It’s a beautiful Spring-like day, warm with just a few fleecy clouds. But is also a very sad day hence this Blog which is devoted to only one subject. Yesterday evening at 7.20 our dear, beautiful, sweet-natured, gentle dog, Sweeney, quietly and peacefully drifted off into that long black night. She never appeared to be in any pain and Michael the vet assured us it was best to let nature take its course. Chris confirms that even though it is quick, the deed when performed by a vet can be very distressing. What we never realised was that it would take quite so long. For nine or ten days she refused all food, even when liquidised to make it easier and the last two or three days she even refused water. Consequently she was so thin that, from being quite a heavy girl, she weighed practically nothing. Had we known it would take so long we might have called in the vet but that is hindsight.
We put her on her snuggle in the woodshed over night and this morning we buried her. Even now, writing this, I find it hard to control the tears. She was a part of our lives for nearly sixteen years and it is hard to believe she is no more. It seems like only yesterday Douglas and Chris brought this little black puppy home to Hollings Farm from the Halifax RSPCA. She was a birthday present for Douglas and I remember it so well. The previous day I had chosen another dog as a possible, a lively bouncy thing but, when Chris and Douglas went to look they thought this particular puppy would have lots of offers of a home, which indeed was the case, and they saw this quiet little number sitting right at the back of the cage and decided on her. Never was there a better choice. And I can see so clearly our English animals two dogs and two cats sitting in the cages at Heraklion airport waiting to be picked up and brought home here to Vamos; and what excitement it was that day. Sweeny adored having visitors and always greeted them with her rubber ring in her mouth in the hope they would throw it for her. It didn’t happen because they were kindly asked not to throw it in the courtyard, but outside in the garden or up the lane, Sweeny would run forever chasing it as she did down the hill at Hollings Farm. She was growing very deaf and beginning to lose her sight but she could still sniff out wherever the ring had bounced. Then one day, I threw it for her, she stood beside me and, if she had been human, without a word, she turned and went back into the house. It near broke my heart.
She was always a very quiet dog. In all her life I can’t remember her barking more than a dozen times even if others were barking around her, but now she never made a sound. Seventeen months ago we thought she was going to die and dug her grave (the one we buried her in today) in readiness and one night I even laid down a plastic sheet and wrapped her in blankets built a tent over her and left her there quite convinced that the following morning I would find her gone. But no, there was this little black figure sitting some distance from her tent, facing away from the house. I left her there and about an hour later she arrived in the house looking for her breakfast.
The last couple of months she really did start to go downhill with age: deaf, blind and incontinent so that she had to wear pampers or we had to clean up the mess; not too bad on tiles that can be mopped, not so good on carpets. But for all the nuisance that it was, we loved her dearly and now she has gone.
We have decided there will be no more animals. The heartache is too much and, as I for one grow too old, it would be unfair on them. Whether we stick to that decision or not is another story but I don’t think there will ever be another Sweeney.