My wife and I got our dog, Andi, from a pound in Tampa, FL shortly after we were married. Andi was about a year old, and insanely hyper. We figured it was just because she was nervous about being stuck in a pound, and excited that we were spending time with her when most other people focused their attention on the younger puppies.

She was one of the older dogs the pound showed us, and we were told it was her last day before they had to euthanize her. I was skeptical at the time, assuming they could easily say this about any dog that they wanted to move quickly, but we fell in love with her and made the decision to adopt her into our family.

She's a mutt, probably part German Shepherd, and part something smaller and more energetic---turned out her hyperactivity was actually a persistent character trait. Despite growing to over 70lbs, in her mind she was a lap dog, incapable of concealing her excitement, jumping all over any guest who came to our home.

When she was 3, we found a tumor on one of her legs and spent what was, to us at the time, a considerable fortune to have it removed. The vet told us that when they tested her blood they found signs that the cancer had already spread, and gave her at most six months to a year to live. I cried about it then.

For the next several years we continued to find tumors and have them removed, each time being told that more tissue and blood tests have confirmed that she's probably not much longer for this world. After several years, we made the decision to stop putting her through the surgeries when new tumors showed up. It was incredibly expensive, it was stressful for her and us during her recoveries (keeping stitches in a dog as hyper as her was incredibly difficult), and she had already far outlived the life expectancy predicted by all of her vets. If it was her time, we decided, then so be it.

The growth of new tumors seemed do die down considerably around the same time we made that decision.

When she was around 10 or 11 years old, her penchant for continuously and violently wagging her foot-long tail at even the slightest provocation finally caught up to her. She somehow injured its tip, so whenever she was excited (several times per day) the wound would re-open and the halls of our house, her sides, and often our pants would get covered in a spattering of blood. No attempt to clean and close it up was successful, so we took the only option available to us. She kept wagging her little stub just as often and violently, starting the very same day we had it cropped.

She's fourteen now, and has finally slowed down. We can tell she's tired. She's at least partially lost control of her bodily functions and regularly has accidents. Her back legs are also starting to give out, causing her difficulty when going up and down stairs in this, the fifth house she's shared with us. Despite being "prepared" for this by a prognosis handed down well over a decade ago, it's still very hard to watch her body and mind slowly wind down. We've started having "the talk" about when we should do her the kindness of ending her suffering.

It's such a difficult topic---are we just "getting rid of her" because she's more annoying to take care of in her old age? Are we "keeping her around" too long despite her obvious suffering due to our own selfishness? How many moments of observed happiness during a day constitutes "enough" to justify her life to continue? How the hell are we supposed to make this kind of decision? These are the kinds of things that run through your head.

She's been a part of our lives for the entire 14 years we've been married, and an even bigger part of our kids' lives, who have not even known a time without her. She's been a kind, sweet, loving, and often infuriating member of our family. I wouldn't trade our time with her for anything. I love her dearly, and those tears I shed for her all those years ago when we found that first tumor are probably coming back for a second and final round some day very soon now.

And so ends my ridiculously maudlin stream-of-consciousness only tangentially-relevant comment. Moral of the story is, if you're looking for a dog, I definitely recommend staying away from the problematic breeds and giving a mutt from the pound a chance, otherwise you could be overlooking a fantastic pet.