On October 15, 2001, shortly after 6 p.m., a new star formed near the star known as Sirius. To be certain, it is faint; I doubt that any telescope will ever detect its presence. I'll never see it with my eyes, but I don't need to; I see it with my heart.

It is Wolfie's Star.

It hangs there in the sky, joined by so many other nearly invisible points of light, in silent testimony to this little dog who made such a big impact in our lives.

We got Wolfie in December of 2000. He had been turned in to the Peoria Animal Welfare Society (PAWS) by his owners who simply didn't want him any longer. I'll never understand how they could have given him away, but, then again, I'll never understand how they were able to abuse him, how they saw fit to keep him chained up outside for the entire seven years they had him. We didn't know exactly how his tail got broken, we only have a vague idea how his right ear was damaged so that it constantly laid down flat against his head, and we'll never know how that small chunk of his tongue was lost.

All we knew was that he was abused and needed a home. So we tried to give him one.

At first, Wolfie was somewhat aloof. He had no social skills with dogs or with people. But the one thing he knew he needed was attention. He craved it much the same way that other dogs crave food or become obsessed with a special bone or toy. Wolfie soon learned to accept us and seemed to take great pleasure in jumping in our laps. His favorite thing, though, seemed to be to join us in bed; he'd work his way up the bed, almost stealth-like, until he was lying right between us, and then he'd hang his head over the shoulder of one of us. We called him our "Parrot Dog" because of this behavior.

Wolfie never really seemed to be at peace, though. He found it very difficult to stay in one place for any length of time, except when we all went to bed. I don't know what he was searching for, but I wish that I did. I would have gladly given it to him.

Some dogs have silly expressions, or happy expressions, or just quizzical expressions. Wolfie had a serious, almost studious expression. There was something about the way he looked at us that gave us both the impression that he saw something more than our outsides; it was more like he was looking right down into our souls, searching for something. It may be that he was looking for confirmation of the love that he seemed to need so desperately. Or he may simply have been staring at us in disbelief, fully expecting to receive more abuse that would never come from our hands.

Wolfie was a seemingly happy member of our pack for many months, but, around July, that began to change. He began to physically challenge one of our permanent dogs, Bear, with what I thought was a dominance play. Bear would quickly put Wolfie in his place, but Wolfie never seemed to accept that. He always came back for another challenge.

Soon, these challenges grew into a full-fledged war with Bear. We tried taking him to our trainer for suggestions and we spoke with other people about this problem but no one had any good recommendations for us other than to keep the two dogs apart at all times. Even that became increasingly difficult, as Wolfie would bark and growl from one side of a gate and Bear would feel the need to accept "the challenge" and would jump over the gate. There were many bloody skirmishes in this war, and it often got so bad that one or both dogs would need to be seen by the vet.

Wolfie even began to react negatively to just the word "Bear." This really surprised us both and we knew that Wolfie needed to be placed in a new home and soon. At this point, we had no worries about him interacting with other people; when he was with one or the both of us and could not see and/or hear Bear, he was a sweet, loving Kees who just still craved all the attention we could shower onto him. But we didn't want to put him with someone who had other dogs, fearing that another battle might ensue.

Eileen finally found Wolfie a foster home, but he was there for only three days. He wound up in an altercation with this foster person's cat after the cat swatted him on the nose. We weren't there to see the situation, but, previously, Wolfie had shown no aggressive tendencies towards our own cat. He went then to a second foster home where he seemed to be fine with their large dog. However, when he snapped twice at the youngest daughter, both times unprovoked, we knew we had a problem on our hands.

Not knowing what else to do, we brought Wolfie back home. A short time later, while he was in our Den area and Bear was outside, he tore a hole in a metal window screen and then knocked out the screen so he could jump out onto the deck and attack Bear. This battle was extremely fierce and Eileen was barely able to get the two apart. She took both, in separate trips, to the vet and left Wolfie there for observation as he seemed to be physically exhausted from his fight.

We were now faced with making a decision that we both have always dreaded. The Wolfie we knew had been a sweet, somewhat reserved, but very loving dog. I knew that he would not attack me, but I no longer felt confident that he wouldn't attack anyone else, including Eileen. Something had changed him and we didn't know what; we also didn't know how to change him back.

We tried talking with our very trusted vet, our extremely knowledgeable and talented trainer, and as many dog-savvy people as we could reach. All of them came to the same conclusion we had reached ourselves -- Wolfie needed to be put to sleep.

This was an extremely difficult decision for us to make. Yes, Wolfie was ill. But, unlike a physical illness with obvious signs of infirmity or pain, this was a mental illness, totally invisible, unless he was exposed to something that set him off. As both our vet and our trainer commented, Wolfie came to us with a lot of baggage and it seemed like it was simply too much baggage for him to overcome. They also stressed to us that we had done absolutely nothing wrong with Wolfie; that we had given him a loving home for nearly a year, perhaps the first loving home he'd ever known.

So, Monday evening, I went to the vet to be with Wolfie on his last journey. I held him close. I told him that Eileen and I loved him very much. I kissed his head and sobbed into his velvet-soft ears. I shared with him the story of The Rainbow Bridge and told him to look for Symba and Houska who were already waiting there for us and who would take good care of him until we got there. I also told him to look for Eileen's Dad, who was a major lover of dogs, who would make sure that he got all the ear-scratching he would want; I also told him to remind Dad to let him drive once in a while (it's a long story).

When Dr. Taylor injected him, Wolfie experienced some pain. The doctor said that was unusual, so I don't know if Wolfie was just sensitive to the needle or if he sensed what was about to happen. I hope that it wasn't the latter. He did calm down after a few moments and just laid in my arms. I continued to hug him close and sobbed into his head. When he lost control of his bladder all over my leg, I told him it was okay, that I wasn't upset with him for going in the house.

Eileen joined us; she had said her good-byes to Wolfie when she had taken him to the vet after his final fight with Bear, knowing somehow that he would not be coming home. She hadn't planned to be there, but another rescue dog, Chloe, had a fairly major seizure and we wanted her to be checked out. She stroked his damp ears while I ran my finger along his muzzle.

I could feel him breathing in long, shallow breaths. I had one hand under his ribs and I could feel his heart beating. It seemed so strong. I pulled his head close to mine and whispered to him that it was okay, to not be afraid of going to The Bridge. I also promised him that he was loved and that he would not be forgotten.

A moment later, I could no longer feel his heart.

Even as he left us and went to wait for our eventual meeting at The Bridge, I could feel the presence of that new star. Of Wolfie's Star.

Be well, dear little Wolfie, our beloved Parrot Dog. Run and play in the cool grass around The Bridge. Symba and Houska will show you all the great places to sun yourself, where the sweetest water can be found, and where there are plenty of butterflies to chase. We WILL see you again.

Please feel free to contact us if you wish regarding Wolfie.