The Goodest Boy Has Landed

Posted on February 6, 2023 by Samantha Rose

Brutus and Kevin were curled up on the sofa together. It was a particularly cold evening in August and although the gas heater was on, the boys still felt the need to snuggle up to each other.

The things you do to keep warm
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Kevin had been particularly clingy with Brutus in recent weeks, choosing not to leave his side and curling up next to the old dog whenever he could. Brutus seemed to take some comfort in this contact and the two boys would much prefer to be next to each other rather than with myself or my husband.

“My leg is hurting me.” Brutus sighed one night. “The human is taking me to the vets tomorrow to get it looked at.”

Kevin looked up from washing his bum and frowned, “Are you OK Brutus?”

“Not sure yet, I hope so” Brutus shrugged.

Saturday 6th August 2022 – At the Vets

Brutus had always loved going to the vets as he gets to kiss the nurses and gets spoilt with treats and this visit was no different. The vet let him scoff the rest of the treats in the tub while she examined his hind leg. It was painful for Brutus but the dried roo snacks made it a pretty good trade off.

“There is a slight swelling on his right hock, it could be an infection or arthritis but we have to rule out more serious things so best we X-ray him.” said the vet and she then organised an X-ray for the following Wednesday.

Brutus loved all the staff at the vets – pic taken in healthier times for Brutus
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Wednesday 10th August 2022

“See you later then?” Brutus grinned at Kevin. His handsome face now frosty with grey fur on his eye tufts and around his muzzle. But although he was nearly ten years old, he still behaved like a puppy and was obsessed with his toys.

“You bet you will. I’ll bite your legs if you sniff my bum!” Kevin taunted him.

“You don’t have any teeth Kevin but hey, who am I to shatter your plans.” Brutus smirked back at him.

“Are you scared?” Kevin asked him.

After a few seconds Brutus replied bluntly, “No, I am not.”

And with that, Brutus was led outside and helped into the car by his human Dad while Kev pressed his face against the window and watched the car reverse out of the garage.

I was working from home that week and later that day I received the call from the vet saying that the X-rays showed it was looking likely that Brutus had bone cancer. But they were going to obtain a sample to make sure because there was a slim chance that it could be an infection and that needed to be ruled out. At that point I was hoping by some miracle it was an infection but the awful sinking feeling in my stomach told me otherwise.

Several hours later, I collected a sleepy Brutus from the vets along with his bag of strong painkilling medication. The vet and the nurse lifted him into the car for me and I drove home with my precious cargo in the back while sporadically sobbing each time I stopped at any traffic lights. I wasn’t ready for this – none of us were. How dare cancer do this to our dog.

Thursday 11th August 2022

Mates for life
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“How will the humans manage without you?” Kevin asked Brutus that evening once Brutus had filled him in on the news.

“They have you to help them Kevin.” He nudged him gently.

“How will I manage? I mean with my anger management issues, am I up to the job?” Kevin quizzed him.

“You are the ONLY man for the job and of course you will manage.” Brutus said firmly.

And with that, Kevin had to be content but inwardly he was terrified because being alone had never been his strong point. He had always enjoyed interacting with Brutus through the bedroom window watching him play in the garden and Brutus had always done a splendid job of keeping the stray cats out of the garden in return. (Kevin hates other cats)

The Results

The vet telephoned me the next day to say that there was no sign of infection and that it was indeed bone cancer – likely osteosarcoma. This is a fast spreading and aggressive cancer and quite often, by the time it is diagnosed, it has often spread. Suddenly, a few things fell in to place about Brutus and his behaviour in recent months – nothing specific, but things that could easily be put down to old age or arthritis but with further investigation, would show otherwise.

Brutus weighed 35kgs and already had a reduced range of movement in his hips from old age and we did not think it would be fair on him to amputate his leg and put him through chemotherapy. He was not the kind of dog that could manage on three legs at all and he was already looking unwell which probably meant that the cancer had spread.

After ending the call with the vet, I called my husband to give him the news. He too had been hanging on to the hope that it would be an infection or arthritis and it was awful to shatter that last bit of hope for him and I could hear the devastation in his voice.

Because we had been advised that he could have between one and three months left to live, we had decided to treat Brutus palliatively and make every single day for him count and create a bucket list of his favourite things to enjoy.

Taken just after he had his Xrays
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Saturday 13th August 2022 – Bucket List

“What’s a bucket list?” Kevin demanded to Brutus, “And why have you got one and I haven’t?”

“Because I am the goodest boy!” Brutus said smugly and nudged Kevin so hard that he fell off the sofa and said “Bollocks!”.

The Goodest Boys Club
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus then patiently explained to Kevin what a bucket list was and how it is a nice thing to do in order to fill the time that you have left in life with the things that would please you the most and make you happy.

Kevin frowned, “I have a question?”

“Go on, what is it?” Brutus asked him.

“Why do we have to wait until our time is running out before doing nice things? Why doesn’t everyone do the stuff that they dream of doing now?”

Brutus didn’t reply because he didn’t know the answer to that and quite frankly, neither do I.

But I will say that his bucket list consisted of lots of nice things including a trip to Petstock to choose a toy, have all of his favourite food, go to his favourite cafe, have his favourite humans come round to see him, go to Bunnings and have a hotdog from the sausage sizzle and finally, take him on a final holiday to our favourite AirBnB in Prevelly, Western Australia.

Bucket List Item Number 1. – Favourite Cafe and Beach Trip

Me and Brutus – Day One of his bucket list
Photograph by Samantha Rose

The first item on the bucket list was to take Brutus to ours and his favourite cafe and feed him whatever we were having and that day. He enjoyed both savoury and sweet muffins. In fact, he had most of ours as we didn’t have much of an appetite to be honest.

“Mum?” Brutus asked me.

“Yes darling?”

“Have I got crumbs on my face?” Brutus stuffed his smushy face up close to mine.

“No you haven’t Brutus.” I told him.

“Well, don’t you think it’s about time that I did have some crumbs on my face – and in my mouth?” He eyed up the last piece of savoury muffin on my husband’s plate.

I laughed at him and gave him the piece of muffin and watched him eat it in exaggerated fashion as though it was a three course meal. Brutus was never a quick eater and would make a big deal out of the smallest of morsels.

After that we went for a gentle walk on the beach by the riverside. It’s a gorgeous place and Brutus’s often used to swim there.

Brutus on his favourite beach in South Fremantle – Pic taken in healthier days
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Bucket List Item Number 2. – Petstock

The next stop was Petstock in South Fremantle – our local pet shop, this was on the same day as bucket list item number 1. Brutus loves it there as the girls always make such a fuss of him and give him treats. Let me add that Brutus’s tantrums in this store were legendary and he was famous for them. Each time I took him to the store, if he found a toy that he wanted and I wouldn’t buy it, you could bet your sweet life that he would throw himself on the ground, shadow box with his front paws and refuse to get up.

The wonderful staff there would usually have to tempt him out of the store with food/treats to get him to my car.

On one occasion he spotted a blue plush unicorn head toy and decided that he wanted it. We managed to get him out of the store to the car with treats. But then he threw himself onto the bitumen in the carpark and kicked his legs like a baby horse.

The only time he moved was when I took him back into the shop to purchase the said unicorn toy. While I was waiting to pay, my husband called and asked where I was (I was due home). Explaining to him about the tantrum over the toy, my husband sighed, ‘You are not going to buy it for him are you, he has more than enough toys!’

“I can’t exactly make any promises I am afraid” I replied. And much to the delight of Brutus, we left the store with him clutching his new plush unicorn head. We even got a photo of one of the store assistants posing with Brutus and his unicorn. What a day that was for a dog to be alive – he had a captive audience, treats from the store, lots of cuddles, told what a good boy he was AND he got the toy of his dreams.

The day of the ‘Unicorn Incident’ and the fabulous staff at Petstock
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Anyway, as part of his bucket list, we let him choose some toys and treats and got the staff to keep them behind the counter for us and I would pay for them the next day (Monday).

“Can I really have whatever I want?” Brutus barked happily.

“Whatever you want.” I hugged him. He looked so happy to be there, his tail wagging in circles so fast that he knocked some of the toys off the shelves. Unable to believe his luck, he noisily snuffled into some fluffy toy rabbits and then searched along the shelves until he found some Kong toys. We made our selection and the girls put them aside for us.

It had definitely been a good day for Brutus. He was limping a little and we were careful not to walk him far – literally just the bare minimum for him.

Monday 15th August 2022

But despite our best efforts and much to my shock, I couldn’t believe how much Brutus deteriorated overnight. When I woke up on Monday morning to take him for his morning pee, he got off the sofa and his leg gave way. It broke my heart to see my darling boy scrabbling along the floor and I had to use a towel under his belly to help him to the garden. Hoping it was just morning stiffness, I asked my husband to keep an eye on him while I was at work.

Later that morning my husband called me to say that Brutus couldn’t stand properly on his own and could now no longer walk unaided. Not only that, he was visibly looking tired and unwell.

The vet had in fact warned us that his leg would not be strong – sometimes the leg can even just break/snap with osteosarcoma and it would be excruciating. We didn’t want that happening to Brutus so when my husband called me, I knew it was decision time.

“What do you think?” I asked him, my heart was pounding in my chest, I felt physically sick. Did I want to know the answer?

“I think he’s done.” My husband said sadly.

Taking a deep breath, I telephoned the vets to organise the final trip to Rainbow Bridge for my sweet dog who wouldn’t even get to complete his bucket list of a sausage sizzle at Bunnings or go down to Prevelly, to the cottage that he loved so much.

Our favourite Air BnB Cottage in Prevelly – Brutus loved his holidays there
Photograph by Samantha Rose

We really wanted the vet to come to our house so that Brutus could be comfortable in his home with his family. The vet agreed with our decision and arrangements were made to come to our house at 11am the next day (Tuesday 16th August).

Brutus and Kevin remained close that night, it was a private connection that we were not privy to and could only watch. “Brutus, who is going to run around the Mitzi when you are gone?” Kevin meowed, he looked quite upset. “Because it can’t be me, I am an indoor cat.”

The old brown dog frowned, “There may not be anyone that can run around the Mitzi for some time I’m afraid.”

“How did that all start – running around the Mitzi?” Kevin asked him, “Tell me the story again…”

Brutus patiently started to tell Kevin the story of how running around his human Dad’s Mitzi car, became something of a national sport within his garden.

And speaking of the Mitzi, allow me to tell you the story so that you will know what I am talking about.

Run Around the Mitzi

One of Brutus’s habits was that when my husband came home from work in the evenings, he liked to do a lap around my husbands car – a Mitsubishi SUV. We don’t know why he enjoyed it but we do know that it was important for him to greet my husband in this way.

It didn’t matter how cold/wet/windy it was, on his way back into the house after saying hello to my husband, he had to run around the ‘Mitzi’. He would then run inside at speed, skidding across the floor while looking absurdly proud of himself. We even got to the stage where we could say to him ‘Brutus, run around the Mitzi!’ and he would do so on command, running as fast as his long legs could carry him with a big grin on his face.

I would hear the garage door go up – sometimes early, sometimes late – even midnight and Brutus would go outside, wait for my husband to park the car, greet him and then do his laps around the car. It was adorable and became part of our evening routine. Kevin would watch out of the living room window looking somewhat bemused at Brutus clumsily doing zoomies around the Mitzi.

We tried to confuse him one night as we both drive SUVs and I put my Kia where my husband would normally park his Mitzi and then let Brutus out. Brutus was about to start running when he skidded to a halt, looked at both cars and then immediately went to my husbands car to start running. There was no tricking him let me tell you that.

My husband did say though, he enjoyed Brutus going outside to meet him every night, wagging his tail, wiping his snout on his jeans and then doing laps around the car. It was a lovely welcoming home routine and we loved it.

Bedtime

We left the bedroom door open that night and in the early hours of the morning, we could hear Brutus scrabbling across the floor to come into the bedroom.

He went to see my husband first and then I helped him up on to the bed. I was squished up at the end of the bed with nothing but a sheet to barely cover me and felt as stiff as a board. Yet I couldn’t disturb him.

I occasionally felt a gentle lick on my face but other than that, he slept soundly between his two humans.

I took this photo of him on the morning that he left us – this final cuddle was so important to him – to all of us. Photograph by Samantha Rose

The garbage truck came and went without event and without Brutus barking at it and starting off the local dog choir that usually did the obligatory barking every Tuesday. I guess another dog would have to take over that role.

But for Brutus, his time with us was almost done and he had earned his rest.

Waiting….

We have never had any of our animals sent to Rainbow Bridge from home before – but it just seemed to be the right thing for Brutus. Rocky our kelpie went to the vet as an emergency so it was different for him.

The waiting part was the hardest. My chest was aching with grief, we knew it was the kindest decision and we owed Brutus a dignified and pain free ending. But still, it didn’t make it any easier.

At 09.54am I received a text from the vet saying that they would be arriving at around 11.30am. That was fine by us as our good friend Greet – a lady that Brutus loved so very much and had always bought him birthday and Christmas presents, was going to come round to see him to say goodbye.

When she arrived, Brutus was lying on his bed, wagging his tail and made heroic efforts to try and stand up so that he could wash her neck and show her what a good boy he was.

“Ive bought you some toys!” Greet said to him while holding a stuffed cow and a stuffed bright pink pig (Brutus loved his squeaky plus piggy toys that Greet used to buy him).

‘Is that mine?” Brutus asked happily and before Greet could answer, he took the pink plush pig and tried to hobble to the living room to play.

“Damn it, my legs won’t work!” Brutus looked frustrated as his hind leg gave way from under him. Greet coaxed him back on to his bed so she could pet him without him falling over.

“You’re such a good boy, you really are!” Greet told him. Then she gave a delighted Brutus all the cuddles he wanted while he frantically tried to wash the tears from her face.

Greet and Brutus – goodbyes are hard
Photograph by Samantha Rose

A bit later after Greet had gone, we saw the car pull up outside the driveway and we opened the garage door so the vet and the nurse could drive into our garden. We quickly had to put Kevin in his room as we did not want him to see any of this and he isn’t always good with visitors anyway.

The sofa was ready with Brutus’s favourite toys – including his beloved unicorn and favourite bears. Brutus’s blanket had been carefully laid on there for him – all the things that he loved were there.

The vet and the nurse came armed with a soft blanket for Brutus to lay on. Brutus was so happy to see them, “Hi ladies, how is it going?” Then as he tried to get up to greet them, he collapsed to the floor and we helped him up so he was sitting on the blankets on the sofa.

We chatted for a bit, we laughed and we cried – they had known him for his entire 9.5 years and had watched him grow into the magnificent dog he was. Then the vet put a cannula in to his hind leg – he barely noticed it. (Brutus hated his front legs being touched).

Now the next part of the story will be seen from Brutus’s point of view

Brutus was on the blankets on the sofa when he heard a little cough. Ignoring it, he rested his head on his paws while the humans fussed him.

“Excuse me, it’s rude to ignore visitors!” A well spoken voice said in the background.

Forcing himself to sit up, Brutus blinked a few times, cocked his head to the side and gasped.

“Hello my friend!” The voice piped up. And there; standing right in front of Brutus was his old kelpie brother Rocky who crossed over to Rainbow Bridge in 2018.

Our old Rocky Dog
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus looked at the humans who were busy talking. How could they not see the little black kelpie dog in the living room? “OMG Rocky! You came for me – but I don’t understand, how come the humans cant see you?”

“They can’t see me, only you can. I am here to escort you on to the next part of your journey to Rainbow Bridge.”

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do?” Brutus looked a bit frightened.

“Let your humans cuddle you and enjoy it – make the most of it and make the most of them. Don’t worry, I’ve got you and everything is going to be OK I promise.” Rocky comforted him.

Brutus settled back in the sofa and he noticed that his Mum was sitting right next to him and his Dad was leaning above him and stroking him. Rocky was right, how jolly nice to have so much affection and the fluffy blanket felt so nice and soft as well.

“Kangaroo meat Brutus?” He heard his Mum’s voice ask him. That was nice, he never got roo meat in the mornings. He took it gently, ate it and continued talking to Rocky.

“You are looking good Rocky, how are your hips? Do you still have cancer?” Brutus asked him.

“Some raw steak Brutus?” His Mum offered him.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Brutus laughed and gobbled down the steak.

“No cancer, no bad hips – life is fantastic if I say so myself!” Rocky replied and then added. “Oh yes, you have a few people waiting for you at Rainbow Bridge, I think you are going to be in for a nice surprise!”

“Schmackos Brutus?” His Mum handed him some treats. She was crying. Why was she crying?

“Hmmm, Oh yes – go on then!” Brutus nodded. “I am a bit tired but I’ve always got room for some Schmackos but no more after that, I am too full to eat another thing.”

“Who is there, is Vader the boxer there?” Brutus yawned.

“Might be, only one way to find out!” Rocky barked softly.

“Rocky, I feel a bit funny, Oh no, I’m scared, what is happening? what do I do?” Brutus panicked.

“You’re Mum is right in front of you, give her a kiss.” Rocky instructed him.

Brutus had started to lose focus but managed to look at his Mum’s face – it was so close to his, close enough to kiss her. And that is exactly what he did just before he fell asleep.

Time to go….

Brutus and Rocky remained for a few minutes, watching the humans and Kevin – who had been let out of his room to acknowledge what had happened and to say his own goodbyes.

“Will they be OK?” Brutus asked Rocky.

“Yes, in time they will. They will soon come to realise that it was for the best. Your Mum and Kevin are going to need a bit of looking after though – it’s going to be hard on them in coming months.

The two dogs watched on for a few minutes more as Brutus adapted to how he was feeling and his new self.

“Ready to go my friend?” Rocky gestured to Brutus.

Taking one last look at his family, the vet, the nurse, the sofa, the toys – everything he loved, he nodded, “Yes, I think so!”

Then in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Breezy – Brutus’s sister

Breezy on the left and Brutus on the right
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Breezy is Brutus’s sister and her human and I, are friends on FB – I have known her more or less since we adopted the dogs.

Our dogs have had playdates in the past and were so very alike in mannerisms and behaviours, I would refer to them as ‘two halves of a whole dog’ because they were that identical.

Breezy’s human told me that around the time that Brutus died, Breezy had gone out into the garden. She suddenly went a bit wobbly on her legs, vomited, looked confused for a bit and then after a few minutes, she calmly walked away.

Breezy I must add, is just as kind and gentle as Brutus was – I still maintain that they were two halves of the same dog and we got so lucky when we adopted them.

Me and Breezy on the left, and Me and Brutus on the right
Photograph by Samantha Lakehal

Rainbow Bridge

Bowie the white greyhound and Gatekeeper of Rainbow Bridge had been up since 5am making sure everything was ready for that day.

He had instructed some of the Rainbow Bridge residents to line up on either side to greet the new arrival.

Vader the boxer, Madam Gigi, Fat Harry, Augie and Dash – the Italian greyhounds were lined up and ready.

Brutus and his old Iggy friend Dash
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“Oh darling, I cannot believe he is coming to us at last!’ Madam Gigi said dramatically as she fanned herself with a large leaf. “I truly might faint with excitement!”

“I know what you mean, this is bloody unexpected isn’t it!” Fat Harry puffed his cheeks out and shook his head. “Still, it’s good that the gang are slowly reuniting again I must admit!”

As the Italian greyhounds spoke loudly in their high pitched voices, all trying to shout at once in order to be heard. Dash was asking if there were any snacks as he was hungry and Fat Harry was pointing to his mouth and doing gestures of hunger. Madam Gigi was still fanning herself with the leaf and while occasionally glancing at Vader the boxer trying to waft his farts in her direction.

It was so noisy that Bowie the greyhound had to cough a few times to get their silence.

“Excuse me everyone! Can we have silence please!” Bowie barked to shut them up.

“Shhhhh, he’s coming!” Madam Gigi hissed at the other Iggies.

Suddenly you could hear an unmistakable deep voice saying, “Are you sure I am going to like it here?”

“Absolutely.” A voice replied.

