You know I don’t often write posts that are *too* personal on my blog although I have no problem sharing personal things which are relevant to what I’m talking about, such as mental health or self care. But I wanted to write this little post just for my own benefit, really. But perhaps someone else who has lost a dog recently might relate and find comfort in it, too.
On July 13th of this year, we lost our beautiful, funny, silly, loud, sweet boy Rory.
He was 11 and a half years old and had been with us since he was around 5 months old. He ended up with us a little unconventionally but I think that just marks what an unconventional dog he was because boyyyy, he was.
I don’t want to go into too much detail about his final few days but basically, he had kidney failure and started deteriorating quite quickly over the space of 5 or so days which apparently is common when kidney failure is at the degree he had it.
We followed our wonderful vet’s advice and did everything we could have (and should have) for him but it was obvious that the disease had gone too far (without anyone even knowing – as he was so “normal” for so long) and there was nothing else to be done.
So we had him put to sleep in the afternoon on July 13th. He was ready – we know he was ready.
Although this has been so incredibly hard for all of us because he was LITERALLY the center of everything that happened in our house, it gives me great comfort knowing that we honoured his wishes, right up until the very end.
It was that human and dog bond and understanding that makes no sense but you just know is there. I’m sure anyone with a dog will understand what I’m saying.
My Dad and I went into the room with him and stayed with him the whole time. He had kisses and cuddles and was sitting in his comfy bed (his favourite place in the WORLD) with a soft blanket over him.
It was quick – ever so quick – and painless. And I’m so glad I was there with him until the very end.
We’ve had his ashes back to us and have a little table set up in our living room with them on, along with a candle and a plaque with an engraving. We were adamant that we wanted him home – because being lazy at home (and eating treats) were his favourite things.
Rory came to us in September 2011, after one of my old friends texted me and told me that a friend of her Mum’s was looking after this dog on her farm, did we want him?
It was a bit abrupt so I asked what kind of dog and my Mum and I went to see him. Sure enough, he was being kept on a farm, in the company of a horse called Jimmy. His previous owners couldn’t keep him, they didn’t even want any money for him.
As soon as I said the words “he’s so cute, we can’t leave him”, we knew that was it. We owned a dog. So we took him home with us. We had absolutely NOTHING for him so my Mum had to run round to Pets at Home to buy everything, whilst I stayed at home and looked after this dog who was absolutely CRAZY.
I’ll admit, the first year with him was… difficult. He was very naughty. After 2 or 3 weeks, my parents were even considering taking him to Battersea because they couldn’t manage how active he was!
Luckily they didn’t and we finally fell into step with each other. Sort of.
What followed was 11 and a half years of Rory being the center of attention. Endless woo’ing, too much barking, constantly wanting treats for doing the bare minimum, chewing endless pairs of slippers, taking up all the room on everyone’s beds and stealing the hearts of everyone he met.
Everyone loved Rory – he was such a character. He made lots of friends during his walks that we loved meeting whilst taking him for walks. Friends that I’m sure will have noticed his absence.
One thing’s for sure is that despite how heartbroken we are right now, we will NEVER forget this funny, fluffy, ridiculous little animal.
He truly was one of a kind, always rocking to the beat of his own drum.
He made us laugh, made us cry, made us rip our hair out in frustration and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Goodnight sweet Rory, I hope you’re having a blast over Rainbow Bridge <3