"for the happy, the sad, I don't want to be, another page in your diary"

Friday 3 June 2022


Monday’s shopping list includes minced chicken and liver for MD. His diet is currently a fast moving target.

I have started walking him up to catch the end of L and the Lad's morning walk, when she takes him, so that gets him out of the house and makes him sleep for the rest of morning even though it’s hardly gargantuan distances. That said, I do have to keep hauling him in from the garden. He just doesn't know what's good for him.

Tuesday is dog training and on Wednesday tennis is back, sadly, and tennis in the rain at that.

It’s not particularly nice cycling weather so I don’t bother going into work this week. It is only a three day week anyway.

On Thursday, four days of jubilee celebrations and holiday start with MD eating a full breakfast but then as I cut the hedge he has another funny turn. He totally loses his balance and his eyeballs are twitching which Google says is a classic symptom of Vestibular disease of which he could recover but if it’s caused by something in his brain, say like a tumour he won’t.

Given what happened a month ago and the fact he’s not back to anywhere near like he was after that, the prognosis isn’t good.

We have a very iffy night with him and when he can barely walk or seemingly see straight in the morning we contact the out of hours vet at Priory as yet again he’s ill on a bank holiday. The vet offers treatment for the Vestibular disease but obviously with no guarantees. Sadly though we’ve already decided to end his obvious distress.

Daughter, L and I say a tearful goodbye as he visibly relaxes in my arms, his eyeballs stop twitching and he properly chills out in my arms for the first time in a while and for the very last time.

That’s the end of fourteen years with my Crufts silver medallist, 50 parkrun partner and the sweetest oddball dog who never achieved the heights of being the alpha dog in our pack but never actually wanted to. We’ll scatter him on Wollaton Park so he can be with Doggo and from where on a quiet day I’m sure we’ll be able to hear him barking at nothing.  

We head round to my parents to pass on the sad news. Then we take the Lad down to a couple of pubs in Beeston, Pottle of Blues and the Crown, to drown our sorrows.

(Friday 3rd June)

No comments:

Post a Comment