Letting go . . . and what dogs know

If you have been visiting this blog for a while, you may remember, the story of Christmas Holly, the very elderly, unwanted Labrador, who came to live here last December, after being offered for rehoming on Facebook and Twitter. She was already 14 when she arrived, had an open wound to her leg, was wearing one of those large plastic collars and hadn't had the best of care, so I had no idea how much time she had ahead of her.

Christmas Holly, as she appeared on Facebook

I soon learned what a redoubtable, determined old dog she was when, despite her great age, she sailed through surgery, which enabled the wound to heal, and then, against all the odds, made an almost complete recovery from a stroke, going on to enjoy spring and then summer here in Devon, not to mention visits to my family in the Chilterns. Twice a month, we would set out for the 30-mile round trip to South Molton for the acupuncture sessions that made such a difference to her mobility. And, being a Labrador, she could, had I let her, have eaten for England.

And then . . .

And then about three weeks ago, I sensed that she was beginning to struggle more with everyday things; meanwhile other symptoms started to materialise. I know enough about old dogs to accept that, this time, there would be no amazing recovery. Last week, I took Christmas Holly to see Rachel Foster, the vet who had been gving her acupuncture and we both knew that this would be Holly's final visit. 

Two days ago, our regular vet, Sherry Waite, who hails from Kentucky and is just the best possible advertisment for American vets, together with one of the practice's vet nurses came to the house. Sherry is kind and compassionate and made sure that Christmas Holly did indeed 'go gentle into that good night'. My much-loved and erstwhile stubborn old dog slipped away, almost imperceptibly, and without a murmur.

'It was the right thing to do,' said Sherry, 'and the right time.'

The Edinburgh Boy had already gone to spend the afternoon with his best chum, Duke, and, after Sherry and the vet nurse had gone, I was acutely aware of the absolute silence in the house.

A litlle later, a friend and I took Holly on her last journey, across the Devon countryside to the place where we take all our companion animals when the time comes.

Although Christmas Holly was with me for less than a year, she came into my life at such a significant time and the bond we formed was unbreakable. She saw me through that first, post- cancer year and I realised that it was almost a year to the day since my surgery, that my dear old canine companion started to fail. She began to become anxious if she could not see me; she would wake into the darkness of night and bark at who knows what; her breathing had changed, and her old legs had become much weaker. 

The Edinburgh Boy sensed the changes too and, having spent every night of the six years since he arrived here curled up in his bed, at the foot of mine, he spent the night before Christmas Holly died stretched out beside her. The night after she died I woke  from a dream, thinking - in that half-awake, half-asleep state - that I had heard her bark. I ran downstairs only to find the Edinburgh Boy fast asleep in the same spot, just a foot away from where her bed had been.

So now, it's just the Boy and me and Mr C, the tabby cat, again and I can't quite believe how swiftly the 10 months that Christmas Holly shared with us have gone. Do I have any regrets about taking her in? Absolutely not. Would I do it again? Almost certainly, although I could not say where or when. I firmly believe that rescue animals have a way of finding us when we can help them most and when they have something unique to give us. It isn't always apparent what that might be but I know exactly what Christmas Holly gave me and it was, is, something beyond measure.

Comments

[Angela]

Hi, I'm so sorry to hear about Christmas Holly :-( Thank goodness she found you for those ten wonderful months together.

I know something of what you are going through, as we took in our most recent rescue dog, Jasper, as a 12 year old emergency foster, on New Year's Eve 2009. We had him for about 20 fantastic months, until he very sadly passed away a month ago.

Feel so blessed to have had him join our little family. I know what you mean about rescues finding us. We weren't looking for another dog really, and my next rescue was meant to be a young female Lab. Until a 12 year old male Heinz 57 turned up!

Best wishes,

Angela

[Vanessa]

What a beautifully written tale about Christmas Holly. She was fortunate to spend those last months with someone so caring. It's heartwarming to know there are such good people out there.
Love the pictures too, especially the one of Holly in front of the fridge!

[Friend In New Zealand]

I feel so privileged to have met The Dowager - farewell, sweet dog.

