Here’s a lovely post on the death of his old dog, from James Lileks.
We lost three dogs last year and gained two.
Humphrey was very old but he made it to the point where he’d had half his life with us. His last year was very much as described by Lileks, a process of decline, milestones passed like his last ever walk, reaching the stage where he couldn’t get up without help, losing bowel control. He was a sweet, gentle old dog who’d had a bad time yet, with that extraordinary ability of dogs, he carried no bitterness.
Sam was scheduled to be put down when we heard of him. He died of natural causes on his bed almost a decade later, after a short illness and a full, happy life. To the people who made him lost, then wanted to kill him I can only say: screw you, he won.
Ben was lost when Sam died, they’d had nine years together. Then we got Bernie and Ben entered a new phase with renewed interest in life. Then he got old, but not gradually, like he’d been hit by a truck. For giant dogs, like Ben, this can happen and it’s a blessing in the sense that that old age though harsh, is brief.
The cigarette burns on Bernie’s back have become less visible, the scars and bruising on his face have healed. We’d just asked for the most desperate case in the rescue and it was Bernie. He was seriously depressed but after three or four months he came over one evening, sat by me, leaned against me, sighed and closed his eyes. He stayed there for half an hour. It was like he suddenly believed, like he trusted this was permanent. He’s also a mastiff. Ever since that evening, he’s felt no need to go off by himself and lie quietly.
Then we took Percy from a euthanasia list, another loving, playful pup about to be destroyed because of human fecklessness. He’s a funny animal, like a cross between a boxer and a ridgeback.
Since Christmas, the rescue we got Bernie and Bertie from have saved dozens of dogs and they’ve been unable to save dozens more, all killed around Christmas with people getting rid of old ones to buy puppies, or dumping unwanted gifts. Most of them are Staffie or Mastiff crosses. Many are bitches who’ve been bred until they’re past their usefulness.
The worst case, who was saved this week, is a Staffie bitch who was used as a brood mare then, when she miscarried a litter, she was thrown to the dogs – used as bait for fighting dogs. Her face was ripped to pieces, her teeth were smashed.
Rescue dogs, don’t buy them from breeders.