As the clouds parted, Brutus and Rocky slowly walked up towards Bowie who was several metres from the gates of Rainbow Bridge. Bowie had greeted millions of animals entering The Bridge and now he had to greet the gentle giant that stood before him – the dog that he had heard so much about from the Iggies.

“Hello Brutus, welcome to Rainbow Bridge. My name is Bowie and I am the gatekeeper.”

“Pleased to meet you Bowie.” Brutus puffed up his chest and smoothed his ears to make himself look smart.

“Fancy a run through the gate?” Rocky poked Brutus’s neck with his snout.

“I don’t think I can do that, my leg has been awful lately.” Brutus shook his head.

“Try it, you might surprise yourself.” Rocky said to him.

The two dogs slowly began to walk towards the gate. Then Rocky started to trot ahead of Brutus, occasionally looking back to encourage him. “Come on, speed up!” He barked.

Follow me Brutus
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus looked hesitant, he always needed lots of encouragement to do things he wasn’t sure about. He watched Rocky who had stopped trotting but was gesturing him to move towards him. He had to step over the gate in order to be accepted into Rainbow Bridge, there really was no other way.

Meanwhile, the Italian greyhounds and Vader the boxer were lined up just on the other side of the gate, watching and willing him to start trotting.

“I want my Mum…” Brutus started to cry, his entire body trembling.

Madam Gigi knew that Brutus thrived on encouragement and applause and she also knew that from the old days of lure coursing, even when Brutus took a wrong turn and crashed through the barriers, that the love and praise from his human Mum was enough to make him think that he had ‘won’.

“Come on Brutus! You can do it! You entered the fastest dog in Australia competition – you did so well. Come on lad, you can do it!” Madam Gigi started barking at the top of her voice.

And it didn’t take long before the others started to catch on and shout out encouragement at Brutus who was still mumbling to himself ‘I want my Mum!’

“You can do it Brutus! Come on the Goodest Boy!” Fat Harry shouted in his high pitched Italian greyhound voice.

“Come on Brutus, it won’t hurt we promise, try and run through the gates!’ Augie cried through cupped paws to try and make himself sound louder. Just for the record, if you want to know how an Italian greyhound talks, just imagine breathing in some helium and then talking. That’s exactly how they sound.

“OMG, is that Madam Gigi, Fat Harry, Augie, Dash and the gang!” Brutus beamed at Rocky.

Rocky said nothing but nodded in the direction of the gate and Brutus not only recognised his Iggy friends, but could also a solid tan and white boxer dog who was standing right at the front of them.

“Vader, that’s Vader!” Brutus howled. Vader was Brutus’s best friend and had crossed to Rainbow Bridge a couple of years ago leaving Brutus utterly lost without his flappy jowled mate.

Taking a deep breath, Brutus started to trot towards the gate of Rainbow Bridge. As he got closer to Bowie the greyhound, Bowie gave him a wink and a salute as he passed him.

He was nervous at first, of course he was but with each stride he got faster, more athletic and very quickly he realised that there was no more pain to hold him back.

Once Brutus was over the other side of the gates, he was greeted by his best friend Vader the boxer and his Italian greyhound friends that had passed years before him and it were as though they had never been apart.

Together again – Vader and Brutus
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Bowie the greyhound smiled at the emotional scenes from behind the gate. Then picking up his special mobile phone, he made the final important call before he could close out on this job.

“Hello, is that Pippin? – It’s Bowie…..”

Pippin’s House

Pippin the Italian greyhound was sitting in his living room. Wearing a red and gold velvet smoking jacket, he was sipping on a glass of whippet whiskey (that’s a special whiskey for pointy snouted dogs) while reading a dog magazine. Now an older, more distinguished gentlemen, he was once a good friend of Brutus and they had gone through many escapades together and visited each others homes on several occasions.

Pippin and Brutus – pic taken the day that Rocky died
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Pippin jumped as his phone rang. Being head of the Iggy club, he had a direct line to Rainbow Bridge and was always the first to be told when dogs had crossed over.

“Hello, Pippin speaking.” He answered in his posh clipped English accent – I always said that he could announce the war with his voice. He dabbed his pointy snout with his handkerchief and was about to take a sip of his drink.

“I see, Yes I shall let the others know….” Pippin said quietly and then ended the call. Then wiping his eyes, he started to compose a text message to the Iggy gang which simply read, ‘The Goodest Boy has landed’.

Kevin

It was a few days after that Brutus had gone to Rainbow Bridge and Kevin had been showing signs of distress.His veterinary behaviourist had advised to let Kevin see Brutus’s body afterwards which is what we did.

Initially he didn’t show any interest but after about ten minutes, he cuddled up to his brother and remained there until the vet took him away.

We were also advised to leave the blanket, collar and toys for Kevin. Unfortunately in hindsight, we removed them too soon and Kev got so upset that he attacked myself and my husband so they were quickly reinstated on the sofa.

One particular evening, Kevin was in the living room watching out of the window. The Mitzi was parked in its usual place in the carport. The kennel and bed outside had been turned round to face the wall and the box of toys placed next to it. The garden had an eerie silence about it and it was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, Brutus would be joyously running around the car to greet his human Dad.

“There is no-one to run around the Mitzi anymore. I would love to see one last run around the Mitzi” Kevin said to nobody in particular. He was lonely, so very lonely and wasn’t doing so well as an only pet.

“Wanna bet?” A voice sounded from outside.

“Who said that?” Kevin startled. Then he heard the sounds of nails scraping outside in the garden and noises of panting from exertion.

Straining his eyes to look through the door, he saw Brutus running around the Mitzi while Rocky the kelpie chased him.

Rocky and Brutus
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“What’s that noise I can hear?” His Mum asked him as she placed a cup of tea down on the table. Pulling the blinds aside, she looked out of the window and unable to see anything, she sat down on the sofa.

“Just another run around the Mitzi.” Kevin laughed to himself then as he turned round to look out of the window again, he saw that Brutus and Rocky were no longer there.

The Latest on Kevin

Kevin is slowly getting better. He initially retreated to his room, his aggression ramped up and his separation anxiety was and still is pretty severe. We have seen him on the security camera pacing around the living room, meowing and showing signs of distress. My neighbour brings her little dog to the house to play with him which is doing wonders for his confidence.

As for the humans Brutus left behind

There is a huge Brutus sized gap in our lives and home where he once was and if I thought that I cried heaps over Rocky, well my grief at losing Brutus was on another level.

I guess I just didn’t see it coming really. He was 9.5 years old, a fit and athletic dog and we just thought it was the start of arthritis and certainly not bone cancer.

I do take comfort in the fact that we didn’t let him suffer and he had a pain free and dignified ending with his family at home and being fed up until he was sedated (sedation given before his final injection). I am even more grateful for the way that he looked at me before he went to sleep and gave my face a good lick – that is a precious memory I will keep forever.

I have often asked myself why we put ourselves through this when the loss of a pet is so painful. Would I have changed anything if I could turn the clock back? Well the answer is no, absolutely not.

Because Brutus led me to meet some fantastic people and their Iggies at the Italian Greyhound Club. If it wasn’t for Brutus, I would not have met Cathy from CJ Animal Rescue – who is one of the most incredible women I have met. I would not have moved to my current house and met my neighbour and friend Lexie and her dog Vader the boxer who was Brutus’s best friend. And if I hadn’t have met Vader, I would never have written and published my book ‘Planet Iggy’.

Brutus took me on the most wonderful journey of pet ownership. He was such a kind, gentle and funny dog and he didn’t have a mean bone in his body and I was so lucky to have been his owner. My husband and I were pretty grateful that we were the last people that Brutus saw, heard, smelt and felt as he left us, surrounded by his favourite toys and veterinary staff.

Dedicated to Brutus – the Goodest Boy in the Land – thank you for being our dog.

Brutus – The Goodest Boy in the Land
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright February 2023

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Dr Lucy and Nurse Christine and the staff from Spearwood Veterinary Hospital for their professionalism and kindness that they have consistently shown to us and our pets. I would also like to thank Cath from CJ Animal Rescue – just for everything really.

And everyone else that supported us during that time including our Facebook and Insta supporters – too many to mention really but they know who they are.

Finally – I would like to acknowledge the fantastic work that Beyond Blue Australia do. The 20 minute telephone counselling sessions can make a huge difference when you are feeling overwhelmed with grief.

Boxers, Flappy Jowls and Canine Friendships

Posted on March 15, 2022 by Samantha Rose

Vader and Brutus, a prime example of a good friendship between dogs – Photograph by Samantha Rose

For those of you that have been following my stories, will know that Vader the boxer and my dog Brutus have pretty much grown up together and have been best friends right from the start. The things that these boys have got up to have been nothing short of entertaining and on occasions, embarrassing – involving snot, farts, belches and lots of mutual humping of each others heads.

Vader like many boxers, is often misunderstood by other breeds of dog and because of his snub nose and noisy breathing, he can sound pretty aggressive when in fact he just wants to play. Except for when he doesn’t want to play and he wants to start a fight instead, totally forgetting that because he doesn’t have much of a ‘face’, he can’t even defend himself when the dog that he is winding up; retaliates.

He has often called other dogs ‘Wankers’ and other such insults and Brutus being the coward that he is, would frequently pretend to be blind, deaf, elderly or just hide behind a tree so that he wouldn’t get beaten up. Of course when they were in the basketball courts in our local park, it was ‘game-on’ because both boys were safe in the knowledge that no other dog could get to them.

This usually ended up with the boys doing some fence-fighting which is actually a favourite hobby for many dogs – it involves dogs from both sides of the enclosure, running up and down the fence and threatening each other while yelling stuff about their mothers being a mongrel with no collar from the streets.

Fence Fighting – you can be as brave as you like when the other dogs can’t get to you Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus’s second birthday party with Vader – Photograph by Samantha Rose

Whenever the dogs had time apart or didn’t see each other for a while, Brutus liked to sit right next to the dividing fence where he would find some kind of comfort when he heard his flappy jowled friend snorting or barking from his garden. I have many pictures of Brutus sitting by the fence like a stalker, the photo below is just one of them.

Pic taken a few years back now but this is Brutus sitting by the fence because he could hear Vader – Photograph by Samantha Rose

And then they got old….

The years went by, life happened, COVID and lockdown happened and they didn’t see each other as often as they once did. But on Brutus’s 9th birthday last year, Vader was invited over to our house to celebrate Brutus’s birthday party. Well I say birthday party, it was a party for two because Vader and Brutus didn’t need anyone else as a third dog would have just messed up the dynamics.

Brutus and Vader at Brutus’s 9th birthday party in Nov 2021 – Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus had been ready for Vader’s arrival for ages. He had checked himself in the mirror three times, smoothed down his grey muzzle and had tried to put black shoe polish on his face to make himself look younger. Once he had heard me bring Vader through the garage door and into the back garden, Brutus impatiently wagged his tail and started doing his high pitched squeals that he has never grown out of doing when he gets excited.

“Vader!” Brutus grinned and went to body slam his old friend as he hadn’t seen him for a long time. “Wanna pee on my head?……” Brutus’s voice trailed off as he saw his mate limp slowly over to him and acknowledge him with a feeble wag of his tail.

“What’s happened to you?” Brutus barked in shock and double checked that it was the same Vader – his oldest and ‘bestest’ friend in the world.

“Old age and illness, that’s what!” Vader puffed and then suddenly looking confused, he said “Where am I?” before slowly walking over to the grass to have a crap.

Brutus laughed, “What do you mean? You know where you are! You are funny Vader, I have missed you. Fancy a game of chase on the limestone wall for old times sake?”

“What’s that over there?” Vader growled at some leaves in the corner.

Brutus frowned, “Are you OK?” At 9 years old himself, he was no spring chicken but he still could run fast, jump and pull magpies out of trees (yes, that was not his finest moment).

Vader looked up and grinned, “I am OK, let’s play!” But as soon as he had said it, he took a deep breath and then cocked his head to the side. “Where am I again?” He muttered at no-one in particular, “Oh look – there’s some poo on the grass, is that mine? It’s massive!”

Desperate to play with his friend, Brutus kept nudging him to react.

But Vader just stood over the water bowl by the garden tap gulping down some water, only occasionally looking up at a crestfallen Brutus who simply could not understand why Vader didn’t want to play with him.

Vader – Photo taken November 2021 – Photograph by Samantha Rose

“Hey do you remember when we did a fence fight with those two husky dogs and they threatened to eat us?” Brutus barked excitedly. Vader said nothing, his cloudy eyes stared vacantly up at the sky.

Brutus tried to think of happy memories to tell Vader to try and make him remember things. “Do you remember when we got arrested with a violent gang of whippets and taken to the police station for robbing the pet store?” He said desperately. This wasn’t going the way he had planned, Vader was behaving so oddly that Brutus didn’t know what to make of it.

“That didn’t happen, did it?” Vader suddenly piped up, momentarily remembering where he was.

Shrugging, Brutus said that no, perhaps it didn’t, but it would have been fun had it really happened. He was clutching at straws now, wanting to have the Vader back that he knew and loved.

I could see how frustrated Brutus was. He kept nudging him, pawing him, gifting him his fluffy snake and when that didn’t work, he brought out the rubber pig – he never brings out the rubber pig.

Vader’s breathing was strained as he bent down, had another big drink and then stared up at the sky as he once again had checked out of reality while the water dribbled out of his mouth. Brutus was quick to wash Vader’s face as he always had done in the past. The two boys would often clean each others faces and enjoyed doing so as well.

A good jowl cleaning for Vader – Photograph by Samantha Rose

And once Brutus realised that Vader wasn’t well and not up to playing, there was no consoling him as he barked frantically and circled the grizzled elderly boxer dog. In the end he was so upset that I had to put him inside and take Vader back home.

14th December 2021

Brutus was in the garden laying on his bed. The sun had warmed him up quite nicely and he was enjoying reading his favourite dog magazine ‘Naughty Whippets with No Collars’. He was about to turn the page when he heard a husky voice say “Hey Brutus, are you there?”

That was Vader! He must be feeling better Brutus thought. He felt immense relief just to hear Vader’s voice. Maybe he could come round for another playdate?

“Are you OK?” Brutus whispered through the gap in the dividing fence. If he squinted, he could just make out Vader’s cloudy eyes staring back at him,

“I’ve just farted.” Vader snorted and then after a few minutes straining, Vader pushed out another loud fart, causing Brutus to laugh and let out a fart as well. And just for a few minutes, things were back to normal and the worries about Vader’s confusion and sickness were forgotten as the boys enjoyed some ‘toilet humour’.

“You have been my best friend you know, you do realise that don’t you?” Vader barked. It wasn’t a strong bark, but it was his unmistakable ‘rusty dog bark’ that was unique to him.

“Yes and you are mine as well. You were there for me when Rocky died and Gordon the cat too. Mates for life that’s what we are. When you are better you can come round to my house and shit in my garden just like the old times!” Brutus said happily.

Taking a big breath, Vader said, “Well – that’s what I want to talk to you about, while I can still remember who I am of course………”

Later that day

“Brutus, dinner time!” I said to him. Normally he does his own little happy dance at meal times which involves him dancing from paw to paw and throwing in a couple of twirls and some bounces because he gets so excited.

But this time he took his time and walked slowly towards the living room door and ate his dinner before jumping up on to the sofa where he remained for several hours until I had to force him out for his bedtime pee.

His brother Kevin (the bastard) usually takes immense pleasure in winding Brutus up and bullying him from his prime position on the sofa but as though sensing something was up, Kevin sat quietly next to Brutus while just occasionally looking at him to see if he was OK. No words were said between the two of them, but Brutus appeared to be grateful for the little ginger cats company.

15th December 2021

Vader was sitting by the door in his house. He had forgotten where he was again but thought that if he stayed by the door and stared at his human siblings, it might help him remember stuff like who he is and what his purpose is. He loved his human siblings so much – mainly because they fed him their leftovers, but they were his family and he was very protective of them.

Vader does have three cats and a little dog sister called Trixie that he lives with – he loved them of course but not as much as his tiny humans. Even in his moments of confusion there is one thing that always remained constant and that was he knew that his tiny humans needed him and he loved them right back.

He saw both children eating their breakfast and wondered what kind of adults they would grow in to and how many dogs they might have in their lives after he had gone. “Who am I? What should I do?” Vader whispered and then looked up at his Mum Lexie for the answers before silently pleading with her, “Help me, I am done here.”

6:33am – I had not long woken up and was getting ready for work. I heard my phone beep and saw that it was a message from Lexie letting me know that she was sending Vader to Rainbow Bridge that morning and if I wanted to come and say goodbye then I was welcome to go round.

I just pulled on some clothes and as I was about to rush out of the door, I looked at Brutus who was curled up on his bed staring right back at me. He knew where I was going, I just know that he knew.

“He might not know who you are, he is pretty confused.” Lexie said to prepare me. But as soon as Vader heard my voice, he took some unsteady steps to come and greet me.

“Well good morning! It’s a lovely day to be going to Rainbow Bridge don’t you think?” Vader said happily. He looked so old and tired. I allowed myself to imagine his arrival at Rainbow Bridge and how he would be received and who would greet him – maybe even my Rocky dog. Then turning round to Lexie, I started to cry.

“Don’t be sad, I’m not!” Vader smiled and pressed himself into my legs and allowed me to pet him.

“Goodbye old boy, it’s your time now.” I said quietly. Then hugging Lexie, I walked to the front door leaving Vader saying, “Where am I? Am I there yet?”

Rainbow Bridge

Bowie the big white greyhound – otherwise known as ‘The Gatekeeper’ of Rainbow Bridge, sat by the gates with his clipboard while chewing on his pen. “Rex, we have one more coming and then we can knock off!” Bowie spoke in a posh accent and looked down to where Rex was standing.

Rex the Jack Russell, nodded and smartened himself up for the final arrival. He wore a tweed peaked cap on his little head, his tan and white coat glistened in the sun and his blue leather studded collar completed the image. He looked the perfect advert for a healthy dog.

Glancing at a couple of clouds, Rex couldn’t see any signs of the new arrival. But as with all animals that enter Rainbow Bridge, they are often heard long before they are seen and this one was no different.

“Where am I? Am I there yet? What’s my name?” An old croaky voice could be heard from behind the clouds.

“You will find out, just follow me – it’s just behind this big cloud on the left.” A kind and patient voice could be heard talking back to the croaky voice. “Oh Lord, was that you?” The voice coughed and gagged as a loud fart sounded from behind the clouds.

“That wasn’t from my bum!” The croaky voice replied, “What’s my name?”

Rex and Bowie fell silent as the clouds parted and an old boxer dog limped up to the gate followed by a beautiful cream Saluki guiding him. With each step, he farted, laughed and asked where he was and who he was and just who had made that smell.

“Hello, mate – I don’t suppose you know where I am do you or even who I am. I am buggered if I know!” The old dog asked Bowie.

Bowie smiled, “Your name is Vader the boxer – Welcome to Rainbow Bridge. Rex, can you take him through please?”

“Follow me lad.” Rex said in a strong Yorkshire accent. He added, “If we get a move on, you can join in the games on the grass and I believe there are lots of treats, dog beer and sausages for afterwards.”

Vader looked at the dogs having fun in the distance. Some where chasing balls, some were digging holes, others were chasing butterflies and a cheeky young Schnauzer was running along the field with a string of sausages in his mouth while shouting ‘Catch me if you can!’

Cat’s lounged in trees and on benches, some chased rabbits – but never caught them, some bicycled furiously with their hind legs while kicking toys and some just enjoyed being where they were and living in the moment.

It really was a spectacular scene, peaceful, harmonious with each animal comfortable in the company of the others.

“Oh I don’t think I can do that, I am breathless and my joints hurt and I haven’t felt like eating properly in a while.” Vader apologised.

Rex laughed, “Trust me me lad, you are going to be just fine….”

As Vader walked with Rex through the gates to the other side, he found that he could breathe a little easier, walk with less pain and with each step that he took, he became younger and fitter as though he had never been sick. He carried on farting of course, but then some things never change do they?