[Nan]

Oh, this is so, so sad. I am very sorry, but I'm glad you had the time together, and that you each helped the other. What a gift a dog is. I've often read that the only trouble with a dog is that they don't live long enough. You've written a beautiful tribute to her and to her companions, both two and four legged.

[materfamilias]

You gave her such a lovely end to her life -- we should all be so lucky!

[Maureen]

It is hard to believe that dear Holly was with you for less than a year, she was such a part of the family. I know she will be sadly missed but what a beautiful time you gave her.
M xx

[Kathleen Jones]

Commiserations - but you gave Holly something wonderful. Beautifully written too.

[Tubby]

So sorry that she's gone and that I never met her, but so happy that she had all your love during her final months xx

Fast asleep. Singing birds in their leafy cover
Cannot wake her, nor shake her the gusty blast.
Under the purple thyme and the purple clover
Sleeping at last.

[Christina]

I'm so very sorry for your loss and yet feel such gladness that there was a good dog who was so well loved.

Thank you for the living, the loving and the splendid telling of it.

[Sally]

I am sorry to hear that Christmas Holly has passed away. Please give an extra hug to Edinburgh Boy from a stranger who understands about his loss. I have sat by special dogs in their last illnesses that I have loved, adopted, been attached to by dog-sitting and it's hard no matter the circumstance. Ten months is actually a long time in terms of habits and attachments and she will have left a big gap in your home. You were lucky to have had each other at the right time for you all.

[colleen]

I can think of no kinder way for you to say goodbye to your dear old girl. And what a fine home you gave her too.

[Jennyff]

A sad but very beautiful post, you express so well that having Christmas Holly in your life so briefly was worth the pain you are feeling now.

[lovethosecupcakes]

So so sorry to read about Holly (and of course I'm blubbing as I type). I know you feel lucky to have had those 10 months in her company. I also know she struck gold when she found you.

[60 Going On 16]

Thank you all so much for such kind and understanding comments. It has taken me a whole week to post a reply but I just want to say how much I appreciated your words and how much they meant at a sad time.

By chance, while we were out on our afternoon walk today, we met a couple who had recently rehomed a Battersea dog. She was very old indeed - a grey and grizzled Jack Russell terrier who had been found wandering the streets of South East London. We swapped 'oldie' rescue stories and I could see how devoted they were to their old girl - and how devoted she was to them. It cheered me up enormously. As one of my neighbours here in the village remarked on the subject of rehoming elderly dogs; 'It's all about ensuring that their last memories are happy ones.' Amen to that.

[Monica Eisenberg]

Aw! So sorry she's gone (sniffle...)

[Nonizamboni]

My heart goes out to you because I've been there. You wrote such a touching tribute to that dear girl -- one of the many angels with four paws. Thank you for sharing.

[Julie Brammer]

I'm so sorry you had to let Christmas Holly go. It's the last and kindest thing we can do for them, but oh how it hurts. Bless you for taking her in and making sure her last days were all good ones.

Jules

[Jay from The Depp Effect]

Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that you lost her. She was a very lucky old lady to have found you and spent a happy almost-year with you!

You're right, these dogs do have a way of finding us. 'Young' Ranger found us .. I was looking for an easy dog this time; young enough to be trainable (perhaps 6 or 7 years old) good natured, and a potential off-leader. They SAID Ranger was an 'angel' and would go off-lead in time. They SAID he was good with all other dogs. They SAID I'd hardly know I had him. Not so.

He came to me with an undiscovered, horrible, deep ulcer in his mouth, and issues with his mouth being touched (not surprising) and also with his feet being touched. He was the first dog who's growled at me in fear. He was horrible on lead and inclined to want to snap at other dogs. He's cost us over £1,000 in medical fees since June and it's going to be unwise to let him off-lead without a LOT of work.

They SAID we could return him if it didn't work out, and to be honest, I tried, since he was also body-slamming Sid and hurting him. But they got another foster in and said they couldn't take him.

Did I need him? Not a lot. Did he need me? For sure he did. And we've got very fond of the old rogue - he's my shadow these days.