29 April 2015
Bloody dog, formerly known as Skip has been my best friend since he was 8 weeks old, give or take a few days, 12 years.
Although bloody dog may not have seen the changes, in 2003 I was a very different person, employed in a job that I hated, and deeply unhappy and lacking confidence.
For the first 8 years he was my Dad's dog. Actually Dad was one of the reasons for wanting to get a dog, to give him a bit of company throughout the day.
Four years ago Dad passed away, and now nearly to the day we've heard the news that we (Mum and I) knew deep inside, but it still came as a shock to the system.
Since his cruciate ligament operation a few weeks ago, bloody dog has been plagued with a very upset stomach and a huge loss of appetite, which for a dog that never wanted to stop eating wasn't good to see.
He's lost a lot of weight since the operation, and with the news confirmed of a lump on his spleen the decision has all but been made for us. The vet said the trauma of the operation and probably caused the problem to become more of an issue.
The vet assures us he's not in any pain, so we'll get a few more days to make a fuss of him. We simply don't know how much longer we'll have him around for. As long as he's comfortable, and seems relatively happy (he's still going for short walks a couple of times a day).
Skip like any dog loves his walks, although he's never much liked travelling by vehicle, so the furthest I've been with him is Christchurch. Even then he never settles in new places, which is partly where the name bloody dog came from.
The frustrating thing about all of this, the cruciate ligament operation that apparently tricked all of this, actually went really well. He's walking better now, nearly without a limp.
Doesn't alter the fact that I love the bloody thing deeply, and I'm tearing up while typing this.
I'm not quite sure how I'm going to cope when the day arrives. I shall probably park up somewhere peaceful and have a good cry by myself.
Skip.... Thanks for all the happy memories. It's going to be a very quiet house once you've gone.