A little black kelpie had stopped playing with his tennis ball and had started to walk towards Vader. It was Rocky – my dog who had gone to Rainbow Bridge in September 2018.

My Rocky dog – Photograph by Samantha Rose

Let me explain about Rocky and Vader. There was never any love lost between them and they would regularly bark, growl and trade insults from either side of the fence.

They marginally tolerated each other on walks although Rocky did go for a dog that went to attack Vader on the beach one day. So there must have been some low level friendship there. Rocky would go mad just hearing Vader snorting and Vader used to wind Rocky up a treat by fence snuffling or pissing up our gate causing Rocky to bristle with disapproval.

It took a few seconds for Vader to notice Rocky who like every animal at Rainbow Bridge, was young, fit and healthy.

The two dogs squared up to each other and held direct eye contact. Tails erect, body posture stiff as they sniffed the air around them.

“Ey up Bowie, I think it might kick off over here with the boxer and the kelpie!” Rex said to Bowie on his mobile (yes they have special doggy mobiles at Rainbow Bridge).

“No they won’t.” Bowie said confidently, “They will find their dynamic – just leave them.”

“Are you sure?” Rex asked in a concerned voice.

“Absolutely.” Bowie replied and ended the call.

“Vader!” Rocky said without taking his eyes off him.

“Rocky!” Vader barked right back.

The two dogs gave each other a couple of shoves – as if testing their strength while Rex nervously watched on, still clutching his mobile phone.

Then as quickly as it started, the shoving stopped and both dogs started to play-bow to each other with their tails wagging high. They pranced, jumped and played together for a few minutes before Rocky said, “Fancy chasing some rabbits?”

As they walked off leaving a relieved Rex to report back to Bowie the greyhound, Rocky could be heard saying, “I never really hated you Vader.”

“I never hated you either, in fact I missed you when you left…” Vader admitted.

“Friends?” Rocky declared.

“Friends!” Vader barked back, “Now let’s go and chase some rabbits!”

Brutus

A couple of hours after Vader had left, Brutus dutifully took position by the dividing fence where once he realised that Vader was no longer there, he proceeded to cry for quite some time.

“Brutus?” Kevin asked him later that evening.

“Yes Kevin,” he sighed.

“Rainbow Bridge must be a pretty cool place to be.” Kevin said matter-of-factly.

“What makes you say that?” Brutus said sadly.

“Because we all go there eventually!” Kevin replied cheerfully and started to wash his bum.

And although Brutus was upset at losing his best friend, he knew that Kevin was right.

Kevin gives Brutus his words of wisdom – Photograph by Samantha Rose

The End

Dedicated to Vader the boxer

This special dog found a way into my heart the very first time that I met him. Brutus and I would call round to Lexie’s for our evening walks and the boys would come back exhausted from their escapades.

They were also regulars on the lure coursing field at Guildford Polo Grounds. They never won of course, they were too busy play fighting on the field to win anything. Vader’s jowls flapping in the breeze like inflated shopping bags as he ran. While Brutus thought that everyone was there just to cheer him on. It kind of became a highlight if anyone managed to get a photograph of them.

Brutus and Vader lure coursing – well trying to. Photograph by Studio Joy

I could always hear Vader before I could see him, his snuffle breathing, snorting and his farting. We had a standing joke that when he came to my house, he would do at least four shits in my garden. Lexie would even send him over with a supply of poo bags. I never knew how one dog could hold so much turd and save it up for my garden, I could imagine Brutus proudly cheering him on while doing it.

Vader didn’t like men, he was nervous of them. We would laugh at him barking and growling at my husband who was minding his own business in the living room. Vader would be in our garden, wiping his snotty nose on our window thinking that he owned the place – he did really, well at least in his eyes.

Anyway, I have only just been able to write this blog and even then I have cried while writing it. In case you didn’t know, Vader was actually in my book ‘Planet Iggy’. he inspired me to write so many chapters and played starring roles in some of the short stories.

I honestly believe that had I not met Vader and Lexie, I would never have met the Italian greyhounds and their lovely owners. Which means that I would never have written Planet Iggy either, as Vader’s antics with Brutus fired up my imagination in such a way that it made me look forward to escaping into my own magical little world of talking dogs.

This blog is dedicated to Vader the boxer – the Goodest Boy in the Land

Vader the Good Boy – Photograph by Samantha Rose

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright March 2022

Petunia – Run Free and Climb High

Posted on December 23, 2020 by Samantha Rose

Petunia the Persian has been through some pretty serious health struggles in her short life and had managed to beat a horrible disease called FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis) and everyone was so proud of her for doing so.

Her humans had bought her a wonderful cat tree and Petunia had been learning to jump to the top. Not blessed with the agility and fitness that most cats have, even getting to the top of her tree was a huge achievement even if it did take her several attempts to do it.

Petunia had a long-distance boyfriend which is my cat Kevin. Kevin had been obsessed with the beautiful little Persian cat and had taken to calling and messaging her every day to see how she was going. And before you laugh, yes – cats can do stuff like that and have active social lives like anyone else. You just have to believe in it, that’s all because once you start believing in your animals, anything is possible – just you ask my Kevin.

Anyway, one day Petunia hadn’t been feeling very well and had been suffering from breathlessness. She had been on the phone to her mates in WA and had told Oliver (the CEO of Raw Meow) all about it.

Oliver – the CEO of Raw Meow. He just knows stuff and is an educated cat Photograph by Emax Photography

“You do know you need to go and see the vet don’t you Petunia?” Oliver said firmly and then added, “And you need to do this quickly.” Oliver is always the voice of reason and he just seems to know about stuff.

Petunia sighed and replied that a vet appointment had already been made by her human for later that day.

“Look, I had better go Oliver, I need to call Kevin and let him know.” Petunia sounded breathless.

“Ah yes, Kevin – good idea.” Oliver replied.

And as Petunia ended the call, she composed herself and found Kevin’s number on her mobile. A picture of Petunia and Kevin flashed up under his name. It was taken last Christmas when Kevin had a party at his house and Petunia had ended up joining them.

At Kevin’s House

Kevin and his canine brother Brutus were playing a game of cards. Kevin being a dab hand at card games, always manages to beat Brutus which makes Brutus cry and demand a rematch which of course he never wins.

Brutus is no ‘card shark’ Photograph by Samantha Rose

“It’s your hand big fella but if you could hurry up because I know I am going to win so we may as well get it over with!” Kevin smirked at Brutus who was wearing a baseball cap back to front and a satin waistcoat. The silly dog had been told by his boxer friend Vader, that all serious gamblers wore satin waistcoats and baseball caps back to front and Brutus believed him as well.

Before Kevin had chance to say anything else, his mobile phone rang. Glancing down, he saw Petunia’s picture flash up on his phone.

“Petunia! How are you?” Kevin dropped the cards on the table and gestured to Brutus that the game was over leaving Brutus looking confused and asking if that meant that he had won. Brutus isn’t the smartest of dogs as you may have gathered but he does have a huge kind heart and that’s what counts.

Kevin’s grumpy voice softened when he spoke to Petunia, it always did because he liked her and even his friends Tuxedo Cat, Teddy and Oliver would laugh at him about it.

But whatever Petunia was saying to him, it certainly wasn’t making Kevin smile, in fact it was quite the opposite.

“You will be OK, won’t you Petunia?” Kevin stuttered down the phone. “Promise to let me know what happens?”

“Everything OK?” Brutus asked Kevin when he had finished on the phone.

“I hope so, I don’t know actually, I have a funny feeling.” Kevin frowned. Funny feelings are not alien to him as he is an anxious cat and gets upset at most things, but this feeling was different and Kevin didn’t like it one bit.

“Let’s take your mind off it. What do you fancy doing?” Brutus asked him.

“Can you just sit with me and we watch the birds for a bit?” Kevin said as he puffed air out of his cheeks.

“Sounds good to me.” Brutus replied simply and the two of them sat at the dining room window and watched a gang of raucous parrots have a parrot meeting in the palm tree outside.

Brutus and Kevin, Photograph by Samantha Rose

Petunia

Petunia had arrived at the vet and her breathing had deteriorated and the vet had told her humans that she had fluid on her heart. It was decided that she would stay in the vet hospital overnight to keep an eye on her.

With nothing but her thoughts for company, Petunia didn’t even have the energy to call Oliver or Kevin to let them know how she was. She hoped they would understand, she was sure that they would.

As she lay in her hospital cage, Petunia heard a little cough which made her startle. Looking up she saw a handsome ginger cat with a white bow tie on around his neck. He sat on a trolley outside Petunia’s cage and appeared to be making notes on a notepad.

“Excuse me, but who are you?” Petunia asked him politely.

“The name is Gordon and I have come to see if you are ready, you must be Petunia?” The cat smiled warmly and continued to write things down on the notepad.

“Ready? What for? I don’t understand?” Petunia frowned. Then as though it was all too much for her, she started coughing and couldn’t get her breath.

“Hmm, that’s not good. You certainly sound and look as though you are ready!” Gordon nodded approvingly, “Shall we go now? Come on, time is ticking!”

“Go where? I can’t go anywhere. I am poorly and my human will be seeing me tomorrow and I can’t possibly miss that!” Petunia said with a husky meow as she tried to take a deep breath.

Gordon looked at Petunia’s hospital cage and as if by magic, the door opened all by itself. The big handsome ginger cat winked at Petunia, “Trust me – come on and hold my paw, nothing to be afraid of, I promise!”

As a frail and weakened Petunia stood up with the help of Gordon, she touched his paw as he had requested. Looking at Gordon for further reassurance, Petunia felt herself go dizzy and the last thing she remembered, was Gordon saying “Come along, that’s my girl!”

The New Arrival

A large white greyhound stood at some huge iron gates. He looked jolly important as he checked a list on his clipboard. He wore a bright purple leather and velvet collar with a brass name tag attached to the collar with ‘Bowie’ engraved on it.

A handsome young tabby cat with a white vest and four white socks, weaved in and out of the greyhound’s long legs, occasionally rubbing his head on him. With his tail held high in the air twitching, the cat kept kneading the grass with his front paws as though he were making biscuits.

“Are there many left to come?” The tabby cat asked Bowie the greyhound.

Bowie smiled, “Just one left. The others came this morning. You can go and tell everyone to get ready for the last one if you don’t mind?”

The tabby gave a paws-up gesture and ran through the gates to do his favourite part of the job – announce all the new arrivals.

Bowie yawned and did one of those greyhound stretches which looks like a play-bow when they stick their bums in the air. Letting out a quick and unexpected fart, Bowie coughed “Excuse me!” and quickly checked to see that nobody had heard him.

Suddenly he could hear the sounds of someone arriving. Composing himself, he stood up and straightened his collar and made sure that he was neat and tidy.

“Hi Bowie, this is Petunia. She is the final one due in today!” Gordon gave Bowie a friendly head-boop to greet him.

“I don’t understand, where am I?” Petunia cried as she leaned on to Gordon for support.

Taking a deep breath, Bowie bent down so that the little cat could see him better. “Hello Petunia, welcome to Rainbow Bridge. My name is Bowie the greyhound and I am the gatekeeper of The Bridge.”

“I am at Rainbow Bridge? But what about my human’s? What about my friends and Kevin?” Petunia cried.

It took a few minutes for Bowie and Gordon to explain to her that her body had run out of time and it was no longer possible for her spirit to live in it. He explained how we all have a certain amount of time with our humans – it may or may not be for as long as we would like, but whatever the amount of time spent with them, is precious and always for a good reason.

But when it is time to go to Rainbow Bridge, that is when you leave all your pain and illness behind and get a new lease of life. A life where you can eat what you like, chase birds and butterflies yet never hurt them. A life where nothing hurts ever again and occasionally, you can take a peak to see what your beloved humans are doing and be able to keep an eye on them until the next pet arrives.

“Do you understand Petunia?” Bowie asked her gently.

“I think so….” Petunia sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“Right then, ready to go through the gates?” Gordon asked her.

“I can’t breathe very well, I not sure if I can to be honest.” Petunia sounded doubtful.

“Try it, you might surprise yourself. I know I did when I went through myself a few years back!” Gordon encouraged her.

Petunia mustered up all of her energy and with a little help from Bowie’s super long greyhound snout, she managed to get up as Gordon and Bowie helped her to get through the gates.

Once she had passed through them, she gasped at what she saw. Cats everywhere, playing with toys, climbing on trees, running through tunnels, chasing rabbits and butterflies and having the time of their lives. It really did look beautiful and the temptation to investigate was almost too strong for Petunia to resist.

“What do I tell Kevin? He won’t understand why I haven’t come back. I know the vet will tell my human, but who tells Kevin?” Petunia panicked.

“You leave Kevin to me, I can sort him out!” Gordon gave a firm nod, “Now go and meet your new friends, it looks like they are waiting for you to join them for dinner.”

Petunia watched as the group of cats smiled at her and pointed to an abundance of delicious food including sardines, pilchards, salmon, prawns and steak. She had never seen so much food in all her life.

“Are you sure I can do it? Will I be OK?” Petunia asked him.

“Positive and you will be just fine!” Gordon replied and watched Petunia slowly start to walk to where the cats were waiting for her and with each step she took, her breathing got better until not being able to breath, was merely a distant memory.

“Are we done for the day?” Bowie asked Gordon.

“Not quite, I have a quick visit to make. Save me some prawns – I’ll be back shortly.” Gordon said and gave a mock salute to Bowie before disappearing.

While Bowie shut the gates for the evening, Petunia played with her new friends. There was no shortness of breath, no pain or low energy and for the first time in her life, she could not only jump high but she could climb to the top of the tallest tree with the agility of a cheetah.

Kevin

Kevin was in his bedroom. He had felt unsettled since hearing that Petunia was unwell and when he felt like that, he was just best with his own company.

Curled up on the top of his cat tree, he stared out of the window trying to think about what to do. It was an awful feeling of being helpless and even his friend Oliver couldn’t placate him.

Kevin sighed and blinked a few times and yawned. Then opening his eyes, he saw something that nearly caused him to fall off his cat tree as he noticed a big ginger cat sat in his basket like he owned it.

“How the bloody hell did you get in here? Who are you?” Kevin shouted. He looked out of the window and saw Brutus chasing some magpies, “Brutus help me, there is a cat in my room!” Kevin screeched. Except that Brutus could not hear him or even realise that he was there and no matter how much Kevin scrabbled at the window, he seemed invisible to Brutus in the garden.

“You don’t remember me do you?” The ginger cat laughed and then picked up a tatty old blue crackle mouse from Kevin’s toy box. “This mouse was my favourite when I lived in here and this grey basket is just as comfy as I remember it!” Gordon started to noisily suckle on the old toy mouse and blissfully closed his eyes for a few minutes.

“But I don’t get it…..” Kevin cried, And that is MY mouse you are sucking on!”

Gordon suddenly remembered where he was and opened his eyes. Dropping the now soggy toy mouse on the floor, he explained to Kevin, “My name is Gordon and this was my house before it was yours and when I went to Rainbow Bridge, I guided you to this family because I knew you would be looked after. That is how it works you see, when a human loses one pet, that pet guides the next one and the right one into their lives.”

Kevin frowned but after a few minutes, he smiled in recognition, “Gordon – Oh my God, I remember you now! My humans spoke of you all the time. What are you doing here?” Kevin jumped off his cat tree on to the ground and sat opposite Gordon.

“I have a message for you and it’s about Petunia…”

Kevin started to cry as the realisation of why Gordon was here dawned on him. “No, I don’t want to hear it! I know what you are going to say, please don’t!” Shutting his eyes and shaking his head in protest, Kevin thought that if he stopped Gordon from saying it, then it hadn’t happened.

Gordon sat with Kevin for some time as he explained to the distraught cat about how Petunia had finished her time here with her humans and had to go for a new lease of health and life at Rainbow Bridge. He went on to tell Kevin how Petunia could now climb the highest of trees and eat all the fish and meat that she wanted. Because she had been through so much in her short life and being at such a marvellous place like Rainbow Bridge is what she deserved. And knowing all of that, made it a bit easier for Kevin to accept.

Kevin didn’t remember at what point Gordon left him and he didn’t remember falling asleep, nor how long he had been asleep for. But when he did wake up, he was in his grey basket. It was dark in his room and there was no evidence of Gordon ever having been there.

Opening his eyes and blinking a few times, he wondered if he had dreamt the whole thing.

Deciding that he was hungry and it was time for his tea, he got out of his basket and took a long stretch and as he did, he felt something wet underneath his paws. “Ugh, did I vomit and not realise it?” Kevin looked down to see what he had trodden in and saw that it was the blue mouse that Gordon had removed from the toy box and had been suckling on earlier.

“It was real, I didn’t imagine it after all!” Kevin thought to himself, then left his room to find Brutus.

Rainbow Bridge

A beautiful white Persian was holding court to a group of cats. Curled up under a tree in various positions, the cats all chatted and helped themselves to the picnic of fish and steak on the sharing plate on the grass. A small kitten bicycled furiously with his hind legs on a toy rabbit while another chased his tail in between eating small pieces of steak.

“Tell us again Petunia about how your humans loved you so much?” An elderly Maine Coon asked her as the other cats clapped their paws together in excitement.

And so Petunia began to tell them the stories of her humans, her life, her friends and about her boyfriend – a ginger cat called Kevin.

The End

Petunia – her time here was short but she left a big impression and many happy memories for her human Photograph by Julia Sowula

Dedicated to Petunia – a small cat with a huge character

Published with the kind permission of Petunia’s human – Julia Sowula

Samantha Rose – Copyright (C) December 2020

A Dog Called Dash

Posted on October 7, 2020 by Samantha Rose

This story is about Dash the Italian greyhound. Dash was one of the characters in my book Planet Iggy and his real life naughtiness and escapades have kept his humans on their toes and the vets busy.

A very special little dog deserving of this tribute.

At Dash’s house

Dash and his brother Augie were at home. Augie was lying on his back playing on his mobile phone. He was obsessed with the ‘who’s who on the show circuit’ page, he enjoyed checking out which dogs were doing well and who had the biggest testicles. It made him miss the days when he had a splendid set of gonads himself – those were the glory days!

“I say Dash, have you seen this Iggy, he is pretty new to the circuit?” Augie asked him without even looking up.

Dash didn’t reply, he was busy gazing out of the window. He could just see the BBQ outside and it reminded him of all the times that he had stolen food from it – something he was pretty proud of. Had food theft been an Olympic sport then he would have surely won a Gold.

He hadn’t been well for a while and had been diagnosed with a serious liver issue that he knew would not allow him to live as long a life as a healthy dog. Although he wanted to have a full life with his humans, he knew it wasn’t possible and he was just waiting for the right time to leave them.

His humans had been warned that he may have to go to Rainbow Bridge at any point. It didn’t make it easier mind you, but they did understand and were trying to make each day with Dash count.

“Dash, I am talking to you!” Augie nudged him with his pointy snout.

Giving his head a little shake, Dash turned around and gave Augie a tired smile. “Sorry Augie, what you were saying?”

Augie frowned, his little face looked troubled, probably not helped by him having more grey hairs than Dash, who simply refused to age in both appearance and attitude. “Oh, never mind, it doesn’t matter. Are you OK Dash?” Sitting up, Augie picked up his drink and took a mouthful and dabbed his snout with his handkerchief to remove the coffee froth.

“Sort of, I will be….” He replied simply and then added, “Hey, do you remember the time I sneaked into the kitchen of the dog café when nobody was looking?”

Augie snorted his Dog-o-Cinno coffee through his nostrils. “Do I remember? How could I forget! Do you remember the tomato incident, nobody could believe it!”

“Oh my days! That was talked about for ages afterwards.” Dash laughed.

“Talked about until this very day and will be forever more I reckon.” Augie added.

“I remember how we used to stand on Brutus’s back so that we could reach the café table and steal the food!” Augie wiped his eyes as he roared with laughter. “Dear old Brutus, such a good boy for letting us use him as a ladder.”

“Actually Dash, isn’t there a photo somewhere of you and Brutus getting cosy together at Chewie’s birthday at the dog cafe?”

