11.
Sam was my dog. An Old English Sheepdog – a border collie – very bright, cantankerous, loyal, loving and crazy – one of the family.
I had him for sixteen years. He was so fit he could run for ever and sometimes he would even do as he was told.
Then Sam became ill. He started becoming very thin and lost energy. I took him to the vets who diagnosed an advanced tumour, liver malfunction and kidney failure. He was inoperable and terminal. The vet gave him some drugs to deal with some of the symptoms and told me to bring him in when the time was right.
How do you judge that? I found myself looking at him and wondering. He still seemed OK. He’d sleep a lot. His walks were now slow walks. Where once he would be bounding through fields and up hills now it was a slow amble round the block with frequent stops.
Yet there were good days and bad days. Some days I’d carry him back from the end of a walk and think – it’s going to be tomorrow. But then the next day he’d be up with tail wagging.
I had told myself all along that if I had a dog I had to be prepared to have t put down when the time came. If I was not up to do that then I would not have one.
The time had come.
Sam had enjoyed Christmas. The family had come home and he’d loved seeing them all. It had perked him up. But after Christmas he had become listless and was painfully thin. He could hardly stand up.
I made the decision and booked the vet.
I let Sam out that morning into the back garden. I went to get him and he wasn’t there. He had broken out. I could not believe it. He did not have the energy. He had managed to dig under and break through the fence and get out. He used to do that when he was younger but had not done it for a long while – now, today of all days.
I knew he could not have gone far. He was too weak. His days of spending the whole night running free over the fields were behind him.
But I could not find him no matter how hard I searched. He could not manage to walk round the block but suddenly he had found the energy to not only break out but run away over the fields. I searched all day. I was afraid that he’d crawled off somewhere to die.
Eventually I received a phone call. Someone had caught him and passed him over to the RSPCA. I went up the back lane and there he was standing with an RSPCA woman. He was pleased to see me and wagged his tail hard. But I could see that he knew he’d been naughty.
The next day I took him in. They kept him overnight to see if a drip might perk him up. It didn’t. He was too weak. The vet agreed that the time was right. Sam was pleased to see me but he could not even stand. I held him and stroked him while the vet injected him. I looked in his eyes and watched as the drugs took hold. My eyes were full of tears. He died.
With tears streaming down my face I carried him out to the car, took him home and buried him in the garden. We said a few words of farewell.
He’s still there. He’s in the garden and he’s in my memory. He’s still one of my family and I miss him.
Death is not kind.
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I know the pain you felt and still feel, there is not a day goes by but I do not have a cry for my baby Daisy, she was a Cross Border Collie we brought back from Ireland, she was five months old on “Killarney’s Traditional Farms”, she had jumped up at me clung onto my Tshirt and would not let go, by the end of the visit I was asked if I would like her, my Sons shouted “Yes”. Sam was 16, how wonderful – Daisy was 14 and like you it was Christmas time, a week before, Daisy had been ill and we knew all the drugs from the Vet were just putting the awful day off. That day came on a Monday evening when Daisy’s breathing was not right, we called out the Vet who said “it was time”. The Boys said their tearful goodbyes, then my turn and I held Daisy in my arms kissing her and telling her how much mummy loved her and would be with her. The Vet gave the injection as I continued to hold Daisy she never took her eyes off me and I swear she had tears in her eyes, suddenly the Vet looked at me and said “Daisy is gone”. I cried then as I cry now. We had her Cremated in Cambridge, the only place that Cremates animals on their own, her Ashes are all hers, not mixed. My Sons have some of her Ashes I have the rest, when I die the Boys will mix Daisy’s with mine and we are going home to Ireland and be scattered where she was born Killarney, and where the Boys and myself have such happy memories.
This is one time Opher when we understand each other and feel the same pain. Animals, Dogs take your Heart – we love them they love us even more. David surprised me about two years ago now, he had a Blue Plaque made dedicated to Daisy, the people who stop to read it on the wall of one side of the house, even take photos, I love it and Daisy continues.
more than one time Anna.
I will agree with you, not argue that one!
That’s good!! We agree again!
We certainly do, nothing like getting the blood boiling is there?
No need for blood boiling.
