One Last Trip To The Park

L and I don’t parkrun on Saturday although Daughter does. We rest up after the Hairy Helmet and all three of us do the Ripley 10k on Sunday, which goes well.

In the afternoon we take Doggo to Wollaton Park for one last time and belatedly scatter his ashes on his favourite stretch of grass. It’s been freaking me out having him watching me from the kitchen windowsill for the last three months.

In to the new work week and I manage three bike rides this week, which is better. While the World Cup is now in full flow and I skip dog training to watch England narrowly beat Tunisia in their opening game.

On Thursday the football fixtures come out for the new season and TV immediately start moving them around. Thursday is also tennis and on Friday I head over the Bingham for a night out with the old crowd of university.

The Deventio Brewery who sponsored last week’s Hairy Helmet make good on their beer tokens by inviting me to pick up some bottles from the brewery. Which of course I do.

(Friday 22^nd June)

Doggo (10/08/2001 - 05/03/2018)

Sadly I lost my best mate today.

With the decision made Doggo typically decides to rally, starts walking a bit better, has breakfast and then curls up in the hall waiting for us to go to work.

Instead Daughter comes over to join us and we all head to the vets where having expected to have to carry the old man, he walks in and starts charming the vet. Everyone is in floods of tears and typically Doggo prolongs the agony by not going easy as they struggle to find a vein in his old body. He is easily the calmest one there, I think he knows its time to go.

There’s plenty to reflect on concerning life with possibly the most travelled dog in Britain. From the Isle Of Wight to the Hebrides, from the Lakeland Fells to the Scottish Ski resorts he was there with us on all our trips.

He was a constant presence in our lives for all of his sixteen and a half years. He was our running partner and although he never got to parkrun, he was a parkrun veteran and attended loads. Sadly his last one, on Saturday, ended up with him being carried away from it.

Then there’s his Agility, which we learnt together and muddled our way through to Crufts on two occasions. Happy days.

We almost thought he could go on for ever and he was still enjoying his walks with me last week. We were also so glad that it snowed for him in his final week, he always loved the snow.

“If at some point we all succumb, for goodness sake, let us be young. 'Cause time gets harder to outrun, and I'm nobody, I'm not done. With a cool, cool breeze and dirty knees, I rest on childhood memories. We all got old at breakneck speed, slow it down, go easy on me.”

Sadly, my friend, we’re done. RIP

(Monday 5^th March)

Worrying Dog Developments

As is usual now, we walk a dog each in the mornings. Then I take the car to work as there's a match tonight.

L skives off work early to go see her folks in the middle of the day. While the boss is away... and all that.

Back home later L reports several puddles and then the distressing news that Doggo seems to have lost the use of back legs, won’t eat and barely seems to know where he is. I head home straight after the match to find him in quite a bad way. Every time I try to stand him up he wobbles over sideways. I carry him up the stairs to bed but he won’t settle on his bed and I lift him onto ours. For the first time in many years he seems happy to sleep between us.

I lie with my arm around him, unable to sleep, while getting my head around this being the end and first thing in the morning we’ll be at the vet with him getting confirmation of that.

About 4am, he sits up and seems to want to get off the bed. I help him off and he wobbles, without falling over, to his bed where he curls up and goes back to sleep.

(Tuesday 21^st November)

Ambivalent To The Occasion

With L still sidelined, MD and I again run parkrun with Daughter. Today we’re up at Brierley Forest Parkrun at Huthwaite, the reason being this is where Doggo’s brother now lives and it means we can get the old men together again.

The runs goes well but it is a bit narrow for running with a dog and after MD’s usual shenanigans at the start it takes us an age to catch up Daughter or perhaps she’s just getting speedier.

I also get to try out my new trainers which seem ok but then it was only 5k.

It’s been about five years since Doggo and his brother met up as they have been living down in Suffolk where we have only visited the once. Both dogs seem a little bit ambivalent to the occasion. Doggo is particularly wary as his brother has also been a tad too boisterous for him in the past and can frankly be a bit of a bully.

Age, however, seems to have mellowed him, either that or he’s no long capable of boisterousness. Both the boys are now sixteen.

(Saturday 7^th October)

National Spoil Your Dog Day

Supposedly today is National Spoil Your Dog Day, although I thought every day was spoil your dog day, and it is also Doggo’s birthday. How appropriate. He is sweet sixteen today.

I make a rare voyage onto Facebook and post a picture of his custom made birthday card with him in a cowboy hat. He promptly goes viral.

I bike today and then later it’s tennis, followed by a beer afterwards at the Crown in Beeston.

L runs to us from the other side of town after a pump class at Djanogly.

(Thursday 10^th August)

Rough Out There

As is now becoming the norm Doggo hoovers up all the deer poo on the park and then declines his breakfast.

It's really rough out this morning, very windy and foggy, so I’m more or less glad that I didn't cycle and got the bus instead.

Dogging tonight and then afterwards a pint in the Masons with L. Wainwrights is back, rather appropriately as we’re off to the Lakes this weekend where I’ll be hoping to avoid it of course.

(Wednesday 11^th January)

Simply Not Meant To Be

Today is a momentous occasion, it is Doggo’s 15^th birthday. I, sort of, celebrate it with a pub lunch. He would have liked that, had he not been stuck at home.

L is in Leamington meeting up with Son although yet again there is a fatality on the line (this always seems to happen to her) which disrupts her journey. It wasn’t her train involved by the way.

I pedal home quickly with the intention of getting the lawn cut before heading off to pick up L from the train station. Unfortunately (for the lawn) but, as it turns out, fortunately (for me) L gets home earlier than expected and distracts me with a better offer. The lawn can wait.

She also forgot to take Son the chocolates we bought him in Bruges, so we conclude it’s simply not meant to be and eat them ourselves. 

(Wednesday 10^th August)