RIP Ziggy

As any of you who know me know, I had to make some big sacrifices to move to Israel.  The biggest and most difficult sacrifice for me was regarding my dog, a Boston Terrier (or as we sometimes like to call him, a Boston Terror or a Boston Terrorist), Ziggy.

I got Ziggy when he was just 8 weeks old.  I wanted a French Bulldog, but saw his little squishy face and immediately fell in love.  My Mom and I met him and went home to talk with my Dad.  I knew he was my dog from the start and I even picked out a name for him before we went back to pick him up.  I remember saying to my Mom "I don't know why, but Ziggy seems like the perfect name."  5 minutes later we saw a bus "Ziggy Trucking" and as we turned onto the street where we got him from we saw a sign 2 streets down "Ziggy Road."  It just seemed meant to be.

We brought him home and it quickly became obvious that he was not in perfect health.  Far from it, in fact. He had kennel cough and he was such a little guy... we weren't sure he was going to be okay.  For the first few weeks, several times a day, I had to take this teeny little puppy into the bathroom with me and let the water run, steaming up the bathroom, patting his chest to remove the fluid built up in his lungs.  As he got healthier, he came everywhere with me.  I don't think I have any pictures of him as a puppy because I lost all of the pictures on my computer a few months after I got him, but he was SO FRICKIN CUTE.

We spent a few years living at home with my parents and when the time was right, we moved out to my first apartment.  Ziggy started to develop some behavioral problems and unfortunately the training that I we did with him made it worse.  But, he loved me and anyone that he knew to death and was such a love bug.




He used to love to sleep under the covers.  I don't know what started it, but I couldn't sit on the couch without him trying to get under something.  If I didn't have "his" blanket, he would try and get under the pillows or under my clothes.  If I didn't have anything like that to get under, he would claw at my arm until I got up and got something for him to sit under.

He was really a smart dog too.  Over the course of our time together, he learned so many things.  I taught him to wait at the door.  I taught him the words "breakfast" and "dinner".  We always lived close to my parents house as well so he would always get SO excited when I would ask him "Ziggy, do you want to go to grandma's house?!?"  Being a Boston Terrier he didn't really have much of a tail.  Instead, he would wiggle his entire body when he was excited about something.  I also taught him the usual tricks - sit, paw, down - and added dance, roll over and BANG eventually.  It got to the point where he would see me go towards the treats and all of the sudden, sit, lift up both paws, lay down, roll over and play dead without me saying a word.

I used to compare Ziggy to the most difficult allergic child in the world.  He would break out in rashes if I walked him on anything other than regular grass (even though he loved going walking in the woods).  I had to feed him a special food because anything other than this food made his gas completely intolerable.  I remember going to the vet and asking what to do about the gas.  After a long conversation about how gas is not something to be concerned about I said to him "Look, all I know is that if I was farting that constantly and so badly, I am SURE that it would be an indication of some kind of stomach pain."  We both started laughing and really, there was no argument with that logic.

One time I worked with a trainer who suggested this herbal stuff "rescue remedy."  It was used for people, was quite expensive but I thought maybe it would work and so I brought it home from Whole Foods and gave it a shot.  You always see those warning labels on things "test on a small patch of skin" and things like that when you try new products... and being the dumb impatient person that I am, I always ignore them.  Well, that day I should have listened.  I sprayed this stuff into my pups mouth and waited for him to calm down.  I sat on the couch and we watched some TV together when I suddenly realized his jowls looked a bit swollen.  I got up and took him for a walk and we came back in and he looked like a giant marshmellow.  He was so swollen and gross looking so I immediately called the vet.  Some benadryl and 45 minutes later and he was still swelling up, so off to the emergency vet we went.

There was another time when he got into the trash and ate the contents of an ashtray.  I skipped class that day and was so lucky that I did.  We were laying on the couch together (when I should have been in class) and he started shaking, then suddenly vomiting foam and puking.  I almost lost him that day and I had never been so scared.  He stayed in the vets over night and I was told they weren't sure if he would live.  If I had gone to class I probably would have gotten home too late.

Ziggy was with me through some tough tough times.  6 of the hardest years of my life.  It didn't matter what happened, he was always there for me.  He was happy to play with me when I was having a good day and always made me laugh with his silly antics when I was having a bad day.  If I cried, he sat next to me and licked the tears off my face.  If I didn't want to get out of bed, I had to because I had to take care of him and he needed to be walked.  He saw a couple of boyfriends come and go from my life but he never left me and when I felt alone, I took comfort in knowing that he was with me.

