Mr C

Due to my having the snip after my toxic marriage, My Lady and I couldn’t have kids. I’m sure we would have had a few otherwise. We decided to have fur babies instead. My Lady already had two cats, Mr S and the Darkest of Stars. We found a beautiful Irish Border Collie. He was four months old. When we went to see him, he was so ecstatic to see us he pee’d all over the floor. Strange as it sounds, that is exactly the response one would expect from a beautiful soul when they are only four months old. We were instantly smitten. What a beautiful bundle of joy he was.

Back then I was still recovering from a crushed vertebra sustained when I had a seizure in a car. There was no hope of going back to work and for a time it was thought possible that I might end up in a wheelchair one day. Being a Border Collie, obviously he needed a lot of exercise. I spent hour after hour out and about with him. We all did. We took a ball flinger with us and he used to run like a racehorse after it. He was lightning fast. After a couple of years of the daily workouts for both of us, I recovered enough to go back to work. I doubt I would have got there without him. I’ll be eternally grateful to him for that. I honestly thought I’d never work again.

He had so much joy in him, it was infectious. Without exception, he was delighted to meet everyone he ever came across. He never once growled, or was aggressive to anyone or anything. He made us all so happy. Such a handsome boy too. Although not kennel club registered, he was a pure breed. I still can’t believe how lucky we were to have him.

By the time My Lady died, he was eleven years old. Not long before she died we did some research on how to look after him later in his life. We found out to our dismay that the average life expectancy for his breed was ten to thirteen years. They are known for their back legs giving out later in life too. There was no sign of it at the time though. A couple of years later though the signs were there.

He would just flop into his bed when we got home from his walk and wouldn’t get up for at least an hour. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help thinking that the clock was ticking. After all the death in my life I was, and still am, hyper aware of any signs of ill health in anyone. I changed his food and gave him supplements to aid his stiff back legs.

Eventually it got to the point where he couldn’t walk far at all and would just refuse to walk further after a short distance unless it was in the direction of home. He just didn’t want it.

Late in the evening last Saturday, I let him out for a pee as usual. After a while I realised he was taking much longer than usual. When I went out to see what he was up to, he was just laying down in the muddy grass, staring into space. I got him in and checked him over. He seemed a bit dozy but other than that he seemed ok. Shortly after, I went to bed having decided to see how he was in the morning. When I woke up, I came downstairs and he was exactly where I left him. He hadn’t moved an inch.

My heart sank. I checked him over again and he couldn’t move his back legs.. At all. I knew at that point that something serious had happened and it wasn’t going to go well, whatever the prognosis.

I called the vet and they agreed it wasn’t good and the chances were that it was the end for him. I kind of knew this anyway. I’ve been in this situation enough times to know.

I still don’t have a car so I asked my neighbor if they would be kind enough to give us a lift to the vet. We have a great relationship and help each other all the time so they were more than happy to help. I had to carry Mr C to the car and into the vets when we got there.

After his examination the vet confirmed the worst. He had most likely had a stroke and was basically paralysed from the waist down. There was no way back from it and there was nothing to be done for him. The vet and I agreed that the only thing left to do was to put him to sleep.

So, yet again I am the death whisperer. While the vet was preparing everything I hugged him tight, snuggling my face into his like I always have, telling him what a good boy he was and thanking him repeatedly for all the love he had given us. As per all the other times I looked into his eyes as he fell sleep then buried my face in his again, bawling my eyes out. I felt his heart stop, looked into his eyes again and he was gone. I’ve done this enough times that I only have to look into their eyes and I can instantly tell even when it’s only been seconds since their death.

“He’s gone” I said to the vet. She listened for a heart beat and confirmed it. I cried for a few minutes on him and when I eventually got up, the vet said “Well done. Not many people can be with them when they go.” I don’t know how anyone can leave their fur baby in a strange place with strange smells and a strange person for their last moments. It’s one reason I always look into their eyes as they go. I am the last thing they ever see.

So, once all the documentation was done and the bill paid, I went back to my neighbor waiting outside and smoked a cigarette, trying to process what just happened. They took me home and I just sat in my chair staring into space for what seemed like hours. once I snapped out of it, I started clearing out his stuff. It might seem callous to some, but many people have the same reaction. I hoovered everywhere, dusted and mopped. The thought then occurred to me that it would be the last time I hoovered his hair, mopped his paw prints and freshened the room of the doggy smell. It felt strange this time. Mr C was the last fur baby and now my home was truly empty. The end of an era. He was fifteen and a half when he passed. A good run for a dog but particularly for a Collie.

Since then I’ve struggled not to cry at work. Coming home he would always be at the door to greet me. I’d then go straight to the back door to let him out for a pee. I keep expecting to see him every day. I miss him terribly. The last few days, I have particularly noticed how different the house smells when I come home from being out somewhere.

So, now all is said and done, I am… Truly… Alone.