Dear Madge.
In February 2010, Annette asked if we'd like you to come and live with us. She knew Pie was grieving since losing our brown boy in December and she also felt you'd prefer a quieter life, where you weren't challenged for tennis balls.
I was slightly worried you wouldn't like being away from your family and might not adapt to the change, but we all decided to give it a go. Within an hour of arriving, you'd decided which sofa was yours and perhaps most importantly where the tennis balls were kept. You settled immediately and on the first night I found you cuddled up beside Pie, snoring away, without a care in the world. That was the beginning of the very special friendship the two of you were to share. You showed Pie such kindness and gentle encouragement, that my unhappy girl was soon smiling again.
When we completed our Spin family with Ted, you were in your element. Not only did you have a bestie who adored you and a never ending supply of tennis balls, but you now had a puppy who was destined to spend the first two years of his life soggy, from your devotion to his personal hygiene. Ted instinctively knew to go to you when he was frightened or tired and you'd lovingly kiss his face until he either felt brave enough to face the world again, or fell asleep.
On warm summer afternoons we'd walk to the river and the three of you would go swimming. You were always the first in and the last out. I'd stand on the bank yelling at you to get your backside out of the water, but you'd just look at me as if to say, five more minutes, as you splashed on by. You didn't win any points for your swimming style, but you did a world class impression of a drowning donkey. Another outdoor pursuit you were passionate about was hunting. You and Pie had many close encounters with the local gamekeepers. All I will say about hunting, is you were very good at it and Surrey's pheasants sleep alot easier now.
Cold winter nights would find you stretched out in front of the fire and neither Pie or Ted ever questioned your right to the best spot. The only time you'd leave the fire, was to pick up a ball and come sit on my lap while you groomed your fuzzy green baby. Oh how I miss squealing "watch your bloody elbows Madge" as you'd fidget to get comfy. Life was so good. I was living with the three best dogs in the world and couldn't believe my luck.
In May you began puffing and getting tired during your walks. I thought it was probably the heat, but got the vet to check you out anyway. My legs turned to jelly when they said you had a very large swelling next to your heart. The referral practice suggested it might be an infection, so they put you on a long course of antibiotic. The next few months passed with little change, but even though the vets visits were fairly positive it became apparent that you weren't getting better.
On September 19th, you became desperately ill. Since your last lot of x-rays a few weeks earlier things had really deteriorated. The main tumour was attached to your heart, but you now had many smaller ones throughout your chest and one in your hock. The vets stabilised you that day, but didn't expect you to survive the weekend. Annette came to see you on the Friday and I was so relieved she'd been able to come and hug you and kiss your beautiful face. By the Sunday you were much brighter and I thought you'd enjoy some fresh air and change of scenery. You were still very weak and wobbly, but I knew you'd be upset if the others went out without you.The idea was that we'd drive to the woods and while my friend walked Pie,Ted and her two dogs, you and I would just mooch about for a bit and go back to the car when you'd had enough. You were happy to do that for about ten minutes and then you took off. I saw you run across a field that borders the wood, obviously following your buddies scents. I phoned my friend to say Madge is trying to find you, to have her say, she's just turned up and is showering Pie and Ted with kisses. You'd run over a quarter of a mile to get back to your best friends. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to kick your ass for scaring me, or be blown away by your bravery and devotion. I chose the latter and continued to be amazed by your spirit, right to the end.
Against the odds, you survived the weekend and stayed well for three more weeks. We had a few bad days and a couple of very dark nights, but not once did your temperament change. You were the same, sweet, kind, happy girl who had stolen our hearts over three years earlier.
I don't want to dwell on the day we said "see you later" except to thank you from the bottom of my broken heart for telling me when you were too tired to stay any longer.
Everyone who ever met you, was completely captivated. Not just by your physical beauty, but by the gentle soul that lay within. You will live on in the dogs that carry your DNA and I hope one day to share my life with another Spin who carries a piece of you with them.
I will take you home to Annette soon, so you can be close to your boy as you rest beside your mum. The memories I have of our time together will remain locked in my heart forever. The sadness I feel is a small price to pay for loving you.
Sweet Madgey, I ask nothing of you except that you know how very much you are loved.