I always felt like I had a small child living in my house.  I would clean up and put all of his toys in a toy bin and I would turn around for 2 seconds and the toy bin would be knocked over and had already succeeded in spreading the toys back out throughout the room.  He had his favorite toys but one was the best and I will never forget what he looked like playing with this toy.  It was a fish.  A big green stuffed animal fish and it had a stuffed shrimp in its mouth.  It was not meant to be his toy but like many other things that didn't start off as his, it became his.  When you pulled on the shrimp, it would come out about a foot connected by a string to the inside of this fishes mouth.  When you let go of the shrimp, the fish would shake violently while it pulled the shrimp back in.  Ziggy actually figured out how to hold the fish, pull the shrimp out and would sit there playing with it while it pulled the shrimp back in with this look on his face like "hahaha... look what I did, Mom!"  Eventually the string broke and he started eating the eyes out of the fish so I had to take the toy away from him.  I couldn't throw it away for some reason so I would hide it where I thought he couldnt get it and every now and again he would find this stupid green fish again and make me laugh as he got this disappointed look on his face that it was broken and made this "Oh well, I'll chew his eyes out" face and went to town.

Time went on and every day he was there for me.  There are some stories that I won't go into because I don't care to remember but believe me when I tell you that he had some behavioral issues.  He couldn't be around strange dogs.  I had a neighbor who moved in upstairs from me and she had a big bulldog of some sort.  One day I was wearing my pajamas and went down to my car with Ziggy to get something.  I had been on vacation and had several bottles of liquor in a plastic bag in my car that I wanted to take out.  They were not in a very strong bag and it was difficult to carry the bag and manage Ziggy but I took him with me and we started back upstairs.  I saw my neighbor with her big dog and started walking quickly up the stairs.  I turned around just in time to see her accidentally drop the leash and her dog started SPRINTING towards Ziggy and I.  I had a decision to make.  I started running up the last few stairs.  I got to the top of the landing and all of the sudden, my pants fell down.  I had to make a decision, save Ziggy, save the liquor, or save my dignity.  So, I ran, pants at 1/2 mast throwing the dog inside along with the liquor bottles.  Eventually all was okay and my neighbor and I, both freaked out, had our first conversation.  I think thats a great way to meet your neighbors.  "Hey, you're new here... wanna see my ass?"

I could go on forever telling stories about him and as I think of more I will probably add them so that I can try and remember the good times and not remember the difficult end.

In July of last year I went on a Birthright Israel trip for 10 days.  Ziggy boarded with the vet and I had 10 of the most amazing days of my life.  At the end of the 10 days I decided that I had not had enough and that I wanted to come back to spend more time here in Israel.  I found out about OTZMA and started thinking about it.  I knew that if I decided to come here for 10 months it would mean having to find a home for Ziggy.  I didn't know what to do with myself.  Here was this oppportunity of a life time.  I needed a change in my life.  I needed to grow and move forwards and staying at home doing nothing for another semester while I waited to be accepted to Towson just didn't seem like the right thing to do.

I wrote this when I was in Israel on Birthright and trying to figure out what to do:

"I'm overcome with emotion right now and its difficult to process.  I feel so liberated being here and experiencing this.  I have never felt like this in my life and it's so amazing to feel such a sense of connection to a place that I have never been before... I feel like this is an opportunity that could change the entire course of my life... The Israeli people are so amazing and they have the same aspirations that we do and yet a very different way of life... Look at the history of the Israeli people and what they have accomplished!  In less than a century they have established a country of their own, set up an equitable government, established themselves as a leader in medical and other types of technology, its simply remarkable.  The issue that comes with my desires is that I feel like Ziggy doesn't fit with the plan.  I love him to death and am brought to tears just writing this.  I love him so much but i feel like if I miss this chance I will regret it for the rest of my life.  I wish I knew someone who could take him and give him a home but I don't know who would and I don't like the idea of not knowing if he's ok..."

I started the application process and started looking for a home for Ziggy.  Anyone who spent time with me during those few weeks knows what I was going through.  I kept sitting there saying to myself "I will find him a home with someone who can take better care of him than I can.  Someone who has a more stable life.  Someone with land where he can run and play and not worry about so many people and other dogs."  I contacted rescue after rescue because I decided that they would be the very best people to find him this type of home.

I guess I do need to explain why I couldn't just find him any old home.  Ziggy was very fear aggressive with strangers.  It was something that had been a problem for us for a long time and my parents had been trying for a while to help me find him a home because he was very difficult for me to handle at times.  There were some people that he did absolutely fine with.  They would come over and meet him and ask me why was I so concerned about him meeting them??  Then there were other people who he just flat out hated.

