Kilo

It all started when I was 19. A neighbor had given me a beagle puppy that didn't want to stay with him and always came to me, but little to my knowledge, he had fed it rat poison and it only lived a couple days. Fast forward a couple months, and I was still heart broken and lonely, I lived on my brothers couch, and his wife convinced me to find a dog on craigslist for free that needed a good home. During this time I was between jobs, making gas money buy selling homemade bath salts, soaps, and bath bombs. She said that she used to be homeless, and having her dog Kia was what encouraged her to strive and push to find work and make a better life; so away to the computer I went, day in and day out, endless scrolling to find what seemed like a good dog.

I found an add, for a free dog. I clicked the picture attached before my face, was the creature that would change my life, only I was not aware of this yet. This brown and white face stared at me. He was cute, and I was curious so I emailed the poster and set up a time to meet him. My sister-in-law was excited, while my brother wanted to make sure I understood this was a Pit Bull and I was going to need to pay close attention him. We loaded up in her van and set off to find him. When we arrived, the woman explained to me that she had 5 children, with one of them autistic and the other in a wheelchair. We entered the tiny home, and were blown away by the amount of stuff and animals that were in this small place, and 5 children sitting on the couches. The dog sat between the two disabled children, slowly got up and walked straight to me, and sat on my foot. She explained his name was Kilo, and he was about 9 months old. She said they took him from a home they think abused him, because he was afraid of stairs and men. I honestly did not want him, but when I saw how the four other dogs treated him and how the family acted towards him, I knew I had to take him. They wrapped a nylon leash around his neck, apologizing saying that was all he had with him when they got him and handed him over to me.

A few weeks later, I was so stressed, he had already EATEN a charcoal water filter, many books, destroyed a lead and got out, and the final straw for my brother was the fact he chased a couple chickens. Out of frustration, i posted a new add on craigslist to give him away for free, and listed him as a dog that chased chickens. I got reached out to by a family who ended up being the people that, the people I got him from, got him from. I couldn't in my heart give him back to them, so I apologized and blamed the post on my brother. They still wanted to meet up so that their kids could see Kilo again, and I reluctantly agreed. I met up with the family at a big park, and the two kids were so excited, running around playing. The mom and I got to talking, to find out everything the family said was a lie. The mom (we will call her Carmen) explained that when she was driving a almost two years prior, she watched a truck in front of her through two puppies out the window on the freeway in a small Washington town, one puppy bounced over the edge and landed in a small body of water underneath. Carmen said at the time she had a Pit rescue so she pulled over and gathered both puppies. Kilo was the one who fell into the water, and she rushed both dogs to the vet. Kilo had extensive work on his ear that was ripped badly, thus resulting in his jumbled up ear (that the previous family claimed that Carmen had tried to do an at home ear dock). Carmen explained how she worked extensively with the two dogs and trained them well to be good boys, and how there was not a 'man' in her life to make them afraid of men. She said Kilo's brother was very attached to her children, and unfortunately one day, her neighbor in a drunken fight busted into her house while she was at work and started going after her children. Kilos brother stood between the man and the kids and ended up defending them, but due to the laws in Washington state, he was forced to be put down as a "Vicious Dog".

Carmen explained after that incident, she had planned to move to Idaho, and was not able to take any of the dogs with her, and had lined up an adoption for Kilo and he was supposed to go to Alaska. A week before he was supposed to fly out, she was approached by a woman looking for a service dog for her autistic child. Feeling sad for the woman, Carmen agreed to cancel the previous plans, and adopt him to her. She packaged up his custom made sheep's wool harness, foam dog bed, bucket of tennis balls, expensive sensitive skin food, and his shot paperwork and gave it all with him. While the family passed none of that to me. It turns out, they had been using him as a bait dog instead of a service dog.

I kept Carmen up to date on the life of Kilo for years, and even though we lost touch, I still sent her a message the day he passed away.

One day, not long after learning more about him and using that to work with training him, my sister-in-law took him out for a hike with her dog Kia, he was so excited, running up and down hills, well one hill, was in fact a train tunnel, he went running up it, hit a patch of wet leaves, and launched himself off of the cliff. He landed right in front of my SIL, almost cartoon like. He limped for a while, and never went running up hills again. Lesson Learned.

After taking Kilo in to the vet to make sure things were right and get his shots updated, I learned he was in fact not a few months old, but actually close to 6 years old. The vet showed me how to care for his ear and gave me various tips about his skin.

Over the years, Kilo and I were inseparable. Even after a huge fight broke out between me and my SIL, and we moved out. Not having a place to go, Kilo and I lived in my car for months, driving out to rest stops in the evening, finding friends for him to stay at while I went to work, or bringing him with me. I eventually was able to move into some old coworkers apartment, with there dog Savage. Savage and Kilo were quick friends, though Kilo was always my grumpy old man in the morning. We ended up moving from that little apartment in the city, to a duplex a couple houses down from my brother and sister-in-law. Which put Kia and Kilo back together again. Though the neighbor between us, was another story.

