Hateful day...

[Stalker62]

I know it’s hard, but be at peace with yourself for he went contentedly and peacefully in his sleep.

@LuckyEddie

That line, helped more than you can know.

 

[Conor O'Gorman]

I have just read this and very sorry for your loss. Would have messaged you but its locked off. Not thought of it for years, but aged 12, I carried one of mine a mile or two to the vet after he collapsed on our walk after all those tell tale signs and that was the end. Man or dog our time will come. Your poignant dignified write-up about Sam has touched many.

 

[Dagless]

What a wonderful tribute to your friend, it's made me shed a few tears! Take solace in that he had the best possible death, and that we should all be so lucky to go the same way i.e in your own bed, knowing our loved ones are close by.

 

[hedge hunter]

"Sam", our ESS was going to be 13 in July - so about 78 years-old in human terms.

I had held him in my hand (literally in the palm of my hand) nearly 13 years ago, and decided he was coming home with me. He had a ridiculous patch on his right rump, and it just made me smile. He was going home with me.

Fo the next decade and a bit, he allowed us to share his life with him. He was a joy. He was kind, sensitive and an utter joy. He seemed to have a sense of humour. A daft statement to make about a dog, but he made me laugh, and he seemed to know he made me laugh.View attachment 422141

He was not the best dog on the Shoot, but then neither am I the best Keeper - but he enjoyed his days on the pheasants.View attachment 422142


When we took on a young Cocker (almost three year ago now), the Old Bear was so very gentle with her. The Cocker Bitch ruled the house, and the Old Bear loved her.View attachment 422143

This year the Old Bear had started to slow down. He no longer had the appetite for those long walks, we all used to cherish. A quick scoot over the road into the forest was enough for him. I would drop him back home, and then go out on a Yomp with the Cocker. He always managed to look forlorn as I did so, but it was all getting a wee bit much for him. I would shamelessly bribe him with a 'chew stick', as I dashed out of the door again with the Cocker. It was a fair bargain, and he knew it.


In the last month or so, his back legs had begun to weaken. A sure sign that things are perhaps coming to the end. He started to go off his food (unlike any Spaniel), and he had a trip out to the Vets about a month ago. He had a bit of a high temperature (antibiotics issued), but otherwise he seemed 'healthy' enough. We would monitor it.

A couple of weeks ago, my wife went off on holiday with the family. I was left 'home alone'. I was left in charge.

Yesterday I managed to coax the Old Bear out, for a slow amble around the forest. The route finishes up at a kiddies park. There was a young couple with three very small children. I never go through the park if there are children there; but this time the Mum called out, "Do you mind if the kids pet your dogs?"

The Cocker made a beeline for ''Mum" and got as much affection and strokes as she could muster. The Old Bear, just lay down and let the kids pet him. The joy he gave those kids was something to behold. "What do yo say to the nice man?"

"Thank you" they all chorused. I was strangely moved by this simple act. I encourage the Old Bear to his feet, and gently led him home.

He did not eat his breakfast yesterday. I managed to tempt him with some meat slices, but I later noticed that they had been regurgitated onto the lawn. I offered him an ice-cube. He loves ice-cubes. He sniffed it and lay his head down onto the grass. Later on that evening, he declined any offer of dinner. My wife is due back this weekend, and it may be that we have to have 'that' conversation. I fear that the time is drawing near.

Last night I half-carried him out into the garden, to have his night time wee. He did not go. I lifted him, and carried him into the house, and gently placed him in his bed.

I missed my wife not being here. I missed not having someone to discuss 'next steps'. As hateful as that final journey to the Vets. is, it is the reality of sharing your life with a dog.

I did not sleep well last night. That is not unusual. I never sleep well. It is, I think, a legacy from my old working life. Last night I did not sleep at all well.
At about 0400 I wander down to check on the dogs, the Cocker gently scratches at the utility door (she always does), and I open it up to be greeted by her boundless energy.

There is silence from the Old Bear. Not unusual. He sleeps deeply now, and is slow to rouse. He was stretched out, and he looked to be a peace.

I checked his eyes - and he was, finally and forever, at peace.

That darling dog had spared me the final trip to the Vets. The kindest dog I have ever known, was kindness to the very end.

I whispered his name into his unhearing ears, and stroked his unfeeling flank.

I did not know what to do. I had no one to tell, and no one to discuss it with. The Cocker was bouncing around and looking to go out. I took her out into the forest where no one could see me weeping, or talking to myself. What do I do?