Dash cocked his head to the side. “Might have been!” he said knowingly. “Photographic evidence is kicking around somewhere I do believe.”

Dash and Brutus – Photograph by Samantha Rose

“You haven’t had a boring life have you Dash?” Augie poked him playfully with his paw.

Dash grinned, “No, I most certainly haven’t and I have kept my humans on their toes that’s for sure!”.

“Dash?” Augie asked him quietly.

“Yes Augie?” Dash stared at his brother.

“Are you OK?” Augie asked him again. His eyes bulging, his ears flat back on his head, the tiny Iggy trembled as he asked Dash the question, because he kind of already knew the answer. He was just hoping by some miracle that he was wrong.

Taking a leap on to the sofa, Dash then gestured for Augie to sit next to him. “I need to have a chat….”

“I don’t want to hear it Dash, please don’t make me hear it, I am not ready to hear it!” Augie rushed his words out all at once and spoke so quickly that it was almost hard to understand him. But all the same, he jumped up and sat next to his brother to hear what he had to say.

Dash gently explained to Augie that it was now time for him to go, what was going to happen next and how he was relying on Augie to take charge of the family afterwards. He told him how he was a big brave boy and that he would be just fine.

“Dash?” Augie asked him after a few minutes.

“Yes Augie?” Dash replied.

“Are you scared?” Augie’s eyes stared intently at him.

“No Augie. We all have our time with our humans – be it a day, a week, years – whatever. But when it’s up, it’s up. Besides, I am tired of being unwell and if I can’t steal my human’s food with the stealth and professionalism that I am used to, then that means it’s my time”.

Augie huddled up to his brother. “Will you be able to steal food at Rainbow Bridge?”

“I bloody well hope so!” Dash growled and both dogs burst out laughing.

Later that day….

Bowie the large white greyhound and gatekeeper of Rainbow Bridge stood outside the entrance with his regulation clipboard and a chewed-up pen in the shape of a large bone. It was a bad habit chewing his pen and he knew that, but he still enjoyed doing it.

Bowie the Gatekeeper of Rainbow Bridge – Photograph by Fran Forbes

“Hi Bowie, who are we waiting for today?” An important looking Scottish terrier named ‘Bertie McTavish’ asked in his strong Scottish accent. He looked quite dapper wearing a red tartan collar with a whistle clipped to it, which he was not afraid to blow to regain any order should it all kick off with any newbies. Not that it ever did of course but Bertie did like that whistle and the power that it gave him – think about the policemen in the UK when they had whistles in the olden days and you will just about get the picture.

But nobody ever kicked off at Rainbow Bridge and aside from a bit of exuberance when reunited with old friends, there was never any trouble.

“Someone pretty special who is going to keep us all on our toes, that is all I can say.” Bowie gave a curt nod to Bertie.

Bertie who had seen it all before – or so he thought, sighed, “There isn’t anyone we can’t handle here and should anyone be naughty then I have this!” He pointed dramatically to the whistle clipped on his collar.

Bowie raised his eyebrows and smirked, “Are you sure about that?” But before he got chance to say anything else, he could hear a commotion of an incoming new resident.

It’s a great source of excitement for new animals coming to Rainbow Bridge; it’s like being given a new lease of life and getting reunited with old friends at the same time. They tend to make a bit of noise on arrival but it’s all high jinx because they are so happy to be there.

“Excuse me, but where is the food? I am bloody starving!” Dash suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They always do that on entry to ‘The Bridge’. They transition through and appear very quickly. It never fails to make Bertie startle and say ‘Now then, there will be none of that here!”

“Hello Dash old boy, how are you doing?” Bowie said affectionately.

Dash’s tail wagged furiously, so hard in fact that it smacked the Bertie in the face and made him sneeze. “I could murder a chocolate muffin my friend!” Dash grinned.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Bowie laughed, “Let me get someone to escort you through the gates. You are the only one coming in today.”

“Who is going to take me through, I can’t see anyone around, are you going to take me?” Dash asked Bertie.

Bertie shook his head, “Not me pal and I don’t want any funny business from you!” he said sternly and then catching Dash’s worried face, he gave the little black dog a cheeky wink to show he was joking.

“Come on my friend, follow me.” Bowie reassured him.

“Wait a second!” Dash shouted and quickly lifted his leg to pee on the gatepost. Bertie rolled his eyes at Bowie and muttered something about it being ‘highly inappropriate’ and should he blow his special whistle to control the situation?

Dash hesitantly walked through the gates to the other side when he was suddenly bowled over by another Italian greyhound. “Darling, you are here! I thought you would never arrive!”

He looked up and saw Madam Gigi looking absolutely gorgeous with a pair of oversized sunnies and an Italian silk scarf tied around her neck. The two Iggies hugged each other tightly, that was after Gigi had done the European thing of kissing the cheeks of course.

“Follow me, everyone is waiting for you! Fat Harry is eating everything in sight and it’s high time that you came to redress the balance!”

“It’s so good to finally be here Gigi. Tell me, do they have tomatoes where we are going?” Dash asked her.

“Tomatoes? Darling, there are more tomatoes than you would know what to do with!” Gigi barked at him and waved her front legs in the air – Pippin always said that if you cut off Madam Gigi’s front legs, she would be speechless.

The further he walked the more energetic he became and the better he felt until all evidence of pain and illness had vanished. Across the field, Dash could just make out the rotund figure of Fat Harry frantically waving his stuffed hamburger toy in the air to get his attention.

Nearby a black kelpie dog with an Australian neckerchief tied around his neck was sat on the grass reading a newspaper titled ‘The Kelpie Times’. He stopped reading and folded up his paper on his lap and glanced up. With his tail wagging slowly in recognition, he walked towards Fat Harry and said, “Is that who I think it is?”

“Yes Rocky, I think it is! – Isn’t it brilliant?” A huge grin appeared on Fat Harry’s face.

Rocky nodded, “Yes, it is absolutely marvellous. We all meet up here in the end, that’s what is so special about this place – there is no such thing as goodbye.”

“Is that it for today Bowie, shall I close the gates?” Bertie asked him.

Bowie looked on as little Dash was welcomed into the next level and final part of his life surrounded by his friends. “Yes, that’s it for today, close the gates. Oh, and Bertie?” Bowie asked him.

“Yes Bowie?” Bertie turned around to answer him.

“You can put your whistle away for today, maybe you can use it tomorrow?” Bowie winked at him leaving Bertie McTavish to reluctantly tuck his whistle under his collar for another day.

At Augie’s House

Augie was sat on his bed looking out of the window. He didn’t know how long he had been there for but it must have been a while. Dash’s bright red collar was on the coffee table and his toys were where he left them, Augie stared at them sadly and briefly wondered how he would manage without him. He would of course, but it would take time to adapt without Dash.

There was one more thing left to do and Augie had been putting it off. Taking a deep breath for bravery, he picked up his mobile phone and dialled Pippin’s number.

Pippin’s House

Pippin had been having a wonderful time lately. His sister Latte had recently had puppies and you all know how Pippin loves his puppies. One time both he and Brutus did some ‘doggy day care’ involving looking after Bronte’s puppies and it all ended in a flurry of talcum powder and diapers put on the wrong way – but that’s another story.

“Pippin, will you stop disturbing the babies!” Latte barked at him.

Pretending that he hadn’t heard, Pippin nudged the puppies with his pointy snout in the hope of waking them up so that he could justify a cuddle with them.

Pippin had actually grown quite distinguished as a senior dog and his grey fur had blended in quite nicely on his face. Unlike his friend Brutus who was looking pretty grizzled with age, but hey, we all get older right?

“Pippin, it’s for you?” Bronte handed him his mobile phone.

Looking boot-faced at being taken away from the pups, Pippin grabbed the phone from Bronte and took it into his office.

It all happens in Pippin’s office – good news, bad news, naughtiness, reprimands and everything in between. The large regal looking chair, the huge leather topped desk, a brown china pot with all of Pippin’s pens and pencils in it and his bright red lounge coat with golden trim, hanging up on the door. This office has seen it all and could tell a thousand stories about the Iggy gang and the life of Pippin.

Pippin sat in his chair clutching his phone and after a few minutes replied quietly, “Thank you, I will let the group know.”

Then as per tradition and the rules of the gang, Pippin sent a group text simply saying, “Dash has landed.”

A few hours later

Latte had just finished feeding her puppies. Pippin was standing behind her watching the babies trying to snuggle up to her.

“I shall miss Dash you know.” Latte said to Pippin, “Will you miss him?”

Pippin gave a little nod, “Yes, I shall miss him greatly. He was a character that’s for sure with all the naughty stuff he got up to.”

“What’s this tomato incident that everyone always talks about?” Latte asked him.

“OMG, Pippin you MUST tell her about that, please tell her – you tell it best!” Bronte barked excitedly.

A smile spread across Pippin’s face as he curled up next to Latte and Bronte and began telling the greatest story ever told about a dog café, a group of Italian greyhounds, a tomato and a little black dog called Dash.

The End

Our pets may not live forever but the memories of their antics and naughtiness will remain alive for as long as we tell their stories.

This blog is dedicated to Dash.

Written and published with the kind permission and blessing of Dash’s human Kylie.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright October 2020

Brutus and the Antique Dog Shop

Posted on August 9, 2020 by Samantha Rose

It’s been almost two years since my darling kelpie Rocky crossed over to Rainbow Bridge – 2 years on 9th September to be precise. I remember that day as though it were yesterday and never did I imagine that losing a pet would hurt that much, it were as though he took a piece of me with him.

Brutus took months and months to find himself after Rocky left before he realised that he could bark at the garbage truck with the best of them. He even learned how to swim in the ocean which is something that we never thought that he would do. Rocky was the swimmer, Brutus was the barker that would give accusing looks if he was made to go in the water. Now Brutus can swim like a fish, although his motive is to catch water birds but that is another story entirely.

So this story is dedicated to the memory of my Rocky dog because this is just what I can imagine him doing.

Sunday afternoon at Brutus’s house

It was a cold, wet and windy Sunday afternoon where most animals would be snuggled up inside their warm kennels or their homes. Kevin was curled up on his cat tree planning on what he would have for his tea. He spent a large part of his day thinking about food and this was a perfectly acceptable way to pass the time for him.

Brutus was standing by the dining room window. He was bored and rather fancied catching up with Vader and Pippin but he knew that they would be up to other things.
Turning round to Kevin, Brutus shouted “Catch you later, I am just going for a walk!” and before Kevin had chance to reply, Brutus had slammed the door and was trotting down the garden path. Kevin barely looked up, in fact I don’t even think that he heard him. “Yes, I am definitely looking forward to my roo meat tonight!” He mumbled to himself and noticing that he was already salivating, he quickly tried to clean the drool off his face with his paws.

Kevin – his life revolves around food. Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus didn’t need to go far to amuse himself. He stopped at the side of the road and checked for cars – just like his human had taught him. Straining his eyes to look at the park, he saw that there were no dogs or people there and it was completely empty.

Making his way to the small row of shops at the edge of the park, Brutus thought that perhaps if he checked the cafe out, he might be able to score a snack of some kind. And you can’t blame him for that as any self respecting dog would do the same.

Sighing, he saw that all the shops were closed – except for one and it was a shop that he had never noticed before. All the same, it was open and Brutus thought he would go and take a sticky beak to pass the time. ‘Antique Dog Toys’ Brutus read the sign on the outside of the shop out loud, “How strange, I wonder when this opened?” Then giving himself a good shake, he decided to go in and see what toys they had on offer.

As he walked in, a loud bell sounded to alert the owner. The shop smelled positively delicious to Brutus, it was a mix of cooked beef, bones, Schmackos dog treats and a touch of excitement. “Wow, where am I?” Brutus gasped and as curiosity got the better of him, he started checking out the shop in more detail.

Heaps of tennis balls, old stuffed toys, rope tugs, frisbees to name but a few, adorned the shelves. There was a shelf with an old cash register on top and a bowl of dog treats was placed next to it. On a lower shelf were old smelly bones that may well make a human look away in disgust, but to any dog – it was like the best thing for them to smell. And the older the bone, the better especially if it has been buried for months and then dug up. Just ask your own dog if you don’t believe me.

Brutus gasped when he noticed in the corner of the shop, was a bright red mini lamp post with a small picket white fence surrounding it in the corner of the shop – it was there for dogs to cock their leg if they chose to. Not Brutus though, he still squats like a female dog.

“How on earth did I not notice this shop before? All these old toys, do they belong to other dogs?” Brutus thought to himself. It was true, the toys didn’t look new at all, far from it. They looked chewed, played with, tatty and some might say, ‘well loved’.

Brutus was so engrossed in looking around this little shop, that he didn’t notice the owner sitting in a leather chair behind the counter. A little black kelpie dog sat on an antique leather chair from behind the counter. Wearing a tweed suit with gold half rimmed spectacles perched right on the edge of his snout, the look was complete with a large gold watch on a chain that was carefully placed in the inside pocket.

The kelpie studied Brutus noting his excitement to be in such a shop. His tail wagging furiously like the propellor of a helicopter, he managed to knock a few tennis balls off the shelf.
Feeling his jowls burn with embarrassment, Brutus frantically tried to grab some of the tennis balls in his mouth. Managing to pick up only two of them, he looked up to see the little kelpie peeking over the top of his gold rimmed spectacles and staring at him.

“Oh my days, no way, it can’t be! Is that you?” Brutus dropped the tennis balls out of his mouth letting them bounce on the floor of the shop.

“Hello Brutus!” The kelpie wagged his tail and jumped off his chair towards Brutus who had his tail tucked in between his legs because he was so overwhelmed.

“Rocky!” Brutus yelped and playfully nudged Rocky in recognition, “It is you! I knew you would come back for me!” As the two dogs greeted each other, their tails wagged so hard that they not only cleared all the tennis balls off the shelves, but managed to knock off a few stuffed toys as well.

“Come on my friend, we have some catching up to do!” Rocky said firmly.

“What if someone comes in and disturbs us?” Brutus frowned.

“They won’t, well they can’t actually.” Rocky replied.

Brutus pondered about asking further questions but didn’t. He had never needed to question Rocky because Rocky knew everything – he had been to Kelpie university you know.
As the storm picked up outside and the rain lashed against the windows of the shop, the two dogs chatted without barely stopping for breath. They didn’t even notice the weather outside because they were so engrossed in each other.

A short while later

“So what’s with all of these old toys? I don’t get it?” Brutus questioned Rocky.

“Well, when a pet crosses over to Rainbow Bridge, their spirit remains in their toys, furniture or anything that they may have loved, chewed or loved sleeping on. Take Kevin for instance.”

“I’d rather not, he is a right bastard!” Brutus muttered.

Rocky laughed and carried on talking. “Kevin is sleeping in that old grey plastic bed that Mum bought for their very first cat Bruno way back in 1995 I think it was.
“That catnip blue mouse with the leg chewed off, well the leg that I chewed off. That belonged to Mums other cat in England called Juniper and then it was handed down to Gordon.”

Brutus cocked his head to the side, “Yes, you are right. Mum has the box of toys that belonged to Gordon and she gave them to Kevin and some of those toys were way back from when they lived in England.”

“It’s not just toys Brutus, it can be anything that the animal loved. Take the food bowls that Mum brought over from England – they belonged to Bruno and Juniper. Gordon used them and now Kevin has them.” Rocky added.

“But what’s the connection with these toys in the shop?” Brutus repeated his question to

Rocky, “What IS this shop?” He pulled off his spectacles from his snout and fiddled with them for a few seconds. Then removing his silken red handkerchief from his pocket, he huffed on his glasses and set about cleaning them.

Once he had done that, he looked at Brutus and said matter-of-factly, “It’s a magic shop of memories because every toy in this store is just that – a memory. They have all belonged to a dog or cat that was loved and has now crossed to Rainbow Bridge.”

“Even the tennis balls?” Brutus questioned and looked at the tatty tennis balls scattered on the floor.

“Especially the tennis balls!” Rocky smiled and placed his spectacles back on the end of his snout.

About ten minutes later Brutus reluctantly stood up. “I guess I had better go home now, Mum will be worried about me.”

“Take care my friend and remember that those you love, never really leave you – we are always around somewhere and our memories appear when you least expect them to.” Rocky gave Brutus a friendly nudge. “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do!” Rocky said with a firm nod before jumping back on his leather chair and fiddling with the cash register.

“Goodbye Rocky and thank you!” Brutus smiled at him and walked out of the door. As the door shut behind him, Brutus realised that he had meant to ask Rocky if he would see him again. Turning round to go back in, Brutus was confused to see that the shop that he had just left, was actually nothing but a vacant building with ‘For Rent’ on the front and not the antique store that it was a few minutes ago.

Sounds of thunder rumbled in the distance and it had started to rain heavily again. Brutus shivered and looked at the shop before running home as fast as he could because he hated storms.

Back home

It was a cold and wet Brutus that arrived back home. His Mum hadn’t even noticed that he had gone and Kevin was fast asleep in his basket.

Brutus, always hated the cold weather – Photograph by Samantha Rose

After rubbing his soaking wet body on his blankets to dry himself, Brutus inspected the toy box outside under the pergola. There were dog tugs, tennis balls, Brutus’s old tatty flappy cat which no longer had any stuffing inside, there were cracked rubber dog tugs, old honking pigs without the squeak inside them and a few old scruffy Kong toys that were there before Brutus’s time and had belonged to Rocky as a pup.

Brutus startled as he heard a noise from behind him. Three tennis balls bounced randomly on the concrete – it were as though they had been thrown from the box.

The balls were tatty and fluffed up from where Rocky used to carry them around for hours on end. They had certainly seen better days that’s for sure. But you know what, they were still OK and had some life left in them.

As Brutus carefully picked up the tennis balls one by one, he placed them back in his toy box and went back inside.

The End

Every toy in your pets toy box tells a story and keeps the memory of the last pet that played with it, alive. Especially tennis balls, let’s not forget the tennis balls.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright August 2020

Always Room for a Little One

Posted on November 11, 2019 by Samantha Rose

Gigi the Italian greyhound – or Madam Gigi if you would like her proper title, had been feeling unwell due to her eating a bone. Being one for enjoying her food, whatever Gigi ate was no real surprise to anyone and you can just ask her human about the ‘lettuce’ incident at the Iggy Christmas party one year – honestly, that story is legendry.

Madam Gigi – taken after the ‘lettuce incident’ – photograph by Samantha Rose

She is a beautiful and glamourous dog with a very well-spoken and some might say, posh accent (In case you didn’t know, in my stories all animals can talk – you just have to believe it). Just imagine a wealthy lady with flowing scarves tied round her neck, speaking at least 32 languages, wearing huge over-sized sunnies smelling of gorgeous expensive perfume which leaves wafts of it wherever she walks. If you can imagine that then you can imagine Gigi.

Gigi’s brother – Rocco, now he is a different character altogether with a tendency to swear at random and inappropriate moments, fight with his invisible doggy friends (all dogs have invisible friends) and even attack his reflection in the mirror and bite his own hind legs for annoying him. Although Rocco may be scary on first impressions, once you get to know him he is an utter darling.

Rocco enjoying a cuddle off his lovely Mum – Photograph by Samantha Rose

One particular day, Gigi was curled up on the sofa because she wasn’t feeling too bright because the bone that she had eaten was causing her pain and it was decided that her human Mum would take her to the vet.

About twenty minutes before the appointment, Gigi slowly got up to get smarten herself up, even in her time of sickness, she didn’t let her appearance slip up and while she was waiting for her human to get everything ready, Gigi was powdering her snout and spraying herself with her favourite perfume ‘Dog Eau De Ca Turd’.

Rocco was busy washing his genitals and not taking much notice of Gigi. It was girl thing you see, and he knew that Gigi had to be perfect before she left the house and if she was going on a lunch date with Nica and Zara, oh my goodness it put a whole new meaning to the words ‘Girl Power’.