Mr. Neighbor was an animal hoarder and abuser. Our Animal Protective Services had always kept an eye on him and were ever he moved to. With a shed filled with hundreds of birds, ten to fifteen cats inside with no litterboxes, at one point he left for a week long trip and the cats all broke into the twenty rodent cages and ate all of them. His five or more dogs always left outside, no food or water, digging at the ground as we watered tree's. His animals would always be taken away, he would pay the fine and get them back, we watched this happen dozens of times, mind you, this is the same neighbor who fed the puppy rat poison before giving him to me. Mr. Neighbor hated me and Kilo with a passion, to the point he adopted a large Great Pyranese that was aggressive towards dogs, and put him in a fence separate from his German shepherds who were also aggressive, and next to our fence.

At one point, the dog busted part of the fence with his head and grabbed Kilo's paw, almost ripping off the due claw to pull him closer to him. That was surgery one. Another time, one of the German Shepard's completely busted through the fence, and mauled Kilo's Face. I had to rush him to the emergency vet clinic for surgery, two six foot suture wires later I was trying to talk to Mr. Neighbor about it and he started threatening to shoot me and Kilo if he saw us outside of our fence. When I called the local Police department, dispatch informed me that they do not deal with dog issues and would not be dispatching someone. turns out they lied, and dispatched police when I had left to go get him from the vet. That was Surgery Two.

We ended up moving From the outskirts to a small camper trailer in a park two towns away, Just Kilo and I. Life was simple then, Kilo learned to be a good boy by himself, and would enjoy sharing food with me. Our lives were about each other. Walks and car rides, holidays. My brother went from "don't let that F-ing dog outside or I will shoot him" to "Where is my PUUSSSYYYY DDOOOOOGGIIEEEE" they shared a special bond. Kilo met so many people who were terrified of pits. But his calm and loving demeanor always won them over. In the park, we had a woman try to claim that he was a "Fighting" dog and that I had carboard with blood from fighting him, that at night we held fighting rings. I was investigated thoroughly, only to find she did not like me, or him and made the whole thing up.

We lived in that park for a couple years, before moving my trailer to the back of my fathers property, where Kilo's new best friends were two Weiner dogs. Ever seen the Disney move "The ugly Dachshund?" that was our property. Kilo was always running around with his best buddy Spencer, a happy little dapple who if got to excited would pee. His sister Maddy was a black and tan who was very much a princess, and would only play on her terms. One day, Spencer and Kilo were playing and spencer rolled over and squirt squirt on Kilo's nose, Kilo stood up, shook off and for the first time ever, lifted his leg, and let the firehose go. Spencer was soaked.

One day, the dogs were all out playing, and the wieners ran under the backhoe, Kilo thought he could fit and ran under too, gashing open his side at his ribs, Surgery three. A few years later, Spencer was hit by a car, we are pretty sure Maddy pushed him into the road, but that feeling aside, Kilo would lay by his grave and cry. Even though he still had Maddie to play with, he missed his spencer.

Kilo was with me for my entire young adulthood, through various housing situations, numerous new animals like cats and other dogs, and various romances. He stood by me during my party stages, and my lonely at home days. When my now husband moved into my trailer, I made him very aware, Kilo was my child, and nothing would change that. Kilo took to having another human around very well, though it was clear that I was his human.

Husband and I bought our first our first house, Kilo's age was gradually starting to show, but he was excited none the less, bigger house and more room. Though the yard was much smaller than the farm, I honestly don't think he cared, being as he couldn't run much anyways. A year after moving into the house, we had decided to get a new puppy. Kilo was always been a good dog, and we figured he would be able to teach the puppy the ropes. Riker came bounding into our lives at 7 weeks old. A rambunctious, half Collie, Quarter Shepard, Quarter Rottweiler. Kilo tolerated him at first, setting boundaries for the annoying floofball that wanted to always be nest to him, but over time, he did start to love him, and it brought some life back into that 18 year old man.

Right after he turned 19, Kilo's health took a toll. By this point he had already been wearing male wraps for about a year, and canine dementia had started setting in, but we started noticing little things like him whining, or laying down in the hallway. At one point, we noticed he was drastically losing weight, so we started making notes about his eating, to realize he was forgetting to eat. I had to get a can of wet food, and open his lip and rub the food on the inside, for it to trigger to him to eat. Then had to move his food to the carpeted hallway because he couldn't stand up long enough to eat. He would fall over. We agreed, his time was coming and decided we would give him to Samhain, and on November 1st, help him cross the rainbow bridge. My husband and I spent many days carrying him up and down the front steps, after he started falling up and down them. And numerous nights, my husband would sleep on the dog bed with Kilo, cause he wouldn't stay on the bed, but his hearing and vision had just stopped working, and he was scared. The heart breaking days, were the days when he coward away from people, the dog who loved everyone and was not afraid of anything, would hide and whine from many loved ones. We knew he wasn't going to make it to Samhain, and I could not watch him be in pain anymore.

so in June, we had one final family bbq for him at my brothers, everyone was there. He was given everything he could manage to eat, and kept mindlessly trying to wonder off. I called the vet after that and set the appointment for a week. While I got reprimanded at work for having to leave an hour early. I was not going to NOT be there for him. We stopped at McDonalds, got a cheese burger and nuggets and fries, and parked at a park next to the vet, for that final moment. He knew, and he was ready. He wouldn't eat anything, but just sat on my lap and smiled. That was the hardest day of my life.

Thank you Kilo, for the adventure of a lifetime.

RIP Kilo, June 26, 2020.