Somehow I came to a decision - which is why at 0430 this morning, I was digging a heart-shaped hole in my garden.

I went back into the house, and picked up a multi-coloured blanket, that the Old Bear used to love. I laid it out, and gently placed him in it. As I did so, the Cocker appeared at my side, and said her 'Farewells' to her best mate. It fair broke me.


View attachment 422144


So there it is. Hateful day. I am left with the memories of a wonderful dog; who I hope enjoyed his life with us.

I am also left with that dreadful thing, an empty collar.


View attachment 422145

My wife is heading home today. I am due to pick her up (around midnight) at the local train station.

So if, on a train platform tonight, you see an elderly couple embracing and weeping, you may understand why that is.

"Goodbye Old Bear - You

"Sam", our ESS was going to be 13 in July - so about 78 years-old in human terms.

I had held him in my hand (literally in the palm of my hand) nearly 13 years ago, and decided he was coming home with me. He had a ridiculous patch on his right rump, and it just made me smile. He was going home with me.

Fo the next decade and a bit, he allowed us to share his life with him. He was a joy. He was kind, sensitive and an utter joy. He seemed to have a sense of humour. A daft statement to make about a dog, but he made me laugh, and he seemed to know he made me laugh.View attachment 422141

He was not the best dog on the Shoot, but then neither am I the best Keeper - but he enjoyed his days on the pheasants.View attachment 422142


When we took on a young Cocker (almost three year ago now), the Old Bear was so very gentle with her. The Cocker Bitch ruled the house, and the Old Bear loved her.View attachment 422143

This year the Old Bear had started to slow down. He no longer had the appetite for those long walks, we all used to cherish. A quick scoot over the road into the forest was enough for him. I would drop him back home, and then go out on a Yomp with the Cocker. He always managed to look forlorn as I did so, but it was all getting a wee bit much for him. I would shamelessly bribe him with a 'chew stick', as I dashed out of the door again with the Cocker. It was a fair bargain, and he knew it.


In the last month or so, his back legs had begun to weaken. A sure sign that things are perhaps coming to the end. He started to go off his food (unlike any Spaniel), and he had a trip out to the Vets about a month ago. He had a bit of a high temperature (antibiotics issued), but otherwise he seemed 'healthy' enough. We would monitor it.

A couple of weeks ago, my wife went off on holiday with the family. I was left 'home alone'. I was left in charge.

Yesterday I managed to coax the Old Bear out, for a slow amble around the forest. The route finishes up at a kiddies park. There was a young couple with three very small children. I never go through the park if there are children there; but this time the Mum called out, "Do you mind if the kids pet your dogs?"

The Cocker made a beeline for ''Mum" and got as much affection and strokes as she could muster. The Old Bear, just lay down and let the kids pet him. The joy he gave those kids was something to behold. "What do yo say to the nice man?"

"Thank you" they all chorused. I was strangely moved by this simple act. I encourage the Old Bear to his feet, and gently led him home.

He did not eat his breakfast yesterday. I managed to tempt him with some meat slices, but I later noticed that they had been regurgitated onto the lawn. I offered him an ice-cube. He loves ice-cubes. He sniffed it and lay his head down onto the grass. Later on that evening, he declined any offer of dinner. My wife is due back this weekend, and it may be that we have to have 'that' conversation. I fear that the time is drawing near.

Last night I half-carried him out into the garden, to have his night time wee. He did not go. I lifted him, and carried him into the house, and gently placed him in his bed.

I missed my wife not being here. I missed not having someone to discuss 'next steps'. As hateful as that final journey to the Vets. is, it is the reality of sharing your life with a dog.

I did not sleep well last night. That is not unusual. I never sleep well. It is, I think, a legacy from my old working life. Last night I did not sleep at all well.
At about 0400 I wander down to check on the dogs, the Cocker gently scratches at the utility door (she always does), and I open it up to be greeted by her boundless energy.

There is silence from the Old Bear. Not unusual. He sleeps deeply now, and is slow to rouse. He was stretched out, and he looked to be a peace.

I checked his eyes - and he was, finally and forever, at peace.

That darling dog had spared me the final trip to the Vets. The kindest dog I have ever known, was kindness to the very end.

I whispered his name into his unhearing ears, and stroked his unfeeling flank.

I did not know what to do. I had no one to tell, and no one to discuss it with. The Cocker was bouncing around and looking to go out. I took her out into the forest where no one could see me weeping, or talking to myself. What do I do?