But this time something made him look at her, something made him stop right in his tracks and REALLY look at her. Cocking his head to one side, he studied his sister who in between smoothing her fur down, was grimacing with pain and discomfort. “Are you OK Gigi?” Rocco frowned, then noticing that she was putting on her most glamourous scarf that she only ever wears for special occasions, he swallowed a couple of times and gulped.

Gigi took a deep breath before turning to face him and patted the floor a couple of times to signal for him to come over to her.

“No! No, I don’t want to hear it!” Rocco’s voice stumbled as he fought back the tears. “That scarf, that scarf – you said it was for a special occasion and you have owned it for years and have never worn it until today!”

“Rocco, we need to chat darling, come here.” Gigi said calmly.

“No, I am not ready to come over, I am busy, no Gigi, don’t make me!” Rocco cried, but he knew he had to and usually nobody could make Rocco do anything that he didn’t want to do, but this time he knew that he had to go and sit by Gigi to hear what she had to say.

“Good lad!” Gigi smiled encouragingly, “Now, let’s have that chat…..”

As the two Italian greyhounds sat huddled up next to each other, Rocco listened to his sister talk while at the same time, trying hard to be the big strong brother that he knew she really needed.

Suddenly they were interrupted by their human Mum calling Gigi to take her to the car. “Right then, this is it!” Gigi nudged Rocco with her pointy snout. “Give me a hug then!”

Rocco stared at Gigi and thought how nice she looked with her scarlet red scarf wrapped around her neck, her fur smoothed back, the silver-grey fur on her muzzle and round her eyes making her look distinguished and ridiculously gorgeous.

Leaning towards her to give her a hug, he thought how nice she smelt with her doggy cologne and just her own individual smell that all of our dogs/cats have and if you don’t believe me, go and smell your precious cat/dog now because they do have their own unique scent that simply cannot be replicated.

“Look after Mum for me and keep an eye out for Brutus, you know how he gets bullied by other dogs.” Gigi re-tied her scarf and gave Rocco a quick lick on the cheek.

“Promise you will let me know once you arrive?” Rocco whispered.

“You my dear brother, will be the first to know.” Then turning to face her Mum, Gigi allowed herself to be picked up and carried outside to the car. As Rocco ran to the window and pressed his snout up against the glass, he could see his Mum start up the car and drive off with Gigi in the back.

Rocco left the window and trotted through the house, going from room to room to check. He eventually he found one of Gigi’s toys which he picked up and carried on to his bed and then burying his entire face in to the toy to muffle any sound, Rocco started to cry.

When glamour walks into the room

Bowie the Gatekeeper, Photograph by Fran Forbes

A large white greyhound known as Bowie (AKA – the Gatekeeper) stood outside a huge brass gate. Holding a clipboard with some names on it, he impatiently pressed the button on his biro pen a few times and frowned. Everyone was in that should have been, well except for one – one dog was late. Checking the list again, Bowie realised who it was and laughed, “Now why doesn’t that surprise me!”

A tan and white self-important looking staffie was chowing down on some doggy treats in a bag. Delving his snout into the packet, he triumphantly pulled out a kangaroo flavoured biscuit before offering Bowie one. “Fancy one Bowie? Who are we waiting for?”

Bowie politely declined the treats, he was watching his figure and wasn’t as active as some of the other dogs. “You will know soon enough, it will all kick off when they arrive I promise you that.”

The staffie shrugged and muttered something about going for a game of tennis ball with the kelpies that were waiting for him. A handsome black kelpie with a white cross on his chest, waved in the distance and yelled, “Are you coming Rex?”

Rex wagged his tail, “Yes Rocky, I will be there in a second!”

Bowie winked at him, “Off you go lad – your mates are waiting for you.”

“Well, if you are sure…” Rex started to say but didn’t bother to finish because the temptation to play ball with the kelpies was just too much. Before Bowie got to say anything else, Rex was running as fast as his little legs would carry him to where the kelpies were and all you could hear was the typical ‘piggy’ and snorting sounds of an out of breath staffie dog.

“Thirty minutes late!” Bowie growled to himself, then lifting his head up high, his nose started to twitch as he picked up a scent. “Can anyone smell that? Smells like perfume?”

He could hear her before he saw her, in fact there was no mistaking that voice. “Darling, I am finally here! Did you think that I wasn’t coming? You must tell me absolutely everything!

“Oh God it is so good to not have that awful belly pain. They operated of course but I was so sick and had totally had enough of this old age lark. How amazing though, death-by-bone, what a way to go!”

Bowie laughed, it was hard to be annoyed with her. I mean, what a grand entrance to make and only she could carry it off, “Gigi, fashionably late as usual – loving the scarf sweetheart!” Then leaning towards her, he accepted her dramatic air-kiss on either side as Gigi made the ‘Mwah, Mwah!’ sound for effect as she kissed him.

Grabbing his biro pen, Bowie marked her off on his list. That was it for the day, the next intake would be tomorrow. He pointed ahead of him and nudged Gigi on her rump, “Are you ready then Gigi?”

Gigi looked longingly through the gates. It was better than she ever could have imagined, so beautiful with all the animals looking in superb condition and what is more, she could not wait to go through and start enjoying her new-found health, youth and vitality.

“Oh darling, I just need to let someone know that I am here if that is OK?” Gigi gestured with her paws.

“OK, off you go then, but make it quick sweetie as I want to watch a dog program on TV later and I have some mates coming over for some dog beer.”

Gigi sat down, closed her eyes and took a deep breath and whispered, “Rocco, Madam Gigi has landed!” Then standing up and wagging her tail, she trotted over to where Bowie was standing.

“Ready?” Bowie nodded at her.

“You betcha I am ready!” Gigi clapped her paws.

They both walked to the gates which opened automatically to allow them to go through.

As Gigi stepped over to the other side, with each step she became fitter, younger and more energetic until she became the age and fitness level that suited her best.

Over to where the kelpies were playing, one black kelpie in particular stopped playing ball with his mates. Glancing up he noticed Gigi walking towards them. Walking slowly towards her, the black kelpie beamed when he realised who it was.

Rocky patiently waiting for Gigi – Photograph by Samantha Rose

“Rocky, you waited for me – I knew you would, now tell me everything about this place!” Gigi barked at him.

“Gigi, allow me to welcome you to Rainbow Bridge and you are going to love it…” Rocky greeted her warmly and led her to her new friends and a life that you and I as humans can only dream about.

At Rocco’s House

Rocco was asleep in his bed when suddenly he sat up and cocked his head to the side as though someone had called his name.

Getting up and having a stretch, Rocco looked up and started to wag his tail. He smiled and said in a quiet voice, “Thank you Gigi.” Then picking up his mobile, he texted his good friend Pippin Potter.

At Pippin’s House

Pippin Potter was in his office organising the Iggy Christmas party, it was the most anticipated and looked forward to event of the year and Pippin positively relished in organising it.

Pippin Potter – the organiser, Photograph by Samantha Rose

“Latte, can you come here please I have a job for you!” Pippin called out to his younger sister. But before he had chance to follow up on the conversation, his mobile phone beeped and a message flashed up from Rocco. Dabbing his pointy snout with his favourite blue silk handkerchief, Pippin picked up the phone and read the message.

“Pippin, I was busy you know, I am not your servant!” Latte sulked as she barged into his office. Then noticing the look on his face, she stopped in her tracks, “Is everything OK?”

Ignoring Latte, Pippin quickly composed a group text and then hit the ‘send’ button, “Go and get Bronte, I need to tell you both something”.

At Zara and Nica’s house

“I can’t believe she has gone.” Nica shook her head sadly as she had always been good friends with Gigi.

Zara snatched some handkerchiefs from the tissue box, wiped her eyes and then noisily blew her snout afterwards. “I just don’t understand why she had to go, why did she have to go Nica?”

Nica being a much more sensible dog than Zara, smiled kindly at her sister. She wasn’t used to discussing Rainbow Bridge and had no idea that really was the best place for animals to go when their lives and purpose with their humans was done. “It was her time Zara, there comes a time in every animal’s life where they need to make their journey to Rainbow Bridge and today was Gigi’s.”

“Nica?” Zara asked her sister.

“Yes Zara?”

“Will Gigi like it there?”

“Yes, Zara she will love it,” Nica answered truthfully. And with that answer, Zara had to be content.

At Rocco’s House

Despite Pippin Potter offering the group support for him, Rocco had declined, saying that he preferred his own company. He had even sent his invisible friends away so it was just Rocco and his own thoughts.

Rocco sat on the sofa and glanced around the living room. Gigi’s toys were where she had left them in the corner by her bed which had her favourite blankets still moulded into her shape where she had slept. Her bowls in the kitchen with the uneaten kibble and tiny paw prints where she had bought in some mud from the garden. Rocco wondered how could so much of her still be in the house without her being there?

Taking a deep breath and puffing his cheeks out, Rocco went to pick up Gigi’s toys. One by one, he tidied them up and placed them next to her bed then once he had finished, he pressed his nose onto her bed to take in her scent before getting in to her bed and curling up on the blankets. After a few minutes all you could hear were the gentle snores of an exhausted and heartbroken dog.

Rocco with Gigi’s toys – Photograph by Gwynneth Cavilla, published with her permission.

A couple of weeks later

“Go away, I hate everyone and no I am not interested!” Rocco barked furiously at whoever was knocking at his door. He had been a grumpy-guts all week, refusing to talk to anyone or discuss his feelings. Even Brutus couldn’t get through to him and that was saying something.

“Rocco my friend, it’s Pippin. Can you open the door – talk to me, you can’t stay shut in here forever.” The quiet, posh voice of Pippin Potter sounded from outside, in his well-spoken ‘BBC English’ accent that everyone knew and loved.

“Leave me alone! I don’t need any of you – bollocks to you all!” Rocco yelled.

Pippin sighed, there was nothing he could do or say to break down the invisible barrier that Rocco had built up to keep everyone away and for the first time ever, he didn’t know what to do and Pippin always knew what to do.

Rainbow Bridge

Gigi had been at Rainbow Bridge for a few weeks but had still been keeping an eye on Rocco from above to see how he was coping. She was not happy with what she saw, she really had believed that Rocco would have started to move on or at least allowed his friends to be there to support him.

Rocky the kelpie and Gigi were relaxing on the sun loungers by the swimming pool one day. They often enjoyed one another’s company and would do respectable things like go to the opera or have dog beer while reading upmarket magazines and newspapers while discussing sheep herding or current affairs.

The pool really was rather marvellous non-slip rocks scattered on the edges. Balls and toys were everywhere for the dogs to play with and even some inflatables that magically stay inflated no matter how many times they are bitten. There were bottles of water and dog beer on the little round tables next to each sun lounger and bowls of dog biscuits and treats for those that wanted them.

A golden Labrador was swimming lengths in the pool while occasionally diving for his favourite rope toy. He was being cheered on by a brindle whippet who was coaching him. The pool was big enough for all to enjoy but the Labrador still kept a respectful distance from Gigi and Rocky because he thought that Gigi did not look like the type of dog to enjoy getting wet. He was right as well because later Gigi told him that she would actually melt if she went in the water and the Labrador never forgot it.

“He is in a pretty bad way Gigi, what are we going to do?” Rocky took a mouthful of his dog beer, savoured it in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing it and giving a little belch. “Excuse me!” Rocky covered his mouth with his paw and blushed. Thank the Lord that Gigi hadn’t noticed as Rocky would have been mortified.

“I think it’s time that I sorted this out once and for all!” Gigi said firmly and placed her drink back on to the table.

“Do you think he is ready?” Rocky asked as he stood up, stretched and walked to the edge of the pool, “After all – there is no going back if you do this.”

“Absolutely, I know my brother and he is more than ready. He just doesn’t know it yet.” Gigi gave a confident nod and raised her drink, “Cheers, here’s to Rocco!”

“To Rocco!” Rocky barked and dived into the pool to retrieve a tennis ball that he could ignore no longer.

One Month Later

Rocco had been in the foulest of moods since Gigi died. He had even taken to insulting strangers that knocked on the door and had told one salesman that he hoped that his testicles would fall off and be eaten by the crows.

His days were spent sitting by the window calling the neighbours dogs ugly and telling the poodles down the road that their hair looked shit. He had stopped hanging out with his invisible mates and had become so withdrawn from life that he wouldn’t even talk on the phone to his friend Brutus.

Anyway, it was one afternoon and Rocco as usual, had his grump on and was busy swearing at himself on his bed and chewing his own leg because it had moved without his consent. On hearing his human put the keys in the front door, Rocco quickly curled up into a ball so that he could pretend to be asleep – that way his human would think twice about disturbing him.

The door opened and Rocco felt a blast of fresh air infiltrate his nostrils, he closed his eyes tightly and shuddered out a big sigh. But then something else hit his nostrils and the scent was so strong that it may as well smacked him in the face and despite not wanting to open his eyes, the presence of something staring at him was that intense that he had no choice but to open them.

“Hello there! I am Cilla, I am going to be living with you! How jolly nice this house is, do you have any toys? I love toys, do you love toys? Where is my bed? Would you like to play? We are going to be lifelong friends! Aren’t you excited? I am excited!”

Rocco was horrified to be met with the sight of a beautiful blue/fawn and white Italian greyhound puppy of about 8 months old. And like all Iggy puppies, she spoke fast while asking a plethora of questions and changing the subject several times in the process.

It’s not often that Rocco is lost for words but this time he was. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and watched little Cilla squealing with excitement as she ran from room to room, frantically circling every time she picked up a scent.

“Oh, look what I have found! How lovely, can I keep it?” Cilla ran up to Rocco with one of Gigi’s soft toys in her mouth.

“No! Get that out of your mouth now! It’s not yours, that is Gigi’s!” Rocco shouted at Cilla.

Startled, Cilla dropped the toy and scampered behind the sofa whimpering.

“That’s not yours to take! Gigi would be furious if she were here!” Rocco growled and picked up the toy to take back to his bed.

Too terrified to move, Cilla remained behind the sofa and eventually fell asleep in a tiny ball with her long legs folded up like a dead upturned spider and Rocco being the stubborn boy that he is, didn’t want to move either.

But Rocco needed to know more about this imposter. I mean she could be anyone – she could be intending to steal his toys, his human and everything. Curiosity got the better of him and he decided to go and check her out.

“And another thing, you can’t just come in here thinking that it’s your home….” Rocco began to say but stopped when he saw little Cilla.

She looked so tiny and had a sweet puppy innocence about her. Where everything is exciting and wonderful, where every toy belongs to you, where everyone loves you and thinks that you are marvellous. Puppies often get into the wrong hands and don’t always end up in a good home and Rocco knew that from stuff his mates had told him.

Cilla’s ears were neatly folded back on her head, her nose tucked under her tail by her bum. She had that delicious puppy smell that pups tend to have. It reminded Rocco of Zara, Latte and the other puppies that he had seen in the Iggy Club, puppies that he had grown to know and love.

Gigi would have loved her for sure and probably given her the toys because Gigi delighted in other dogs being happy and relished in making them so. Cilla was a blank canvas and Rocco realised that he could teach her everything he knew and how to be the best dog that she could be.

Feeling a huge pang of guilt that he had been so mean to her, Rocco went back to his bed and picked up Gigi’s toy. Careful not to wake her, he gently dropped the toy by Cilla’s paws and stared at her for a few minutes. Snuggling into the toy, Cilla made a few little puppy moans of contentment.

“I guess that Gigi won’t be needing that toy after all.” Rocco thought to himself. The temperature had dropped and Cilla shivered a little in her sleep tucking herself even tighter to keep warm.

Gigi used to love it when Rocco curled up next to her and they would keep each other warm. That was just what they would do for each other you see, it was what you would call a team effort I guess.

“Oh, alright then, if you insist!” Rocco shrugged and curled up on the floor next to Cilla. Shuffling across towards her, he felt her shivering to keep warm. Pressing himself closer towards her, he rested his head on her neck and it wasn’t long before he was fast asleep with the only thing between them was Gigi’s little stuffed toy.

Rocco lays the ground rules down for Cilla – Photograph by Gwynneth Cavilla, published with her permission

Always room for a little one

Gigi was alone in the gardens of Rainbow Bridge. She had been there for a few hours while having some quiet reflection.

“Everything OK Gigi?” She heard Rocky’s voice from behind her.

Turning around, she beamed at him. “Yes, my friend, it most certainly is…”.

And the moral of the story is, when one beloved pet leaves our lives, it paves the way for another one to enter. It doesn’t mean that we love the old pet any less, it just means that there is always a space for another pet to love. It gives them a chance to have a loving home and it gives us the opportunity to love again and at the end of the day, a short time of loving a pet is far better than not loving one at all.

Dedicated to Tunamara Dolce Gigi 2006-2019

This story has been published with the kind permission of Rocco and Gigi’s human – Gwynneth.

Samantha Rose – Copyright (c) November 2019

The Day Brutus Found His Bark

Posted on October 6, 2018 by Samantha Rose

Brutus finds his bark

You may remember a story that I wrote about the garbage truck and how Rocky would start the ‘Dog Choir’ in notifying the dogs on our street that the evil garbage truck was out to eat all the dogs and their families.

Brutus would wait for Rocky to start and as soon as that pesky truck came from round the corner, Brutus would dance and prance around the garden and give his best bark to assist Rocky in the warning that everyone would be eaten and turned into recycling material.

It was serious stuff and it didn’t matter how well the dogs knew and recognised that this was a weekly thing, each and every time it happened, they would treat it like a new event.

Well since my darling Rocky has crossed over to Rainbow Bridge, Brutus has been lost in a way I have never seen him lost before. Even worse than he was with Gordon, my big brown gentle giant doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

On the Tuesday after Rocky died, we heard the garbage truck coming and wondered if Brutus would bark at it. But no, Brutus tucked himself away in the kennel and you could just see the tips of his paws sticking out as he pretended that he was anywhere but the garden that provided him with so many memories of his kelpie brother.

Brutus and Rocky in happier times

Well a couple of weeks ago something happened and I am not going to kid you, it brought a tear to my eye and trust me there have been quite a few of those happening to me lately let me tell you.

Brutus was out in the garden just before the garbage truck was due. He really didn’t want to go out at all and I had to force him, after all there is only so long one can hold ones urine for.

‘Let him out, it’s for his own good’, my husband insisted as I was getting dressed.

Brutus looked so pitiful curled up on the sofa – which has now become his bed. Yes I know, it’s a new sofa and slowly getting wrecked by Brutus and Kevin but hey ho, this sofa isn’t a patch on my Rocky dog who will hold far more fond memories and love than any leather sofa ever could.

Brutus in his chair

Anyway, I digress.

Forcing Brutus to go out into the garden for his morning pee, I left him standing outside for a few mins before he walked to his kennel, climbed in and went straight back to sleep (without taking a pee I might add).

You could see his little black eye tufts covering the slits of his eyes as he tried to imagine what his brother would be up to at Rainbow Bridge – playing with Gordon probably, or tennis balls because Rocky’s life always involved tennis balls as you well know.

‘Pssst, Brutus! It’s time!’ Vader the boxer’s voice came from behind the fence.

Brutus ignored him, sighed and tucked his snout up against his bottom.

‘Pssst, Brutus – the truck is on its way, you have to start the dog choir off! We can’t do it without you, it’s the position you see – you are first in line!’ Vader barked firmly.

‘I am scared of that truck, I only barked at it because Rocky did, I can’t do it Vader, just get someone else to do it – you can do it, you have a good bark on you’, Brutus replied just quietly enough so that Vader could hear him.

Sounds of frustrated snout snuffling could be heard at the fence from Vader, ‘Brutus we depend on you bro, you have to sort this garbage truck out, for all of us. Remember what Rocky said about them eating our families and stealing our toys?’

Brutus buried his head between his paws, ‘I can’t hear you so there is no point in asking me!’.

Vader growled in frustration, it was no good, he had to do something.

A few seconds later several parrots jumped on to the fence, a lorikeet landed just by Brutus’s kennel but not quite close enough for Brutus to eat him as a snack which was quite possible.

‘Brutus my friend, you have to defend your garden and start off the suburban dog choir. Our lives depend on it’, the lorikeet said gently.