Good night my angel xxx x
In February 2010, Annette asked if we'd like you to come and live with us. She knew Pie was grieving since losing our brown boy in December and she also felt you'd prefer a quieter life, where you weren't challenged for tennis balls.
I was slightly worried you wouldn't like being away from your family and might not adapt to the change, but we all decided to give it a go. Within an hour of arriving, you'd decided which sofa was yours and perhaps most importantly where the tennis balls were kept. You settled immediately and on the first night I found you cuddled up beside Pie, snoring away, without a care in the world. That was the beginning of the very special friendship the two of you were to share. You showed Pie such kindness and gentle encouragement, that my unhappy girl was soon smiling again.
When we completed our Spin family with Ted, you were in your element. Not only did you have a bestie who adored you and a never ending supply of tennis balls, but you now had a puppy who was destined to spend the first two years of his life soggy, from your devotion to his personal hygiene. Ted instinctively knew to go to you when he was frightened or tired and you'd lovingly kiss his face until he either felt brave enough to face the world again, or fell asleep.
On warm summer afternoons we'd walk to the river and the three of you would go swimming. You were always the first in and the last out. I'd stand on the bank yelling at you to get your backside out of the water, but you'd just look at me as if to say, five more minutes, as you splashed on by. You didn't win any points for your swimming style, but you did a world class impression of a drowning donkey. Another outdoor pursuit you were passionate about was hunting. You and Pie had many close encounters with the local gamekeepers. All I will say about hunting, is you were very good at it and Surrey's pheasants sleep alot easier now.
Cold winter nights would find you stretched out in front of the fire and neither Pie or Ted ever questioned your right to the best spot. The only time you'd leave the fire, was to pick up a ball and come sit on my lap while you groomed your fuzzy green baby. Oh how I miss squealing "watch your bloody elbows Madge" as you'd fidget to get comfy. Life was so good. I was living with the three best dogs in the world and couldn't believe my luck.
In May you began puffing and getting tired during your walks. I thought it was probably the heat, but got the vet to check you out anyway. My legs turned to jelly when they said you had a very large swelling next to your heart. The referral practice suggested it might be an infection, so they put you on a long course of antibiotic. The next few months passed with little change, but even though the vets visits were fairly positive it became apparent that you weren't getting better.
On September 19th, you became desperately ill. Since your last lot of x-rays a few weeks earlier things had really deteriorated. The main tumour was attached to your heart, but you now had many smaller ones throughout your chest and one in your hock. The vets stabilised you that day, but didn't expect you to survive the weekend. Annette came to see you on the Friday and I was so relieved she'd been able to come and hug you and kiss your beautiful face. By the Sunday you were much brighter and I thought you'd enjoy some fresh air and change of scenery. You were still very weak and wobbly, but I knew you'd be upset if the others went out without you.The idea was that we'd drive to the woods and while my friend walked Pie,Ted and her two dogs, you and I would just mooch about for a bit and go back to the car when you'd had enough. You were happy to do that for about ten minutes and then you took off. I saw you run across a field that borders the wood, obviously following your buddies scents. I phoned my friend to say Madge is trying to find you, to have her say, she's just turned up and is showering Pie and Ted with kisses. You'd run over a quarter of a mile to get back to your best friends. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to kick your ass for scaring me, or be blown away by your bravery and devotion. I chose the latter and continued to be amazed by your spirit, right to the end.
Against the odds, you survived the weekend and stayed well for three more weeks. We had a few bad days and a couple of very dark nights, but not once did your temperament change. You were the same, sweet, kind, happy girl who had stolen our hearts over three years earlier.
I don't want to dwell on the day we said "see you later" except to thank you from the bottom of my broken heart for telling me when you were too tired to stay any longer.
Everyone who ever met you, was completely captivated. Not just by your physical beauty, but by the gentle soul that lay within. You will live on in the dogs that carry your DNA and I hope one day to share my life with another Spin who carries a piece of you with them.
I will take you home to Annette soon, so you can be close to your boy as you rest beside your mum. The memories I have of our time together will remain locked in my heart forever. The sadness I feel is a small price to pay for loving you.
Sweet Madgey, I ask nothing of you except that you know how very much you are loved.
Good night my angel xxx x
No comments:
Post a Comment