Somehow I came to a decision - which is why at 0430 this morning, I was digging a heart-shaped hole in my garden.

I went back into the house, and picked up a multi-coloured blanket, that the Old Bear used to love. I laid it out, and gently placed him in it. As I did so, the Cocker appeared at my side, and said her 'Farewells' to her best mate. It fair broke me.


View attachment 422144


So there it is. Hateful day. I am left with the memories of a wonderful dog; who I hope enjoyed his life with us.

I am also left with that dreadful thing, an empty collar.


View attachment 422145

My wife is heading home today. I am due to pick her up (around midnight) at the local train station.

So if, on a train platform tonight, you see an elderly couple embracing and weeping, you may understand why that is.

"Goodbye Old Bear - You were loved".

Hi stalker

"Sam", our ESS was going to be 13 in July - so about 78 years-old in human terms.

I had held him in my hand (literally in the palm of my hand) nearly 13 years ago, and decided he was coming home with me. He had a ridiculous patch on his right rump, and it just made me smile. He was going home with me.

Fo the next decade and a bit, he allowed us to share his life with him. He was a joy. He was kind, sensitive and an utter joy. He seemed to have a sense of humour. A daft statement to make about a dog, but he made me laugh, and he seemed to know he made me laugh.View attachment 422141

He was not the best dog on the Shoot, but then neither am I the best Keeper - but he enjoyed his days on the pheasants.View attachment 422142


When we took on a young Cocker (almost three year ago now), the Old Bear was so very gentle with her. The Cocker Bitch ruled the house, and the Old Bear loved her.View attachment 422143

This year the Old Bear had started to slow down. He no longer had the appetite for those long walks, we all used to cherish. A quick scoot over the road into the forest was enough for him. I would drop him back home, and then go out on a Yomp with the Cocker. He always managed to look forlorn as I did so, but it was all getting a wee bit much for him. I would shamelessly bribe him with a 'chew stick', as I dashed out of the door again with the Cocker. It was a fair bargain, and he knew it.


In the last month or so, his back legs had begun to weaken. A sure sign that things are perhaps coming to the end. He started to go off his food (unlike any Spaniel), and he had a trip out to the Vets about a month ago. He had a bit of a high temperature (antibiotics issued), but otherwise he seemed 'healthy' enough. We would monitor it.

A couple of weeks ago, my wife went off on holiday with the family. I was left 'home alone'. I was left in charge.

Yesterday I managed to coax the Old Bear out, for a slow amble around the forest. The route finishes up at a kiddies park. There was a young couple with three very small children. I never go through the park if there are children there; but this time the Mum called out, "Do you mind if the kids pet your dogs?"

The Cocker made a beeline for ''Mum" and got as much affection and strokes as she could muster. The Old Bear, just lay down and let the kids pet him. The joy he gave those kids was something to behold. "What do yo say to the nice man?"

"Thank you" they all chorused. I was strangely moved by this simple act. I encourage the Old Bear to his feet, and gently led him home.

He did not eat his breakfast yesterday. I managed to tempt him with some meat slices, but I later noticed that they had been regurgitated onto the lawn. I offered him an ice-cube. He loves ice-cubes. He sniffed it and lay his head down onto the grass. Later on that evening, he declined any offer of dinner. My wife is due back this weekend, and it may be that we have to have 'that' conversation. I fear that the time is drawing near.

Last night I half-carried him out into the garden, to have his night time wee. He did not go. I lifted him, and carried him into the house, and gently placed him in his bed.

I missed my wife not being here. I missed not having someone to discuss 'next steps'. As hateful as that final journey to the Vets. is, it is the reality of sharing your life with a dog.

I did not sleep well last night. That is not unusual. I never sleep well. It is, I think, a legacy from my old working life. Last night I did not sleep at all well.
At about 0400 I wander down to check on the dogs, the Cocker gently scratches at the utility door (she always does), and I open it up to be greeted by her boundless energy.

There is silence from the Old Bear. Not unusual. He sleeps deeply now, and is slow to rouse. He was stretched out, and he looked to be a peace.

I checked his eyes - and he was, finally and forever, at peace.

That darling dog had spared me the final trip to the Vets. The kindest dog I have ever known, was kindness to the very end.

I whispered his name into his unhearing ears, and stroked his unfeeling flank.

I did not know what to do. I had no one to tell, and no one to discuss it with. The Cocker was bouncing around and looking to go out. I took her out into the forest where no one could see me weeping, or talking to myself. What do I do?