If there is something you disagree with then tell me. If I’ve got something wrong – tell me. If you think I’m being arrogant then tell me. If you think I’m being a twat then tell me – just don’t get upset. There’s no need.
I think that sometimes you misunderstand the thrust of what I’m saying though.
I’ll listen.
If I think I’m wrong I’ll say sorry.
But I still think we agree on most things.
It’s good to think things through even if we don’t agree on some things. That’s healthy.
The “Blood boiling” was a joke Opher, I thought you would have got that one. Let’s get one thing straight because you have said it before, I have never and would never refer to you or anyone else as a “twat” let alone think it. I told you what I thought, I cannot make it any more clear, to me when shall we say you become very passionate about Religion it comes over to me as your hatred for it all, sorry if you think I have got it wrong but you go on about it all the time and that is how I feel. I have told you and Cheryl today that I do not care what people believe in re religion it’s up to them just as my faith in God, you cannot change me no one can and I am not saying you are trying to – for goodness sake I just feel I have to watch every single word I say to you on this and it should not be that way Opher.
If I misunderstand you then that is how it is, that is how you are coming over to me.
Some people hide under the umbrella of a Church to do their evil, don’t you think I know that for heaven’s sake Opher my mother believed she was doing what her faith said she should when she would whip me, my uncle never felt guilt over touching me, it left me always feeling uncomfortable perhaps a little cold I don’t know, what I do know is I can still see and feel what the bastard did to me, he didn’t do it in the name of God or Church he did it because he was a bloody pervert.
Perhaps in future when you write about this subject, I shall just stay clear and then there won’t be any “ganging up on you”. I think I should opt out now just like Matt.
Anna – I shall go back and reread what I wrote. I wrote it a while ago on the boat. I’ll see how it reads.
I’m not saying you have to watch every word. Feel free to speak your mind.
I’m not trying to shake your faith. I have no hatred for the majority of people who are religious – just the ones who cause the trouble.
I don’t think I was ganged up on. People were saying what they felt. You and Matt clearly disagreed with my statements. That’s OK.
It’s been a busy day here without much time to devote to replying. All a bit rushed.
Being in Holland, without my computer is hard. Not being in your own space.
I shall be home tomorrow.
No, death isn’t kind. All of our pets are buried in our backyard. We couldn’t bear to part with them. One poodle, and nine cats. Do you know the song “Old Shep?” My dad used to sing it to me when I was little and I’d cry like crazy. This one is Elvis. (Won’t put the video here and mess up your blog. You can paste the address in if you haven’t ever heard it.) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2ACtMyq-Eo
Animals mean as much to me as people. That is why I get so worked up about the environment and what we are busy doing to it. Those wild things are not pets, not family, but I still care for them. It distresses me to see their agony.
I don’t have any pets at the moment.
We have put aside these last few years for travel. Then we put on our slippers and I get a dog.
I used to play the Elvis version of Old Shep a lot. It certainly pulls on the emotions. I’m not sure who wrote the original. My brain’s not functioning this morning. It’s too early and I’m too tired.
Travelling back home today!
It has been a fraught week in many ways.
I understand — on many levels.
Cheers Cheryl – we’ve just got home – car broke down on the way back. Nightmare!
Well glad you’re back and no doubt ready for another vacation! At least it’s been my experience after spending extended time with the grandsons that I NEED a vacation! LOL
Grandchildren are lovely but make you aware that you’re not as young as you used to be.
Daughter is moving – required lots of hefting about!
I think we’re both in need of a break!
Opher, I know Matt and myself did not gang up on you, just the suggestion we did I found insulting. You need to rest a bit more, you had a long holiday you have been rushing around and busy all week, take some time just for yourself and relax.
I’m sure Cheryl did not intend that in that way.
IIt was just an interchange of views. No harm.
Right
No, Anna, my dear, of course I didn’t mean to insult you or Matt. I included myself in that comment. It was just that there were three of us firing all these questions and comments at Opher at one time. I myself felt a little overwhelmed and kept getting lost between comments. I figured maybe Opher did, too.
All good.
Death is the great equaliser … we can all share such moments as you describe.
Too true – death touches us all in so many ways.