‘Go away, I could eat you if I wanted to’, Brutus said in a sad voice and he was sad, so very sad.

The brightly coloured bird stretched out his wings and admired his wing span. The lorikeet suggested to Brutus that if he was too scared to start the dog choir and bark at the garbage truck then it was highly unlikely he would be brave enough to eat a small parrot such as himself.

‘If you must know, I am scared to start it off. What if I am not up to the job, in case you haven’t noticed I am not Rocky you know!’

The lorikeet hopped on to Brutus’s paw and stared at him straight in the eyes, ‘We know you are not Rocky, nobody is saying otherwise but this is YOUR home and this is YOUR family, this is YOUR garden and now Rocky is not here, you have to defend it all and by defending your garden, you remind us to defend our gardens!’.

‘I mean how on earth are we all meant to know about everything if you don’t start the dog choir off and protect us from the garbage truck?’

‘Come on Brutus, you can do it!’ Vader shouted from his garden.

‘Come on lad, we are all going to be eaten at this rate, don’t you love your Mum and Dad and Kevin the cat enough to defend them?’ Another dog piped up from a house opposite – he had moved in a few months ago.

The sounds of the garbage truck grew closer and it would have been about this time that Rocky would have gone running round his garden while yelling ‘Save us all, save your souls and save your family! The garbage truck is here!’

This of course would have escalated the whole thing and set Vader off and dogs in the surrounding areas and a whole domino effect would have occurred and all the dogs in the suburb would be singing the songs of their people.

‘I can’t, I just can’t! I am scared! I want my brother, I want Rocky, he always knew what to do!’ Brutus sobbed.

The lorikeet flapped his wings just as a wagtail bird landed by Brutus’s kennel. ‘Well do it for Rocky, if you can’t do it for any of us, do it for Rocky’, the wagtail butted in as he hopped from one foot to the other.

‘Yes, do it for Rocky!’ Vader snorted and one by one, the dogs of the street echoed one another until all you could hear in various doggy voices was ‘Do it for Rocky!’.

Brutus stepped out of his kennel and slowly stretched his hind legs. He glanced around and could hear the dogs barking ‘Do it for Rocky’, he could now see several wagtails, about ten lorikeets, a few black cockatoos plus some doves, three galahs and two Corellas cockatoos in his garden – something Rocky would have gone ballistic over. Birds always did make Rocky furious because they had a tendency to gossip and exclude Rocky from it all.

‘Do you think he can do it?’ Vader asked the dog opposite.

‘Not sure, he seems to have fallen apart since Rocky went!’ the dog shrugged.

And as the garbage truck went past the house, the dogs waited with baited breath for Brutus to take over the warning signal which would in turn, tell them that the awful garbage truck had come to eat them and their loved ones plus steal their bones and toys like a thief in the night.

Suddenly a quiet ‘woof’ sounded, so quiet that you could barely hear it, followed by a slightly louder ‘woof’.

‘Did you hear that?’ Vader cocked his head to the side.

‘No, I don’t think so’, the dog opposite replied.

But before he got chance to say anything else, the ‘woof’ got louder and louder until there was no mistaking it.

‘Come on Brutus, you can do this my friend!’ one of the galahs encouraged him.

‘Is that Brutus?’ Vader demanded and tried to peak through the fence.

For there standing behind the wall for protection, but peaking out just enough to see the garbage truck, was Brutus. He was shaking so badly that he had urinated himself.

The ridge was up on his back as he forced himself to let out a series of barks aimed at the garbage truck.

‘They are here to kill our families, eat us all, take our toys and steal our bones, tell everyone you love, warn them so it doesn’t happen!’ Brutus’s bark got deeper as the truck got closer.

‘The truck is here! It’s going to take us all!’ Vader yelled, ‘Save yourselves and your owners, take your toys and your treats!’.

‘Save our souls! It’s a thing of evil!’ shouted the birds.

Before long every single dog and bird was shouting and chanting about the dangerous truck in the vicinity.

Meanwhile I was inside sorting some stuff out. ‘Did you hear that? I think he has found his voice!’ I said to my husband while trying not to cry. Because believe me when I say that Brutus really has lost himself since Rocky died and in so many ways.

‘Yep, it sounds like he is barking again’, my husband smiled.

‘Well done lad, well done! We all get to live another week thanks to you!’ the dog opposite barked approvingly through the fence.

‘Do you really think so?’ Brutus asked him.

‘Totally!’ Vader wagged his tail and looked absurdly proud and somewhat emotional, ‘You rock Brutus, you are our new hero!’

‘Same time next week?’ the wagtail grinned at him.

Brutus took a deep breath and nodded firmly, ‘Same time next week it is’. Then without saying another word, Brutus got back into his kennel and curled up in a tiny ball – almost as though his sudden burst of bravery had exhausted him.

‘I did it Rocky, I saved everyone and I wished you could have seen me do it’, Brutus whispered to himself.

Brutus the brave

But what Brutus didn’t see was Rocky standing behind ‘The Brutus’ tree (Brutus’s favourite Conifer tree) and wagging his tail. He didn’t appear to have any pain his hips, he looked young, fresh and full of vitality and health and judging by the proud look on his face, he had seen everything.

Picking up his beloved tennis ball from the limestone wall, Rocky gave Brutus one more glance before trotting off and disappearing as quickly as he appeared.

Our wonderful pets never leave us, their habits and behaviours can live on in so many ways and more importantly, our memories.

Dedicated to dogs everywhere – especially those that defend their families against garbage trucks.

Rocky – forever watching from wherever he is

Where Did You Go My Friend….

Posted on September 30, 2018 by Samantha Rose

My Best Friend – Rocky

It was Friday evening on 7th September, Rocky and I were curled up on the sofa on one end, Brutus and Kev were on the other. I was ruffling Rocky’s neck and tickling his ears when I felt a lump that I had not noticed before, my first thought was a cyst and I had seen many of those in my career as a vet nurse when I lived in the UK. ‘What’s that on your neck?’ I asked him. Staring back at me with his beautiful brown eyes now so cloudy with age, he shrugged ‘You know, I am a lumpy old dog – comes with age’.

With just the minimal pressure I had applied to the lump, I felt warm blood trickle down my hands, feeling somewhat concerned, I cleaned it up and made a mental note to book the vet the next day to get it looked at.

The next day at the vet

‘That’s not a cyst, I don’t know what that is but it’s not a cyst and it needs to be removed’, the vet looked concerned as she told me and after a discussion, Rocky was booked in for the following Tuesday for surgery to get the lump removed and biopsied to see what it was. The vet asked me to check him that evening for any other lumps and bumps so that they could investigate those while he was asleep.

We were both off on annual leave that week so at least we could be at home to look after him, we had plans to go on holiday but had shelved them – thank goodness and that was a decision that was a blessing in disguise because I shudder to think what might have happened had we gone to our usual ‘middle of nowhere’ type of trip.

Either way, it was a strange moment and even stranger feeling that I can’t explain in my usual way as you will probably gather from reading this.

We were in the car park at the vets and I was about to get in the car. Rocky looked at the car and sighed, he looked exhausted as though life had just got too much all of a sudden, or perhaps it had been a while and maybe I hadn’t noticed it. Gently lifting him on to the back seat, I kissed his head, smoothed his erect triangular ears and buckled his safety belt to his collar.

Rocky and I have always enjoyed music in the car so I turned on my Usher CD and made a face at Rocky to warn him that I would probably start singing – badly. He gave a ‘Must you Mum?’ kind of look and we both laughed.

Reversing out of the car park, I was about to indicate right but at the last minute, indicated left and engaged to go.

‘Shall we take the long way home, by the coastal route?’ I asked Rocky. It added about 15 mins on to the journey but I knew he liked it, I liked it too – the ocean always looked so spectacular at that time of the morning, well at any time of the morning really.

‘Lovely day for it’, Rocky said as he pressed his snout on the window adding to the vast selection of ‘nose art’ that I simply could not be bothered to wash off.

‘Lovely day for what?’ I said, not taking my eyes off the road but tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to the music.

Rocky shrugged, ‘I love this stretch of coastline, my favourite beaches and everything. How lucky we are to live here. Do you remember when I was on South Beach as a pup and started barking at that German man’s dog for not giving me his ball and the German man told you to stop me from shouting?’

We both laughed at the memory, it was hilarious and I could still here that miserable bastard saying ‘Your dog is shouting, you must stop him now!’ in his German accent. Of course I didn’t help matters by laughing which made him go bright red with anger, we actually thought that he might explode.

Then after the German guy had gone, Rocky managed to herd up a few other dogs and cause a canine uprising on the beach where all the dogs had refused to go back to their owners, preferring to run into the ocean in an act of rebellion instead.

Happy days they were, naughty days but happy all the same.

‘My favourite beaches!’ Rocky repeated with a smile on his face as he wistfully stared at the beautiful ocean as we drove past.

Rocky’s pained expression at me singing along to Usher

We arrived home about twenty minutes later and I opened the car door for him to get out. ‘Come on Rocky, Brutus is waiting for you and you know how he likes to hear about your car journeys’, I said to him.

He went to stand up in the car that he so easily got into an hour or so ago, he couldn’t get out.

Rocky looked at me all confused as though he wasn’t quite sure where he was. ‘Sorry Mum, if I could just have a few minutes that would be great’.

I could see Brutus’s anxious face pressed against the living room window, his tail which was initially wagging at high speed, slowly dwindled down to a swish. His brown forehead creased with concern at why his brother hadn’t jumped out of the car with the same enthusiasm that he had got in to it.

Initially I had thought he may have wrenched his hip as he has bad hips and so carefully lifted the senior kelpie out of the car where he just stood on the ground and looked at me. He wasn’t really there, it was like part of him had suddenly left me. I grabbed his tennis ball and threw it at him, he half bent down to pick it up and then looked back up at me and said ‘No thank you’ and stood there looking confused in an ‘Are we there yet dear?’ sort of way.

That was when it hit me, he had started to shut down and I shall explain more about that later.

I took him in to the living room where he managed to get himself on the sofa and settle down. He didn’t want his tea which was a first – ever, there was no vomiting, no drinking, no salivating, no diarrhoea, but no appetite either (he did have his breakfast that morning though).

Later that evening

We were all curled up on the sofa – me, Rocky, Brutus and Kevin, all snuggled up under a blanket. As the vet had shaved round the lump on his neck near his gland, I was able to get a good look at it and it looked nasty, it did not look innocent by any stretch of the imagination. It looked as though a hard piece of meat had erupted through his skin and I could see why the vet was concerned.

Now a few months back, Rocky presented with rapid respiration and fast heartbeat and as an ex veterinary nurse, I was quick to ask for Xrays and bloods – all were normal except for an ever so slightly enlarged liver and spleen (as reported by a radiographer), which was listed as unremarkable as that can happen in older animals having general anesthesia. His breathing settled down again and everything was fine – until now.

And it was now that Rocky’s belly looked swollen – not bloat swollen, but like it was ‘full of something’ swollen and it had only just happened on the journey home. He couldn’t really get comfortable. But in hindsight though and in recent months Rocky had started to adopt a strange position on the sofa where he would lie on his chest with his head propped up on the back of the chair, funny to look at but just another Rocky type quirk we put it down to – a bit like him barking at the stars at night for daring to shine in his garden.

‘Mum, what’s up with Rocky?’ Brutus asked me. He looked concerned and confused.

Rocky looked at me and I looked at him, his eyes were changing, it was like he was packing to leave his body, to leave me, to leave us.

Rocky’s eyes starting to glaze over

‘You’re leaving me aren’t you?’ I blurted out at him and then burst into noisy sobs as I clung on to his little body. In between my sobs, I could feel Brutus trying to lick my arms while saying ‘Mum, is Rocky going to wear tweed?’ (animals do tend to wear tweed when they cross over to Rainbow Bridge).

When my husband arrived home later that night, he was visibly shocked at the sight of our little kelpie dog who appeared to be shrinking in front of our eyes.

‘Tomorrow we book him in at the vets’, I said to my husband. ‘I shall sleep in the spare room with him tonight in case he needs me’, I added.

As for Rocky, he gave a tired smile and mouthed the words ‘Thank you’ to both of us.

That night my little ‘beetle dog’ (as I called him), snuggled up to me in the spare bedroom, he felt cold so I covered him with my duvet. As he slept and relaxed a little, I stroked him over his abdomen where to my horror, I could feel a firm lump and the surrounding area did not feel right either. No wonder this dog had been uncomfortable and no wonder he had tensed up on examination but one thing was certain, whatever had happened, had occurred quickly.

Sunday Morning – 9th September

It was my husbands birthday and we had planned to go out for breakfast and then take the boys out. Obviously that had been cancelled and we were now at the vets.

The waiting room was empty except for us and a small dog and his human. The little dog was doing rude gestures at Rocky and barking at various things that had upset him. Normally this would have been enough to set Rocky in to a full on aggression frenzy of rude words and insults, but today Rocky just ignored him which surprised both us and the vet.

I won’t go into the full conversation between us and the vet, it is too painful for me to talk about let alone even think about and go over. But I will tell you that when Rocky had his chest X-rays all those months ago, I made a comment saying to the vet that it wouldn’t surprise me if Rocky had cancer and there was something nasty going on.

Don’t ask me what made me think it, it was a feeling that I had and I have always been intuitive with my animals and those in my care when I worked as a veterinary nurse. Rocky’s gums were a bit pale but his bloods came back normal.

We even paid extra to have the X-rays reported on by a radiographer and as I mentioned earlier – they came back ‘unremarkable’ – normal, except for a slightly enlarged liver/spleen which can happen when old dogs have anaesthetics. Yet despite those normal findings, my gut instinct and the way in which Rocky was looking at me, told me that something was seriously wrong. We just couldn’t put our finger on it and believe me it wasn’t for the lack of trying and veterinary check ups/tests either.

The tumour on Rocky’s neck looked nasty, his belly was now firm and very sore and when the vet went to palpate it, my husband said his face showed tremendous pain and discomfort.

His eyes had started to glaze over – well they had actually started doing that the day before as the vet had noticed something wasn’t right but again, things had escalated overnight.

Suddenly things had started to make sense, in recent weeks Rocky would go from trotting around to walking oh-so-slowly past the window, looking visibly uncomfortable and I had assumed it was his hips bothering him. His breath had started to smell foul – it wasn’t his teeth because they were excellent for a ten year old kelpie that had 4 monthly checks at the vet for his hip injections, his yearly boosters/health checks – we were on top of that stuff and always had been.

The vet had noticed that Rocky for the first time ever, had ignored a dog in the waiting room and shown no interest in it and more concerning, it was a dog that was barking and growling at him. Rocky usually has to be taken to a separate room when there are other dogs around, but on that day it was like that other dog did not exist, he simply did not see him.

How did we miss it? How did we not see his suffering? Perhaps we did but as the vet said, kelpies are excellent at hiding their illness/injuries until by the time they are showing signs and symptoms, they are at crisis point.

This was a different vet to the one we saw on Saturday but she quickly agreed that the growth on Rocky’s neck (by his lymph glands) had appeared quickly and seemingly at an alarming rate and on closer inspection, did not look harmless.

I will never as long as I live, forget Rocky’s tired expression as he sat in that consult room, how bad his eyes were, his face, his pain when his abdomen was palpated, but most of all, his face the day before when I threw his tennis ball to him and he had decided that enough was enough, no more ball, no more fluffy penguin, no more games – he was done.

My Rocky – ready to cross that bridge

I swore blind that I would be more observant with my pets after letting Gordon go on for longer than was fair to him, I swore and promised that it would never happen again. But my Rocky was so good at hiding stuff and I certainly recall asking my husband last week if we were being cruel with Rocky as lately even since his last vet visit, he seemed to be uncomfortable and his breathing was at times, becoming a struggle again and had started to not want to get off his bed to go out for a game in the garden.

‘Are you coming for a game of ball Rocky?’ I would say to him, he would just blink at me and remain where he was and I would make a joke about him preferring his bed to our company. Why did I not pick up on that?

My head could not grasp how well he could be one moment and then the next, barely be able to walk and look so unwell.

The hardest decision for us but the kindest for Rocky

After an in depth discussion with the vet, we made the heartbreaking decision to let him go. The tumour on his neck was most likely to be cancerous and I think that was just the tip of the iceberg to be truthful. The enlarged spleen/liver although reported as normal, the tender abdomen and the lumps that had been felt, his whole appearance, behaviour and eyes completing the bigger picture. The fact that he had stopped eating, no longer wanted his ball and no longer gave a stuff about a dog having a go at him in the waiting room.

The vet was honest enough and said they could go out to investigate and open him up, remove his tumours – test them, and if required or appropriate, give him chemo – we were insured and even if we were not, we were going to pull money from our house (we have done that before).

I made a point of asking the vet that if she thought it was the wrong decision, would she tell me, be honest with me because although I am an ex veterinary nurse, the boundaries often become blurred when it comes to letting go of your pets when the right time comes and the decision has to be the best one because it is not something you can take back.

The vet agreed that it was the kindest thing to do and she would not even contemplate it had she not believed in it. And looking at Rocky at that precise point, we decided to let him go with what dignity he had left rather than put him through surgery, scans and treatment to extend his life for what? And more to the point, for whose benefit?

Goodbye my beautiful, special darling dog – Rocky

Rocky was taken out the back to have his IV line put in, he willingly went off with the vet, he has known the staff for ten years, they know him well and vice versa. He is more than comfortable with them.

He walked back in albeit a little stiffly, you could see his abdomen was uncomfortable, his eyes were tired, the bald patch where his neck had been clipped to show the tumour from the day before.

Right to the end he comforted me

If you looked ever so carefully and had my kind of imagination, you could see Rocky wearing an old tweed suit, while clutching a tatty brown briefcase and a peaked tweed cap.

My heart was pounding in my chest, I wanted to vomit – dear God what was I doing? Should I put him through surgery, chemo, could I continue to turn a blind eye to his discomfort, how much more should I or could I put him through? I didn’t want him to leave but I knew he couldn’t stay.

The vet had the two syringes in her hand, these syringes contained ‘Rainbow Juice’ which is what I call the drug that sends our pets to Rainbow Bridge. Rocky sat on some comfy soft blankets on the floor and I sat beside him and my husband sat in front of him. This was so we could be the last people he saw, felt and heard.

‘So, this is it then, I must admit that I am looking forward to not feeling quite so rubbish’, Rocky gave a half smile to me. His kelpie spectacles were neatly perched on the end of his nose, his peaked cap and tweed suit looking quite dapper but smelling of mothballs.

‘I am so sorry Rocky, I am so very very sorry I didn’t realise how sick you were’, I cried into his fur, memorizing every single part of him. I had taken photos earlier but now I wanted more memories because in a second they would be all I had.

‘Yeah well, these things tend to creep up on us, tumours are a bugger like that’, Rocky shrugged and licked my face as I cried (see photo above).

‘I love you so much, I don’t know what I am going to do without you, how will I manage without you?’ I stared at him – oh my god, how the hell did I miss not realising how sick this dog was?

‘You are going to have to keep Kevin in line, he is a bully and he walks all over you!’ Rocky laughed. Actually there was no love lost between him and Kevin to be honest. Rocky had gone for Kev a few times and Kev had given as good as he got but that very morning we took Rocky to his final journey, Kevin sat close to Rocky and Rocky allowed him to.

The way Kevin looked at Rocky that morning, he knew he was sick.

I felt his little body start to relax against mine – the ‘Rainbow Juice’ had started it’s journey into Rocky’s body and in turn, Rocky had started his journey over the bridge with the people that he loved the most right beside him – his human family.

‘Oh Mum, look at that – tennis balls and sheep! They are everywhere, can you see them? Oh my god, it’s Gordon, can I go to him? This is fantastic, I feel fantastic! Can you see it all?’ Rocky said sleepily, ‘Can’t you see it?’

But before I had the chance to answer, Rocky had left me and was running over the bridge to where Bowie the white greyhound and ‘Gatekeeper’ of the bridge was waiting to welcome him to a new life of where pain and illness do not exist and animals can have a life that only you and I can dream about.