Somehow I came to a decision - which is why at 0430 this morning, I was digging a heart-shaped hole in my garden.

I went back into the house, and picked up a multi-coloured blanket, that the Old Bear used to love. I laid it out, and gently placed him in it. As I did so, the Cocker appeared at my side, and said her 'Farewells' to her best mate. It fair broke me.


View attachment 422144


So there it is. Hateful day. I am left with the memories of a wonderful dog; who I hope enjoyed his life with us.

I am also left with that dreadful thing, an empty collar.


View attachment 422145

My wife is heading home today. I am due to pick her up (around midnight) at the local train station.

So if, on a train platform tonight, you see an elderly couple embracing and weeping, you may understand why that is.

"Goodbye Old Bear - You were loved".

Hi stalker62 I have just got round too read this just gone through the same not so long ago with our tyke.my best mate.so you have my up most sympathy.its got too be one of the hardest things for a dog owner too experience. A true dog man will shed a tear for a loss like this .I did for days after.sorry for your loss mate

 

[terrier1]

beautiful write-up. You have done him proud with your written words.
Having been through this a few times it's never easy.

 

[ben0850]

As others have said beautiful words. That unbreakable bond when we bring a dog into our world is without equal.
Had a few tears reading this, my eldest lab is coming on 13 and showing the signs. I know the days coming at some point and I know I will be utterly heartbroken BUT I wouldn’t change a thing and he’s given me more than I could ever have wished for.

 

[ben0850]

*double post

 

[terrier1]

Just for you and your wife.

 

[wytonpjs]

"Sam", our ESS was going to be 13 in July - so about 78 years-old in human terms.

I had held him in my hand (literally in the palm of my hand) nearly 13 years ago, and decided he was coming home with me. He had a ridiculous patch on his right rump, and it just made me smile. He was going home with me.

Fo the next decade and a bit, he allowed us to share his life with him. He was a joy. He was kind, sensitive and an utter joy. He seemed to have a sense of humour. A daft statement to make about a dog, but he made me laugh, and he seemed to know he made me laugh.View attachment 422141

He was not the best dog on the Shoot, but then neither am I the best Keeper - but he enjoyed his days on the pheasants.View attachment 422142


When we took on a young Cocker (almost three year ago now), the Old Bear was so very gentle with her. The Cocker Bitch ruled the house, and the Old Bear loved her.View attachment 422143

This year the Old Bear had started to slow down. He no longer had the appetite for those long walks, we all used to cherish. A quick scoot over the road into the forest was enough for him. I would drop him back home, and then go out on a Yomp with the Cocker. He always managed to look forlorn as I did so, but it was all getting a wee bit much for him. I would shamelessly bribe him with a 'chew stick', as I dashed out of the door again with the Cocker. It was a fair bargain, and he knew it.


In the last month or so, his back legs had begun to weaken. A sure sign that things are perhaps coming to the end. He started to go off his food (unlike any Spaniel), and he had a trip out to the Vets about a month ago. He had a bit of a high temperature (antibiotics issued), but otherwise he seemed 'healthy' enough. We would monitor it.

A couple of weeks ago, my wife went off on holiday with the family. I was left 'home alone'. I was left in charge.

Yesterday I managed to coax the Old Bear out, for a slow amble around the forest. The route finishes up at a kiddies park. There was a young couple with three very small children. I never go through the park if there are children there; but this time the Mum called out, "Do you mind if the kids pet your dogs?"

The Cocker made a beeline for ''Mum" and got as much affection and strokes as she could muster. The Old Bear, just lay down and let the kids pet him. The joy he gave those kids was something to behold. "What do yo say to the nice man?"

"Thank you" they all chorused. I was strangely moved by this simple act. I encourage the Old Bear to his feet, and gently led him home.

He did not eat his breakfast yesterday. I managed to tempt him with some meat slices, but I later noticed that they had been regurgitated onto the lawn. I offered him an ice-cube. He loves ice-cubes. He sniffed it and lay his head down onto the grass. Later on that evening, he declined any offer of dinner. My wife is due back this weekend, and it may be that we have to have 'that' conversation. I fear that the time is drawing near.

Last night I half-carried him out into the garden, to have his night time wee. He did not go. I lifted him, and carried him into the house, and gently placed him in his bed.

I missed my wife not being here. I missed not having someone to discuss 'next steps'. As hateful as that final journey to the Vets. is, it is the reality of sharing your life with a dog.

