Reading this thread makes me so happy. My family and I are actually going through an experience that's very similar to yours, Hilary. We lost our 3.5 year old dobie, Alpha, two weeks ago and we are all so devastated. It was due to peritonitis, which we assume was caused by adhesion in the stomach. The vet didn't find any foreign objects in his body and said there could be thousands of reasons that Alpha could've gotten sick. There were no signs until it was too late so everything happened very quickly. He was way too young and it was way too sudden for all of us. My guess is that it was probably from sticks that he found while we both roamed the forest in our neighbourhood. Obviously, I feel responsible as there must've been something I could've done to prevent it but everyone's telling me that it's not my fault. I can hear it but it's really not how I feel.
Anyway, we are so heartbroken right now that we're not sure that we can ever have another dog, let alone another dobie. But it's great to see that your family have welcomed "Brooks" into your new home and it shows that maybe one day, we can do the same.
Another interesting tidbit is that Alpha's dad was named Remy as well. Alpha's litter also had a whiskey theme. One of his sister's name is CC (Canadian Club) and another brother is named Jamie (Jameson). Just some ideas for you if you decide to keep the whiskey theme!
AlphaDobie, I am so very sorry. I thought I got ripped off losing my girl at 6, you really got a raw deal at only 3.5 years with your boy. All I can say is - take your time and welcome another pup when the time is right. Each of us grieve a different way, I could've gotten another dobe the next day. My grief was so fierce and intense, I would've welcomed any kind of distraction from it. My husband, on the other hand, could've gone a year (or years!) without a dog - and he especially was wary of getting another doberman with their numerous health issues. He was in so much pain that he could've put off having another dog, and the threat of feeling this terrible again, for a long long time.
When Brooks came along, we just couldn't agree as a family. Some of us were ready, some weren't, Some wanted another doberman, some didn't. We were all over the place. But I covertly went to meet Brooks on my own, trusting in my pretty stellar gut instinct that if he wasn't the right dog for us, I would know immediately and not feel bad passing on him. Well, he was wonderful and put the hard sell on me. I left feeling without a doubt this was our dog. I told my husband what I had done the next morning. I told him, "I'm not asking for this dog, I'm just asking you to meet this dog." He agreed to meet him that afternoon and the rest is history.
So take your time to grieve and only move when the time is right. An opportunity my present itself to you that you never saw coming.
And we did stick with the whiskey/bourbon theme! His name is now Bulleit (pronounced like bullet but named after Bulleit Bourbon).