Harley and I grew up together. We got her in the year 2000 when she was only a puppy. I was only two years old when my parents brought her home. Her previous owner gave her away for free and I never knew that she was going to be the best adventure I had.

While Harley was an amazing family dog who loved my siblings and me, she was very protective. Whenever she saw a possible threat, she’d take care of it. My brother and sister-in-law’s dog can vouch for me in the fact that my 17-year-old Labrador/Newfoundland/Chow/Irish Setter could run and bite like the wind because she didn’t want any other dog in her space near her family.

As Harley aged and I did too, our bond grew to one that made us close like you wouldn’t believe. When I would walk her around our block —I can’t tell you how many times—I would talk to her and she would just listen. She would love it when I brushed her every day, even if she didn’t really need to be brushed. I just wanted to take care of her as she got older. Her favorite place to be scratched was her chest and she would literally do anything for peanut butter. One thing she hated most was water. Ironic, because she was part Labrador and Labs love the water! But not Harley. She wouldn’t go near a stream, pond or pool unless it was on her own terms!

As she began showing signs of Hip Dysplasia I would rub her back legs for circulation and walk her up and down our hill to help build strength in her back legs. Months passed and she progressively showed other signs that weren’t great: she wouldn’t eat all her food, she wouldn’t drink a lot of water no matter what I put in it to encourage her to drink, she was going deaf, she went blind in one eye and if you weren’t careful you would startle her and she would try to bite you because she was scared that she didn’t see you coming. I saw all the signs, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe that it might be time to consider the inevitable. I did what I could but it got to the point where she could hardly stand without falling down because of her hips. I needed to help her stand up from lying down because her back legs were so weak.

I came to the decision that the best thing for her at this point was euthanasia and when my Mom and I discussed it, we made the appointment at our vet clinic. The week following I was such a mess. The tiniest mention of Harley and I was in tears. I cried all day when my mom asked me on a Tuesday if I wanted to go with her to the vet clinic on Thursday and be with Harley when she was put down. I knew that because I had grown up with Harley I needed to be with her in her last moments.

The day we walked into the vet clinic, Harley not only made me laugh a little when she went after another person’s dog (don’t-come-near-my-family-mode!) but she also made me cherish our last minutes together.

Harley lay down at my feet when she was sedated and at my feet she died, like the faithful and loving dog she always was. Her heart gave out only thirty seconds after our vet gave her the shot.

What I’ll never forget is what our vet said that day while we waited for Harley to pass: “It’s so hard when their bodies give out sooner than their minds.” And that was so true for Harley. In her mind, she was a puppy, but her body was a 17-year-old dog that kept giving out.

As Harley’s one year mark of being gone is coming up, I’m constantly thinking about all that she taught me in her 17 years of life with my family. She was so patient with my family, even if she could be a little stubborn at times. But she was always so willing and so loving toward us. She protected us and gave us so many memories that I will never forget.

At the end of the day, euthanasia was the best possible option for her. Now she’s no longer suffering anymore and I know that she knew it was time as well.

Harley was the best adventure I had. We had a lot of fun moments together, and the struggles were totally worth it in the end because it only made us closer in those final moments together.