I did not sleep well last night. That is not unusual. I never sleep well. It is, I think, a legacy from my old working life. Last night I did not sleep at all well.
At about 0400 I wander down to check on the dogs, the Cocker gently scratches at the utility door (she always does), and I open it up to be greeted by her boundless energy.

There is silence from the Old Bear. Not unusual. He sleeps deeply now, and is slow to rouse. He was stretched out, and he looked to be a peace.

I checked his eyes - and he was, finally and forever, at peace.

That darling dog had spared me the final trip to the Vets. The kindest dog I have ever known, was kindness to the very end.

I whispered his name into his unhearing ears, and stroked his unfeeling flank.

I did not know what to do. I had no one to tell, and no one to discuss it with. The Cocker was bouncing around and looking to go out. I took her out into the forest where no one could see me weeping, or talking to myself. What do I do?

Somehow I came to a decision - which is why at 0430 this morning, I was digging a heart-shaped hole in my garden.

I went back into the house, and picked up a multi-coloured blanket, that the Old Bear used to love. I laid it out, and gently placed him in it. As I did so, the Cocker appeared at my side, and said her 'Farewells' to her best mate. It fair broke me.


View attachment 422144


So there it is. Hateful day. I am left with the memories of a wonderful dog; who I hope enjoyed his life with us.

I am also left with that dreadful thing, an empty collar.


View attachment 422145

My wife is heading home today. I am due to pick her up (around midnight) at the local train station.

So if, on a train platform tonight, you see an elderly couple embracing and weeping, you may understand why that is.

"Goodbye Old Bear - You were loved".

Sad to belatedly hear this last night @Stalker62 and yes, it brought a tear to the eye. The loss of a companion, friend and soulmate is tragic but sadly inevitable, but that doesn't ever make it easy. As we discussed a while back after our HV was tragically shot and killed, emotion is always raw but will in time morph to remembrance of those unique memorable shared experiences.

Whilst I haven't bonded with our two most recent HV rescues as formerly I might given I'm still mentally comparing them to our lost Ruby, I have to say our Teckel has more than risen to fill the vacuum left. Time is a great healer - I only wish we had more of it with our four-legged companions.

 

[Mr. Gain]

Heartfelt condolences, and sincere thanks for sharing such a deeply moving testament to a beloved friend.
No one who reads it could imagine a better life, or a gentler death. He was as fortunate to have you as you were to have him, but good fortune is as nothing without the kindness and love that clearly filled your lives.
It is regret that taints and sustains grief. With nothing to regret, cherished memories can begin their work of soothing and comforting a wounded heart. Your homage here has begun that work in the very best of ways.

 

[geoshot]

You did Old Bear proud with that lovely write up, heartfelt condolences to you and your wife

 

[Bushcrafter]

Bet Old Bear had a bloody great life due to you mate.

 

[75]

Like others, I have just stumbled across this post. Beautifully written as always and I'd be lying if I said it brought a tear to my eye. I'm sat here sobbing my heart out.

I hope the pain is fading; to be replaced by happy memories of Bear that are remembered with great fondness and a smile.

 

[Foxyboy43]

Lady FB and I were just chatting about your very sad post and our thoughts turned to the loss of our old girl Skye in February last year and the awful 8 dog-less months we had before we rehomed a two years old yellow lab in October - Rua - short for “Ruanation” - yellow, like really? I have always had a real obsession fondness for black so how the hell did we switch? Truth is she charmed and beguiled us from our first meeting and yes she has chewed more socks and Ipad cleaning cloths than could be imagined, refused to enter water of any flavour and shivers and shakes like someone going through cold turkey if you even mention the car but…. she is utterly adorable and the most affectionate little lady anyone could ever wish for. We will never forget our old girl Skye, nor Jake, nor Meg, nor Tess, nor Suzy, nor Honey - they all had and still have special little corners of our hearts, wrapped in often funny memories - and after what they each gave us so they should. We were blessed to have had them and we like to think so were they…
I guess the point for us is simple, cherish what you had, think fondly of Bear and each and every dog who passed through your lives and maybe, just maybe, when you are feeling a little stronger, bring another dog into your home; there are so very many out there - they all deserve our best.

 

[Bomag]

Amazing write up, we put so much of ourselves into our dogs, so much time and energy that when they leave us, they leave a huge hole. Always remember the good times and the bad, they made him the great companion he was.