The last thing I saw before it all disappeared, was my old cat Gordon gazing up at Rocky as they both trotted across the bridge to where a group of sheep were cheering at Rocky’s arrival.

Rocky and Gordon together again

I pleaded with him not to leave me – long after he went. I cradled his little body and broke down. I cried until I thought my heart would break and three weeks on as I write this, I am crying now.

‘Please don’t leave me Rocky, I love you so very much’ I sobbed, but he had gone and it was looking at his worn out and sick body lying on the blankets, that I knew my little old kelpie deserved better than biopsies and chemo/invasive surgery and bad hips.

I don’t know how long I remained on the floor holding my boy, but I do know it was for a while as I repeatedly said sorry to him. I don’t even remember getting up to leave either, but as I did, I glanced round and I swear to God I could imagine that old tweed suit crumpled up on the ground, with the peaked cap and kelpie spectacles on the floor next to the tatty briefcase.

Pippin Potter the Italian Greyhound’s house

Pippin Potter the Iggy – Brutus’s good friend had taken a telephone call. Bronte and her new sister Latte were having coffee in the garden while discussing puppies and stuff.

Suddenly Pippin’s phone rang, picking it up and dabbing his pointy snout, he replied ‘Pippin Potter here’.

Bronte looked up at her brother through the window and saw Pippin take a deep breath and compose himself.

‘I see, yes, we shall be right there’, Pippin said curtly and without saying a word, he and his Mum Denise quickly got into the car and drove off.

My House

We arrived home from the vet and I cannot even begin to explain to you how hard it was to drive back into my garden and see Rocky’s kennel and toys where we left them. The tennis ball that I threw to him the other night when he refused it was exactly where I left it, the garden looked so empty.

Brutus’s face pressed against the sliding door, he looked as anxious as when we had left him. His tail no longer wagging, his eyes frantically darted round to find his brother.

‘Mum, where is Rocky? Where is Rocky?’ Brutus barked loudly again and again.

Getting on to the sofa with Brutus, I clutched my big brown dog as I explained that Rocky had gone to Rainbow Bridge.

For some time afterwards, Brutus searched for Rocky, getting quite distressed when he saw Rocky’s collar and leash. My poor sensitive and gentle dog could not and would not settle and to this very day, he appears lost without Rocky.

Brutus the day after Rocky died with his toy that our friend bought him.

Pippin Potter

Pippin is the head of the Iggy Club, he runs pretty much everything in it really and if you have followed my stories about the Italian greyhounds, you will know him very well.

Pippin arrived at my house with his Mum, I opened the door to let them in and Pippin took Brutus aside to talk to him.

‘I don’t think I know what to do without my brother?’ What do I do Pippin?’ Brutus said to his little friend. He tried so hard to be a brave dog but a life with Rocky was the only life he had ever known, he did not know how to ‘dog’ without him.

Placing a paw on Brutus’s head, Pippin then bent down and gently licked Brutus’s face, ‘You take charge of your garden and house, you put one paw in front of the other and you slowly but surely carry on. Your Mum needs you’. Pippin said firmly, ‘You’ve got this Brutus, you’ve got this’.

Brutus said nothing, Pippin said nothing but both dogs just sat there quietly while the tiny Italian greyhound frequently touched Brutus with his paw just to let him know he was there.

I’ve got you buddy, I’ve got you

This was taken a couple of hours after Rocky went, Pippin cleaned Brutus’s snout

‘Pippin?’ Brutus asked him a few minutes later.

‘Yes Brutus?’ Pippin replied.

‘How will I know how to protect my house without Rocky?’ Brutus sniffed and wiped his eyes.

Pippin looked at him thoughtfully before responding, ‘One day it will come to you and one day when that time is right, you will do it’.

Nothing more was said between the two boys but Pippin managed to send a group message to the Iggy club saying ‘Rainbow Bridge update – the Kelpie has landed’, while discreetly dabbing his eyes with his silk handkerchief.

The Kelpie has landed

So what now?

The house is different, Kevin seems to have taken over everything and I mean everything. He initially was unsettled, unhappy and more aggressive than normal but is getting better.

He and Brutus play fight more now, they chase each other round the house, Brutus has started to pounce like a cat which is a bit ridiculous and Kevin is back to humping his blankets with his toys in his mouth which is even more so.

Will we get a second dog? No, I don’t think we will. But I would be lying if I said that I miss having a kelpie because that is my favourite breed of dog ever. My health isn’t good enough for two dogs but if (and it’s a massive ‘if‘), we were to get another dog, we would look at a middle aged rescue kelpie in need of a loving home rather than a pup.

The harsh realities of pet bereavement

Losing Rocky has broken me and I don’t mind admitting it. Now I don’t give a stuff if someone thinks it is an over reaction or it is ‘just a dog’ because it is dogs that give us companionship, loyalty, service (as working dogs), and trust, and they expect nothing in return. So I make no excuses or apologies for the grief that I am showing for my kelpie because he was my dog, my mate and I was lucky to have had him in my life.

Thanks to…

Thank you to Spearwood Vets (once again), for their kindness, care and compassion that was shown to Rocky, my husband and myself on that day and thank you for the beautiful flowers as well.

Flowers from our lovely vets – kept in the spare room out of Kevin’s reach of course

Sent to us by our vets – a lasting memory

Never too old for some magic

Posted on August 26, 2018 by Samantha Rose

Kev1

Kevin – he has carved his own place into our home, hearts and legs/hands/feet

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Brutus asks Rocky to stand by The Brutus Tree

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Today Brutus and Rocky were in the garden by ‘The Brutus Tree’ – which is Brutus’s favourite tree, the one he likes to stand under and gaze at for hours on end, especially when it is a full moon.

It all happens under this tree, doggy meetings, trying to pull next doors cat out of it, chasing rats up the tree, catching rats, staring at the tree because invisible dogs might come out of it. You name it, it happens under The Brutus Tree. Rocky doesn’t quite get the magic of it all but does enjoy chatting over a dog beer with Brutus under the tree while putting the world to rights.

It was a beautiful sunny morning in the garden, there was that smell of freshly cut grass mixed with warm sun and fresh air that makes you think that Spring is on its way along with excitement, rabbits, smelly bones, fox shit and opportunities.

‘Do you know what day it is today Brutus?’ Rocky asked his brother.

Without even turning round, Brutus cocked his head to the side, ‘Why yes, it’s Mum’s day off of course’, he said happily and carried on staring at his tree.

Rocky rolled his eyes, ‘Have another think about it!’.

Brutus slowly turned to face Rocky, ‘Yes of course I know, I just don’t want to talk about it.’ then shrugging, Brutus walked to his water bowl where he could be heard slurping up his water in messy great big gulps while Rocky looked on trying to decide whether or not to play with his tennis ball or chase the invisible dogs that frequented our garden.

‘Rocky?’ Brutus asked the little kelpie.

‘Yes Brutus?’

‘Come and sit by the tree with me.’ Brutus said firmly.

‘Why?’ Rocky frowned, ‘You are obsessed with that tree!’

‘Special things happen under that tree, you mark my words.’ Brutus said knowingly.

Rocky got up and went to join his brother where they both sat upright and focused on the top of the tree.

‘Why are we doing this, what will happen?’ Rocky asked him.

‘You will have to trust me on this one….’ Brutus growled. And with that, Rocky had to do just that.

Inside the house

I was making myself a coffee while taking frequent glances at Kevin to see what he was up to. His solid fluffy ginger body was wrapped around Rockys blanket. His back legs bicycling furiously as they kicked, Kevin repeatedly muttered stuff such as ‘Bollocks’ and ‘Death to all humans’ as he fought and won a nasty battle with the red blanket on Rocky’s bed.

Basically everyone was going about their business, it was a typical Sunday morning with nothing unusual about it.

I walked into the spare room which is meant to be an office but kind of looks a bit messy as other stuff has migrated into it. You know what it’s like, put it out of sight and it’s out of mind and your spare room fast becomes a home for things that have no other home but still gets called ‘the office’.

I took in the sight of the room and its clutter and remembered how it used to be. The grey plastic bed on the floor, the litter tray, the food bowls, the toys but most importantly, Gordon.

This was Gordon’s room, or at least it used to be. He loved that room as well, where as Kevin just didn’t like to be in it which is why we moved him to the front room so he could see the parrots and the dogs. But Gordon really loved his room.

Room

Gordon’s room after he crossed over to Rainbow Bridge – oh so empty!

Photograph by Samantha Rose)

I felt a lump in my throat, it was exactly a year ago today that we sent our precious Gordon to Rainbow Bridge and I remember it clearly as though it were yesterday. Driving along to the vets while playing Lion King – Circle of Life in the car as we drove our 15 year old majestic ginger cat to complete his final journey from London to Perth.

You can read about that here.

I still miss him and while it sounds daft to some, the gap he left in our house was and still is enormous. Kevin has not replaced Gordon by any stretch, but he has carved out his own place – both in our house, in our hearts, on our leather sofa and on my legs/hands/arms (with his nails).

‘I miss you Gordon, I miss you so much it hurts,’ I said out loud to nobody in particular. Biting my lip to stop myself crying, I walked into the dining room to see what Kev was up to. Spotting him playing with the blinds and shredding the shit out of the dining room chair, I smiled and went back towards the kitchen.

‘Well he’s a handful isn’t he? In my day we had more respect’ A ginger voice piped up from out of nowhere. A familiar ginger well spoken English ginger voice and one that could simply not be mistaken.

‘I said in my day we had more respect!’ The voice repeated loudly.

I felt my heart racing, taking a deep breath I turned round – Kev was still playing, oblivious to everything, he had heard nothing. I could no longer hear him swearing (Kev has Tourettes and swears like a trooper as you can gather). Kev’s mouth was opening and closing, I could see him mouthing the word ‘Bollocks’ but no sound was coming out.

‘Your eyesight is failing you, we shall need to get you a Labrador to guide you,’ The ginger voice laughed.

I quickly looked into the dining room again and there sitting on the orange sofa that was once his, was Gordon looking young, fit and handsome with his ginger coat looking thick and plush.

Gordon June 18

Gordon – making a guest appearance in my imagination

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Gordon, no way! I thought only animals could see each other once they have crossed over, I must be dreaming!’ I babbled and then promptly burst into tears.

‘Yes, well you always have been a bit special. What is it with you talking to the parrots in the morning, such a traitor – you can’t trust those galahs you know!’ Gordon grinned at me and then looked at Kevin who did not appear to see myself or Gordon.

‘You have been through the wars haven’t you,’ Gordon said as he weaved himself in and out of my ankles, ‘I have been watching you.’

I wiped my eyes and sniffed, ‘It’s been a tough year and Kev is hard work.’

Gordon laughed, ‘I could eat that for breakfast!’ he nodded at Kevin who continued to fight with himself on the floor.

‘I am so sorry, so very very sorry!’ I blurted out, and I was as well. Sorry for keeping him longer than was good for him, sorry for not doing what was right for him sooner and just, well sorry for anything I may not have done right.

‘You did what was right in the end and life is pretty good now you know,’ Gordon replied. ‘In fact, it’s rather marvellous, besides – I couldn’t have done it without that final cuddle.’

me and Gordon

That final cuddle to send him on his way

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Sitting beside him on the orange sofa, I pleaded inside my head that Kevin would notice us – but he didn’t or couldn’t.

‘He can’t see me you know, his time for seeing me is done and it is also his time to become the cat of the house. He has no need to see me.

‘This is your turn and you are exceedingly lucky to have it,’ Gordon explained and snuggled into me and added, ‘Not all humans get that chance.’

He had the same delicious ‘cat smell’ that I remembered, he felt so plush and soft, yet solid in build. His purr was loud and comforting it and his health was as it used to be when he was young.

We sat for what seemed ages chatting about Rainbow Bridge, about Rocky and Brutus, about Kevin and our lives as they are now.

‘Well I had better go now, I have a mouse meeting at Rainbow Bridge shortly and I don’t want that tabby down the road getting the upper hand,’ Gordon stood up, shook his tail and had a good stretch.

Oh no, it was going to hurt all over again and I simply could not stand it. ‘Do you have to go, can’t you stay long enough for the dogs to see you? Please, I will do anything!’ I pleaded with him.

Gordon yawned, his eyes focused on me while Kev still played and swore silently on his own and in his own world. As though an invisible yet unbreakable barrier separated us. I actually do not know who was in their own world, myself and Gordon or Kevin.

‘One last hug?’ I asked him.

‘Go on then!’ Gordon relented and allowed me to pick him up.

Gasping at his weight, he must have weighed over 7kgs, ‘I am in my prime don’t forget,’ Gordon laughed.

I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent, cradled his solid body, smoothed his fur and felt his purr as it rattled out of his throat.

(you will often find your cats/dogs will smell unique to you and have their own wonderful smell and if you don’t believe me, go and sniff them).

‘Goodbye my darling boy and thank you!’ I cried quietly into his fur.

‘No, thank YOU!’ Gordon whispered back.

My moment was rudely interrupted when a voice yelled, ‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? Have you got some kind of death wish?’ Kevin’s voice ripped through my ears like a child with a sinus problems (Kev sounds like a kid with bad adenoids when he meows).

What the heck? – Ouch that hurt!’ I opened my eyes just in time to feel Kev latch on to my arm and kick the shit out of it. I had been cuddling Kevin all along.

‘I do not DO cuddles – ever!’ Kev said looking absolutely furious. Then jumping out of my arms, he walked off taking his floofy arse with him and went into his litter tray.

‘No, I guess you don’t….’ I half laughed, half cried and wiped my eyes. Kev was in his litter tray muttering something about ‘shitting for Australia’.

‘Don’t know what you are looking so happy about, I’ve got turd in my pantaloons and you will have to brush it out!’ Kev hissed at me and took a swipe at my leg.

I walked over to the window and saw Rocky and Brutus under the Brutus Tree, still staring at it without moving or even blinking.

Outside in the garden

‘Are we done yet? Can we stop staring at the tree?’ Rocky said impatiently.

Brutus turned round and saw me looking at him through the patio door. I smiled at him, he looked so cute with his huge ears and big brown bum.

Brutus wagged his tail, ‘Yeah, I think we are done now!’

‘I still don’t get what is so special about that tree?’ Rocky shook his head.

‘It’s magic that’s all, it just makes things happen,’ Brutus replied as he admired his tree.

Later on

We were all curled up on the sofa – well we had given Kevin had a wide berth as he likes to attack feet but other than that, we were snuggled up about as much as you can with a ginger ‘kitten shark’.

‘Mum, can you believe that it’s a year today that Gordon left us,’ Rocky nudged me with his snout.

I smoothed Rocky’s ears down and told him that yes, I knew that and it is also coming up for a year that we bought Kevin home.

‘And don’t you forget it either! I could eat you all if I wanted to!’ Kev growled and then bit my foot hard (no really he did bite me and I have the scar to prove it).

‘Yeah and don’t we know it! I heard that you tried to eat the vet and the nurse yesterday when they tried to cut your nails!’ Brutus said to Kev before looking at Rocky and saying ‘He did you know and rumours have it, he tied them both up and cooked them for tea with nachos!’

Kev said nothing and looked somewhat smug curled up on his blanket with his beloved squeaky squirrel between his paws. He had found his place in our little family and he knew it.

‘Brutus?’ Kevin asked him.

‘Yes Kev,’ Brutus said hesitantly while trying to tuck his legs under him to stop Kev savaging them.

‘Can I ask you about that tree in the garden…..?’ Kevin replied.

Brutus looked at Kev with a surprisingly wise look for such a young dog, ‘It’s a magic tree Kevin and one day when you are old enough, I shall tell you all about it.’

And with that Kevin had to be content.

Magic – we all need a bit of it in our lives, it just helps the world go round.

The End

The Day We Walked With Gordon

Posted on September 19, 2017 by Samantha Rose

Gordon

Gordon

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Wednesday 23^rd August 2017

‘Will you walk with me Mum? You promised?’ Gordon asked me as we both sat on the sofa. His beautiful green eyes now speckled with age, his once 7kg frame now barely touching 4kgs.

His eyes bore into mine, searching for my response – almost pleading for it.

I bit my lip and hesitated. He was right, I had always promised him that I would walk with him right by his side and I was not about to let him down now.

‘We will both walk with you, one of us either side and will be proud to do it Gordon’ I reassured him, ‘Even if you did put your teeth through my finger that time causing me to have tetanus’.

‘Yeah, about that…….’ Gordon laughed.

Suddenly Brutus came running into the living room with his gingerbread man in his mouth. ‘What are you talking about? Is it me? Everyone always talks about me because I am nice!’

‘Not everything is about you Brutus,’ Rocky snapped at him and went back to reading his newspaper – ‘The Kelpie Times’.

‘Well I heard you saying about walking with Gordon so thought I might be invited’ Brutus wagged his tail and cleared the table of its contents in the process.

Gordon stared at him ‘No Brutus’ he said firmly, ‘Just no’.

Saturday 26^th August 2017

‘Mum! Mum! Why is Gordon wearing a tweed suit?’ Brutus yelled.

Rocky glanced up and saw Gordon standing there looking rather odd and if not out of place, wearing a tatty tweed suit – the type old people wear.

‘It is a day for tweed and I am dressed for that occasion’ Gordon replied as Brutus tried to clean his bum, ‘and one day my friend, you too will wear tweed’.

‘What occasion? I have never noticed that suit before either?’ Rocky looked puzzled and then after a few minutes, he realized what it was about and said nothing further.

Brutus stood there with his gingerbread man in his mouth, his tail had stopped wagging, ‘I don’t understand’ was all he said and then dropped gingerbread man on the floor and walked back to his bedroom looking confused muttering something about tweed suits, old men and mothballs.

A short while later

‘Where are you going? Can I come’ Brutus pleaded. ‘Are you are taking Gordon to the vet? You always take us when he goes, shall we get in the car now?’

‘Brutus, come and sit with me’ Rocky said firmly and patted the mattress on his bed to gesture for Brutus to sit down.

‘But we always make these trips as a family!’ Brutus started to bark and then realizing it wasn’t going to have any effect, he jumped on the bed beside Rocky.

‘I don’t understand’ Brutus repeated and nudged Rocky in the ribs for reassurance.

Gordon looked at Abdel and myself, he stared up at each of us ‘Will you walk with me now?’

‘Of course’ I replied and we took him to the car leaving Brutus with his face pressed up against the window wondering why he had been left behind. Rocky sat upright on his bed rigid like a bookend staring at us through the glass, as the car pulled out of the garage while Brutus repeatedly mouthed ‘I don’t understand’.

In the car

‘What are you doing?’ Abdel asked me as I grappled with my phone while trying to balance Gordon in his basket on my knee in the front seat.

‘Lion King – The Circle of Life’ I replied simply, ‘It reminds me of Gordon’. I turned the radio down and put Lion King on full blast on my phone.

‘Now that’s more like it’, Gordon laughed.

‘Do you remember when I got tickets to Lion King and held you above my head like Simba?’ I reminded him.

LionKing

Gordon – my very own Lion King

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Remember? How could I forget!’ Gordon replied. ‘I believe that this song was written for me’.

‘Yes Gordon, I believe it was’. I agreed and turned up the volume on my phone.

Feeling his ginger fur stick out through the wire squares in his cat basket, I smoothed him down and touched him, memorizing every single part of him.

‘How about the time in London when we had a guy round to measure up for blinds and he didn’t like animals. You jumped into his over sized laundry bag and all I saw was it shifting across the living room with you inside it.

‘I had to grab you and throw you across the living room before he saw you, and I managed it as well. He never did notice that you had damaged some of the stuff in his bag’. (This is actually true, it was in our flat in London)

Gordon laughed.

‘It’s not been a bad 15 years has it?’ Gordon looked up at Abdel and myself.

‘It’s been the best my friend, it’s been the best’. Abdel said quietly and carried on driving.

And in that journey to the vets we laughed, we talked, we played ‘Circle of Life’ as loud as we could while knowing that our very own Lion King was on the front seat of our car in his basket.