We decided to place him through rescue because we really thought it was the best chance for him finding the right home.  They were the only people that I thought wouldn't give up on him.  Wouldn't put him to sleep.  Would take the time to find people without young children who had worked with difficult dogs before and could handle the bad that came along with all the wonderful things about Ziggy.  I cried many nights thinking about him, not knowing what would be with him and I have wonderful friends and families who helped me be strong enough to make the decision that I knew I had to make.

I didn't have much time after birthright and before OTZMA.  1/2 of my time was spent packing and the other 1/2 was spent putting up posters and calling every person I could think of to try and find him a home.  I finally found a rescue that was willing to take him.  I was very honest and forward about his problems.  Some would say even overstating them a bit.  I wanted to make sure that the rescue that took him knew what they were in for with him.  I didn't really have a lot of time for everything to sink in, thankfully.  I left him with my parents and got on the plane to Israel... thinking of him and telling myself that he would be better off with someone who could spend the time with him and give him a better home than I could.  "he will adjust" I would tell myself.

I wrote this on the plane on the way to Israel as I sat there crying, realizing for the first time what it all meant:

Such a crazy week and I think it's all finally sinking in.  Ziggy is gone and I'm never going to see him again.  I'm going to a foreign country with a bunch of strangers.  My apartment is gone, my dog is gone and it looks like my courage went too.  I will be far from my family and anyone that I know.  I know the things that make me who I am are not my dog or my belongings or anything like that... But it still feels like I am leaving a piece of my heart behind.  I haven't let myself feel it yet... Which is why this poor little girl next to me keeps looking at me with confusion when I wipe my eyes and sniffle.  She did offer to share her candy with me and gave me a comfy pillow for my butt :).  Seriously though, I feel like I gave up on him.  I know that he can't understand why he has to find a new home.  I can't rationalize it to him.  I know that the reasons I gave him up are valid..."

So I have spent the last 7 months here and I think about him all the time.  I have 2 pictures with me in Israel.  Both of Ziggy.  I have dreams about him...  and for months I have been trying to figure out where he is, praying that he is happy and well-adjusted.  I have emailed the woman who "rescued" him multiple times.  I would really like to share her response but that would mean reading it again and honestly I don't think that I have the strength.  

The moment I read the words "I put him to sleep" I lost it.  Absolutely 100% lost it.  Here are some excerpts from the email.  Regarding why she did what she did:



The only thing I did not do was call your Dad and ask him to come get him. Maybe I should have but it did not occur to me at the time. I was so stressed and distraught I took my vets advice and put him to sleep. I'm so sorry but he was so vicious. He had to be in hell. I could not stand torturing him which is all our interaction seem to do. I could not take him home. We don't have the liability insurance to allow anyone but myself foster violent dogs. No other rescues would take him. I tried. If only I had known the extent of his issues it might have been different. Honestly I would never have agreed to take him unless he'd been on one of the meds I've mentioned and had positive results. He was in hell Erin true scary tormented hell. I know it may be hard for you I'm sure it is since it was horrible for me. I've only made that decision once and it was made with another rescue after a dog attacked a child. I truly agonized over the decision. I cried for days and prayed you would be one of those people that's given up your dog that never asked about them. It happens most of the time but I would not lie and tell you everything is ok. I should have answered your Dad but by Daddy was dieing slowly and miserably and I could not bring myself to tell him. I also could not stand the thought that he'd then have to tell you. I felt that was my burden and I just could not deal with Daddy's dieing so miserably and talking to your Dad. I did say to myself that if he wrote again I'd call and talk to him. I'd have preferred talking to you as well. But could not just put you off.

She had no right to do what she did.  He was not as vicious as she said.  She never even took him home.  She put him to sleep before even bringing him home.  She should have called my parents.  What she did is unforgivable and there is nothing that I can do to fix it.  I will have to live the rest of my life with some level of guilt about the way that Ziggy died.  It hurts me more than anything that he was alone and scared when he died.  My first reaction was to do everything I could to ruin this woman's life.  But it won't fix anything.  If anything it will just hurt dogs who need homes who don't have behavior problems.  I don't doubt that she feels bad... but her feeling bad doesn't make me feel any better.  

Last night, Richard and I buried his picture and lit a candle for him.  I didn't know what else I could do to say goodbye.  I hate this woman for doing what she did.  But nothing will bring him back and nothing will make me feel less guilty.  I finally bought a frame to put his picture in and it will be on my nightstand the rest of my time in Israel.  This has been the experience of a lifetime so far and I wouldn't give it up... but Ziggy didn't have to die for me to come here.  It didn't have to end this way.  

I will always remember how goofy he was and how he was my first dog and my best best friend.. and I will always miss him.  

RIP Ziggy - I will always remember you.