Sasha: A Memorium

We decided to put Sasha to sleep. She had always been a bit of a hunter. She went after her first duck at 12 weeks. Last year she took down an owl in the backyard.
Despite her hunter tendencies, she was a very good dog. She really loved her family, particularly Senior Jefe. He deployed for the first time after we got her when she was about a year old. She sat by the door every night and waited for him to come home.  It was a very difficult thing for me to watch, but it's a testament to how very much she loved him.

The constant moves and Senior Jefe's absence have taken a toll on her. He has spent more than 1/2 of her life away from her. While I raised her and fed her, he was always her love. I couldn't fill those shoes.
Last year we had a similar incident to this one, though the circumstances precipitating the bite were slightly different. She didn't puncture my skin then and we decided to work on it. It happened shortly after Senior Jefe left after a long visit, much like the circumstances surrounding this event.
One can only wonder if her grief over his absence precipitated the events.

I find I am in a quandary in talking about the event. I have had people accuse me of being a bad owner. I must not have been dominant enough, which anyone who has ever spent more than a few hours with me (with or without the dogs) would find laughable. Other people want to demonize Sasha and turn her into some sort of an evil dog, which I don't think is fair either.  No matter what, everyone has an opinion. Given that I have only told a few people and everyone I have talked to about this had an intense reaction to the news, I have basically decided not to talk to people about the situation. I just cannot deal with being judged on top of grieving. Not talking about it seems just as bizarre though. I feel like I am dishonoring Sasha by not talking about her life, her good qualities, including all the nights she sat with her head on my knee when I cried because I missed Senior Jefe. She was, in many respects, the most sensitive dog I have ever had and there were times when I wouldn't have made it without her. Part of me, no matter how "right" I know our decision was, wonders how I will make it without her. She was, for all intents and purposes my best friend, even if she did love Senior Jefe more.

The truth is, this is how I will remember Sasha. She was a sweet,  sensitive, happy dog who loved her family. Whatever else happened, I believe can be substantially explained by the extreme tax the military has taken on every member of our family, including her. I suppose some part of me is angry with myself for bringing her into this life, with more than a dozen moves in 7 yrs and so much time spent without the love of her life. On some level this is part of why I fear having children. I don't think I could look a child in the eye and tell him or her to be strong and carry on when s/he missed her Dad. Nor do I think my heart could take watching them grieve as they wait for someone who may not come home. Needless to say, I am pretty depressed right now.