And so we walked….

‘Are we there yet?’ Gordon asked Abdel.

‘Nearly Gordon, nearly’ Abdel replied.

‘How will I know when I am there?’ Gordon looked at me.

‘Because you just will’ I patted his head.

‘Hold on a minute, I can see something, look at that over there – I can see towels hanging on the trees!’ Gordon shouted excitedly. His long slender ginger legs with pink toes like little beans, his nails gripped on to my jumper.

The finaltowel

The final towel – the night before Gordon left us, he didn’t eat it

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Gordon looked at Abdel and myself and then looked ahead of him. As if conflicted, he kept alternating his gaze between us, and what he could see in front of him.

As we got closer I could see a large white greyhound waiting at the gate. He wore a glamorous soft red martingale collar with a golden disk around his neck saying ‘Bowie’ on one side and ‘Gate Keeper’ on the other. Clutching a clipboard he was ticking names off and greeting various animals that were lined up to go in.

‘Hello there, you must be Gordon – I have heard all about you. You look very smart in your suit; it’s the perfect day for tweed! These must be your humans who I must say are jolly privileged to see this’, Bowie greeted him affectionately.

‘Will you come and make my bed?’ Gordon asked Abdel hopefully, ‘And put sardines in my bowl and smooth my head down?’

Abdel looked down at Gordon, not quite believing what he was seeing or what was happening. He rubbed Gordon’s ears and stroked his back over the tatty tweed suit.

Abdel.1

He promised he would ‘walk’ with him to Rainbow Bridge – and walk with him he did

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Sorry Gordon, your humans can’t go beyond this point, it’s not their time’ the greyhound said gently to Gordon who looked panic stricken at the thought of not being with us.

‘But they need me, and I need them’ Gordon protested, his long nails defiantly gripped my arms.

Bowie smiled, ‘I know my friend but they and you, are going to be just fine, I promise’.

‘Well I guess this is it then, you said you would walk with me and I guess you did’, Gordon said after a few minutes.

‘What do I do now?’ Gordon asked Bowie the greyhound.

‘There are some towels hanging on the washing line and they have your name on them’ Bowie encouraged him.

‘Maybe tomorrow, I am a bit sore today and tired, I am so very tired’ Gordon yawned.

‘Try it, you never know it might be OK’ Bowie nudged him with his long white snout.

Gordon nervously walked ahead and was surprised that his joints didn’t hurt him. There were several brightly coloured towels all clipped on a washing line and blowing in the breeze as though they were enticing Gordon to get closer and shred them.

Cats were scattered around on chairs, trees or just chasing butterflies. Some were playing with dogs, some were eating and some were having a catnip party and were off their faces on catnip while playing a game of poker.

I stepped forward to get a better look at him but Bowie blocked my way. ‘No further for you my friend, this is our world now and your place is with your boys at home. We have got this covered’, Bowie winked at me and wagged his tail.

‘Oh and Samantha?’ Bowie asked, ‘Don’t you tell the other humans what you have seen today, they will get jealous and we can’t have that now can we!’

Abdel and I took one last look at Gordon who started running towards the towels, he then looked back at us as if to get permission to chew them. The next minute he pulled a towel off the line and was bicycling furiously with his hind legs kicking the fabric, while shouting ‘bollocks’ and his tweed old-man-suit had been replaced by a luxurious silky ginger coat that tends to be worn by the young, fit and healthy cats.

I looked round at Abdel and then back towards Bowie and in that split second of looking away, Bowie was gone as was Gordon.

Back to reality

Abdel and I kept our promise to walk with him to Rainbow Bridge and that is exactly what we did.

Gordon had a cannula placed in his arm and then he was handed back to us all cuddled up in his blue blanket. I sat in a chair and he sat on my lap while my husband stroked his head and the vet crouched down to my level and told Gordon just how loved he was.

He went quickly, so very quickly – I knew he would, he was so frail and the moment he was removed from his basket it was like his illness and years had caught up with him. Gordon looked exhausted, he looked sick and had been holding it together in the home but once at the vets, there was no further need to do that because he was ready to go.

Once out of his basket it was like someone had turned the lights on and we could clearly see how tired and sick he was. It was no longer about our selfish needs to keep him, it was about his need to go on the final journey of sleep that he so rightly deserved.

me and Gordon

Goodbye my darling cat

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

His huge personality left with his little heartbeat, leaving behind his old body on the vet’s table. I cried that embarrassing sobbing that you can’t control that vets and nurses have seen so many times before.

Since when did he get so tiny, so thin and so frail? How did such a big cat with a huge personality get so small? I held him in my arms, we both did – he felt so small but still warm like he was asleep. Where did he go, where did you go Gordon, did we do the right thing? Why does it hurt so much and why do we feel so guilty?

Our hearts were breaking as we cradled our little cat of 15 years who we had brought over to Perth from the Motherland over 9 years ago. The cat that had seen us through the toughest times, the death of my Mum, some serious health problems, a few house moves, moving to Australia and when my husband was nearly killed in a car accident. Gordon was the one constant in our lives and whatever happened, he was there at home ready to bite us and shred the towels and say ‘bollox’ whenever we told him off.

Baby Gordon

Gordon aged 9 weeks old

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Gordon doing his time at Byford Quarantine in 2008

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Gordon and Brutus

A very special bond between Gordon and Brutus

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Empty Basket

We walked out clutching our empty white wire basket that we have had for years, in fact it belonged to our old cats Bruno and Juniper and I walked out of the vets with it empty when they crossed to Rainbow Bridge as well.

It was a painful drive back home; I kept the basket on my knee as though Gordon were still in it. He always travelled in the front and it didn’t seem right to put the basket in the back. I remember thinking that the basket would probably never get used again because no way could I ever face getting another cat – ever.

Rocky and Brutus

‘I still don’t understand?’ Brutus said to Rocky.

‘Brutus, when an animal goes to Rainbow Bridge it is customary for them to wear a tatty tweed suit and once they pass over, they regain their beautiful coat again along with their health’ Rocky explained.

‘Tweed suit? But Gordon was wearing a tweed suit this morning’ Brutus gasped, his eyes looking around the room for his brother.

dogs1

Photo taken the day after Gordon died – the quietest they had ever been

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Gordon! Gordon! Stop hiding, it’s not funny any more, come on Gordon, where are you?’ Brutus was frantic as he ran into Gordon’s bedroom to check for his brother.

Gordon’s grey plastic bed with his brown fluffy blanket and his stuffed reindeer in it remained untouched with all his other toys lying around plus a bowl of cat chow and a bowl of water from that morning. Although the room was full of Gordon’s stuff, it was empty of Gordon. I had to clean that room when we got back which was hard.

empty room

The empty room, too clean, too tidy and not right

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘He’s gone Rocky, he’s gone!’ Brutus cried and when the realization hit him, he kept howling even the calming influence of Rocky couldn’t console him.

Back home

Once we were back home I took the basket in to Gordon’s room and placed it on the floor and started crying again. There was a Gordon sized gap that had been left in our home and I knew that the animal dynamics were going to change because of it. I didn’t know how they would change, just that they would.

I suddenly felt a wet nose on my face as both of my boys came into Gordon’s room. They pressed themselves up against me and both tried to wash my face.

‘Don’t cry Mum, I don’t like it when you cry’ Brutus kept swallowing which he always does when he is nervous. Rocky rested his head on my knee, he said nothing but kept pressing his head into me and licking whatever bit of me he could reach.

My house was quieter, the dogs were out of sorts and I could now leave the bathroom door open without my towels getting chewed. Did I like it? No I didn’t, nice towels are overrated and nice towels are shit.

I missed my little cat, I couldn’t bring myself to throw his stuff away or even give it away; I just couldn’t do it. I bagged it up and put it in the spare room.

We had Gordon privately cremated – something I never thought that I would do or would even consider. For some reason I changed my mind and I am glad that I did because we get comfort in knowing that Gordon is still with us in his own way (he is on the bookcase).

In my stories Gordon swears a bit (as many of you that follow my animal stories will know), his favourite word in my stories is ‘Bollox’ – and that is how he spells it as well. So it seemed only fitting that we would have that engraved on the brass plaque on his box.

The vets also took some paw prints for us which is a nice keepsake as well and when keepsakes are all you have left, they suddenly become very important.

LionKing2

Gordon’s ashes – and that is just what he would say as well

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Pawprints

The vets took a paw print for us and gave us this lovely card with a handwritten message

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Pet Bereavement

I have been through this before many years ago but was hoping that at 50 years old, I would be older and wiser and how wrong I was, how very wrong.

I had also underestimated how hard this would be on Brutus as it hit him so hard that his grief was tangible. Just after Gordon died Brutus started to curl up outside his bedroom while holding his fluffy turkey in his mouth. He had started to vocalize and howl the loneliest howl I have ever heard a dog make, it was heartbreaking to witness.

You will have noticed that I have taken photographs of anything out of the ordinary in terms of my pets behaviour. You may not see what I see in the photos but it was there and I promise you that.

dogs2

Brutus curled up outside Gordon’s room

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Rocky is a sensitive little kelpie dog and that night we lost Gordon, he lay in the spare room with me while I made myself ill from crying. His slim black paws gripping round my arm and he had pressed his solid little black body up close to me, so close that I could feel his heartbeat. That is unusual for Rocky, as he normally likes to lie by my feet, but that night he patiently let me cry into his fur until I fell asleep.

I woke up at 5am and Rocky was sitting by the door to go out and he went straight to his bed and went to catch up on his own sleep. Animals are so special and I often think that some humans don’t deserve such loyalty and love that we get from our pets.

Getting used to things

When your animal grows older with you, you have your routine and you just ‘get’ each other. Your cat knows what you do and vice versa but once the cat (or dog) has left you, the gap is enormous and getting used to not having to care for that pet, hear or see it around is hard – very hard.

It was the longest week of our lives dealing with our own grief and by now Rocky, who had been sensitive to our own feelings, was now starting to exhibit distress from Gordon not being there.

It took several trips into Gordon’s room to get Rocky to settle and realize that Gordon wasn’t coming home. Brutus has taken even longer and still checks for Gordon to this day.

Brutus had a habit of stealing Gordon’s toys, in particular his fluffy reindeer. He always pinched it and would suckle on it and walk around with it proudly presenting the toy to whoever was around. The day Gordon died, Brutus stole this reindeer and brought it to my husband.

‘Don’t let him have that, we can give it to the new kitten’, my husband blurted out, looking protectively over Gordon’s beloved reindeer.

‘What new kitten?’ I asked him, he shrugged and walked away without saying anything further. New kitten? I don’t bloody well think so.

Never say never

It was on the Friday after we had said goodbye to Gordon and a colleague at work and myself had been looking on a pet rescue site, just looking of course.

‘My house is so empty without a cat’, I said to my colleague. We had always had a cat in our 26 years of marriage and have never once been without one.

‘That’s cute’, I pointed out at this tiny 7 week old rescue ginger tuxedo kitten from a pet rescue website. My colleague agreed and we continued to look at cats but I kept going back to this little kitten.

Later that night I showed my husband a picture of this kitten and to my surprise, he told me to email the cat rescue place to see if he was still available. Not expecting to hear anything back, I sent the email and didn’t think any more of it.

The words ‘We will never have another cat’ were fading fast in our heads, the ‘Gordon’ sized gap in the house was enormous and it wasn’t just a Gordon sized gap, it was a cat-sized gap as well.

The next morning Abdel and I had gone out for lunch when I decided to check my email. To my surprise the kitten was still available, asking my husband what he wanted to do, I left the decision to him but something inside told me that this was meant to happen.

‘Let’s go now and view him’, Abdel said with a flicker of excitement in his eyes. And after speaking to the rescue lady, it was organized that we could drive to her house to view the kitten and to see if we would be suitable as owners.

Seven weeks old and full of attitude

The first thing we saw when we were taken into the kitten room were several kittens but one in particular stood out and that was the unmistakable orange semi long haired tuxedo kitten that we had seen on the pet rescue site.

This tiny little chunky boy marched across the floor totally ‘owning’ it while shouting to his siblings, ‘Move out of the way you bastards, this family has my name on it’. Then walking up to my husband, he gazed up at him and said ‘Pick me up then!’

And in that split second, we knew our decision had been made and it was certainly not the ‘Never again’ type of decision either.

‘The name is Kuma, pleased to meet you’, the kitten said to me when it was my turn to hold him.

Kevin2

Kuma – now known as ‘Kevin’

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Hello Kuma, how would you like to be called Kevin?’ I asked the furious bundle of ginger who was trying to gnaw on my knuckles.

‘That’s fine, but my middle name is Bastard’, Kevin replied.

‘What do you think?’ The rescue lady asked me.

Abdel and I looked at each other and then looked at Kevin, ‘We will take him’. Then opening his wallet, my husband handed over the cash and we completed our adoption papers.

‘Catch ya later losers, see ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!’ Kevin yelled to his siblings and his Mum, who did a phone gesture with her paws saying ‘Call me!’

Fast Forward to now

Rocky has accepted the new baby and is also terrified of him, he won’t give Kevin eye contact but sits protectively outside the cat room when he hears Kevin crying. I have warned him that by being scared of him that Kevin will exploit that and launch a takeover of his bed and his food bowl. Rocky said he knows who is going to wear the trousers in this house and those trousers will be ginger so resistance is futile.

Brutus is on a very slow introduction as Kevin still looks like lunch/prey but each day Brutus gets to sniff Kevins bum while Kevin is in my arms and gets rewarded with food as we are working on a positive association with the kitten.

We always give Brutus choices and when Kevin is in my arms, there is usually chicken or some treats on the work counter in the kitchen that Brutus can have as a reward for choosing food over being over excited and too focused with the kitten.

Kevin got an ear clean from Brutus the other day which was cute but Kevin is far too small to be left alone with Brutus as Brutus is so big and clumsy, we are just being cautious.

Brutus still has to check Kevin’s room for Gordon and sniff the litter tray and we are slowly getting there but it will be a long while before Kevin is allowed to play in the same room as Brutus. We are lucky that we do have a cat room with lots of toys and we are so glad that we kept Gordon’s stuff.

Kevin’s cat basket belonged to our first cat Bruno, we bought that basket in 1994. The cat bowls are about 20 years old, we just pass them down from cat to cat and in its own bizarre way, we pass down the stories as well.

Kevin

The day Kevin came to us – note Gordon’s fluffy reindeer

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

At the time of writing this (19^th Sept 2017) Kevin is 9 weeks old, he is a sweet little kitten who has started to shin up our legs and use our torso as a cat scratch pole.

He is in to absolutely everything, chewing, trashing his crate in his room if he isn’t fed on time or fed enough. He will tip his entire bowl of food over if you upset him and dabs his paw in his water bowl and flicks it.

Yesterday I could hear the sounds of his bedroom being trashed and tiny paws skidding along the floor and a ginger voice shouting ‘Yeah, bollocks to everything!’ and ‘Gingers have rights too’.

Kevin3

Gingers rock! – according to Kev

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

A large bowl of meat and biscuit had been consumed, there were toys everywhere and Kevin was trying to convince me that every time I leave him alone in his room, a large ginger Tom cat appears and teaches him what to say and what naughty stuff to get up to.

The conversation went something like this – ‘Don’t be silly Kevin, I can’t see any ginger cat, you must be imagining it’ I tried to reason with him and told him that it is quite common for baby cats to pretend to see things.

‘But Mum, I am not I swear, there really is a ginger cat that appears on the clothes drier each time you leave me alone. It was him that taught me to chew the blinds and said you would like it’. Kevin protested.

Sighing, I shut the door – I had no time for this, I am finalising my book before it gets sent to the typesetters in two weeks. Large ginger cats in the spare bedroom – whatever next?

‘Told you she wouldn’t believe me!’ Kevin muttered after I had left, ‘Why doesn’t she believe me?’

A large orange tabby cat sat on the clothes drier, his coat luxurious and plush, his eyes a beautiful green colour, his puffy mouth that was begging to be kissed.

The ginger cat looked at Kevin who at 9 weeks old was tiny compared to him. ‘Don’t worry lad, she will soon believe you. Now, are you ready for tonight’s lesson – because I am going to teach you how to chew some towels’.

‘Towels? Really? That sounds fun!’ Kevin grinned, ‘By the way, what is your name?’

‘You can call me Gordon’ The ginger cat replied simply, ‘Now – about those towels…..’

Kevin and Gordon

Gordon lives on in the naughtiness of Kevin

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Thank you

Thank you to the veterinary staff at Spearwood Veterinary Hospital, Perth Australia for looking after Gordon for the past nine years since we arrived in Australia, he could not have been better looked after.

Losing a pet is hard enough but how their final journey ends in the vet surgery and how it is dealt with can leave a lasting impression on the owners – either good or bad.

To be given the time to chat, to cry, to say goodbye and have the vets and nursing staff show such genuine compassion and emotion, is not a skill, it is a gift because you simply cannot make that up, it has to come from the heart.

Dr George Jackson – you have an amazing and incredible team working for you. Your staff made that awful day for us so much more bearable.

And while we said ‘never again’ to another cat, you had better get yourselves prepared for Kevin and before you say anything, yes he is a bit tubby because if I don’t feed him when he wants, he trashes his bedroom and shreds my ankles.

These ginger cats can be so demanding you know.

Samantha

If you need help

Pet bereavement and grief is real and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It is never ‘just a cat/dog/pet’, it is YOUR pet so don’t let anyone tell you what to love or how much to love it either.

We have can’t believe how much losing Gordon has affected us, both my husband and I are still picking up the pieces and having intense moments of missing our cat and it is almost 3.5 weeks on.

All I can say is you have to acknowledge your feelings and ignore anyone that tries to dismiss what you are going through. Please be kind to yourself if you are going through this and if you do find yourself struggling to cope, don’t be afraid to reach out for help.

Help for Pet Bereavement

Never again or how soon is too soon?

I can’t believe that a week after losing my precious Gordon that we have another kitten. I was adamant that no cat would come into my home and take Gordon’s place and that I could not put myself through that ever again.

Then I had a word with myself and made myself face up to a few things. Firstly, when you lose a pet and you get another one, you are not replacing them in any shape or form. Each animal that you bring to your house is not replacing your old pet, it is creating a new space, new memories, it is a new personality that is going to make you laugh, cry, spend money on toys and treats – it is going to be different. No guilt needed, just giving another pet a chance of a loving home.

I realise that we as pet owners don’t want to put ourselves through that pain again, my goodness the thought of it still scares me, the pain that I am still going through and choosing to do it all again with another animal? I must have rocks in my head.

But on the other side of the coin, wouldn’t life be harsh if we only limited ourselves to loving only one animal and never allowing ourselves to have another? I don’t regret any of my animals that I have owned in the past, they have all given me love and memories to treasure and for that I am grateful.

Anyway, that is my update and I guess writing it all down and documenting the whole thing is more for my benefit really. I always express myself through my writing and this is no different.

If you are interested then you can check out this five minute micro doc about how we got Gordon to Australia.

Gordon’s Story – Get Gordon Down Under

The Pigaloo Diaries

The magical world of talking animals and my view on life

Tag Archives: Pet Bereavement

The Goodest Boy Has Landed

Saturday 6th August 2022 – At the Vets

Thursday 11th August 2022

The Results

Saturday 13th August 2022 – Bucket List

Bucket List Item Number 1. – Favourite Cafe and Beach Trip

Bucket List Item Number 2. – Petstock

Monday 15th August 2022

Bedtime

Waiting….

Time to go….

Breezy – Brutus’s sister

Rainbow Bridge

Pippin’s House

Kevin

As for the humans Brutus left behind

Acknowledgements

Boxers, Flappy Jowls and Canine Friendships

And then they got old….

14th December 2021

Later that day

15th December 2021

Rainbow Bridge

Dedicated to Vader the boxer

Petunia – Run Free and Climb High

A Dog Called Dash

Brutus and the Antique Dog Shop

Always Room for a Little One

The Day Brutus Found His Bark

Where Did You Go My Friend….

Never too old for some magic

The Day We Walked With Gordon