this week, it came. We said goodbye to Patches.

Sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes more training isn’t enough. Sometimes allergy shots and careful attention to health also aren’t enough.

We’ve been pondering this decision for a few years now. About a year and a half ago, Patches bit me in the face. I was doing something I shouldn’t be doing, and it was more like a warning bite than a real bite, out of character for her, but it was still shocking. She’s not small. Then she bit my sister in the face. It turned out that she had an ear infection, so we gave her another chance. We started her on allergy shots, and she’s been fine since. But then 2019 happened. The stress of me being away in the hospital, and then me coming back, and then one baby coming home, and then another baby coming home plus my sister, plus home construction, was too much for her. She bit two more people in the face. We forgot to give her an allergy shot, and the people were doing things that I know she doesn’t like, but how long can you make excuses for the behavior of a dog? All of the bite incidents happened in our home. I am no longer able to control everyone in my home at every moment. Sometimes Sam does things when we’re not looking. Our au pair will be here much of the day without us. It got to a point where I knew I couldn’t keep everyone safe by always being there and intervening. Even if those things were manageable, I started to think about the impact keeping her would have on the lives of my kids. No sleepovers unless we lock up Patches. No public camping. No hiking with the dogs. She was limiting our ability to live our lives. It was hard to open the front door, and I always needed a strategy when we’d walk her or invite people over. I loved Patches, but I can’t sacrifice the well being of my family for her.

We never expected to have twins, and had we not, I’m sure she would still be here with us. She endured a lot this year, and she was close to making it. But sometimes life throws a lot at you and forces you to make choices. So here we are, making a choice.

And sometimes when you build a family and need to make a tough decision, it comes down to the good of the whole. Our whole family was unfortunately worse off with Patches in the mix, given the recent events. We’ve always tried to give Patches a great life. We adopted her with health issues, got her through those, did tons of training with her, and it still wasn’t enough. So for the people who say “it’s not the breed, it’s the owner,” I say “shut the fuck up.” Yes, she would have been fine in a different environment without kids or frequent house guests or at least with more time and space to run around. A home on a farm as the only dog. But we did everything we could for her. Female pitbulls are bossy bitches. They want to be the queen bee. And every time we added something else to our family, she got more and more stressed. She wasn’t her old self.

It feels like ending an abusive relationship. “She’s so great… when she isn’t biting me in the face.” The thing about an abusive relationship is that it’s never so simple. If it were bad all the time, it would be easy to end it. Patches brought us so much joy, even when she was dragging her ass on the carpet. Our love for her and our commitment to her made it so hard to make the call that she needed to go. I kept thinking we could fix it, with more exercise, more training, or more attention to her health.

Part of me feels sad that we couldn’t keep her or do right for her. That’s the loyal part of me that doesn’t like to give up. And part of me knows we did everything we could have given our circumstances, and that genetics play a factor too (she was super stubborn, anxious, and prone to biting as a first warning), and that we made the right call. It is much calmer in our house now, and the kids will have the chance to be the center of attention. Ovie gets more compliments now too.

Another thing I’ve learned, mainly through team dynamics at work, is that when you know a decision has to be made, its best to make it fast. The rest of the team suffers if you drag out the process, and the outcome is usually the same. Yet another thing I learned, through our first dog Magpie, is that pit bulls with aggression issues often do worse when you try to rehome them. Once you break the bond with them, they become more stressed and reactive. I know Patches had a great 5.5 years, and we couldn’t guarantee that she would have a good future outside of our home. So we said goodbye.

We love you Patches. I hope you catch those squirrels in heaven.