An Unashamedly Sentimental Story About My Dog
My dog died last night and I’m a wreck. He had a fit and then just faded away. We got him to a vet and they tried their best but it was just over.
This all started in April last year. My sister, her boyfriend and their friend found him on a dual carriageway. He was old and had been abandoned. He was in such a bad way they thought he’d been run over. We later found out this was just bad hip dysplasia, arthritis and neglect. They didn’t think he would make it through the night.
He was taken to a dog warden and attempts were made to find an owner. Dog wardens put the dog down after a week if no-one comes forward. No-one did. I was still living in London and my dad had his hands full with another dog. I begged him to mind Matey (so named because when Emma and Jack found him, they didn’t have a name to call him so Mate and Matey were all they had… it’s a good name for a dog) until I moved home in June. By the 2nd of July, he was ours.
We spoiled him rotten and never apologised for it. He was old. He’d had a tough time. We wanted to make the last little bit of it really special. Everyone who saw him out was smitten. We walked him twice a day every day and his legs improved so much that he could run, really bound, and eventually learned to jump up on to the sofa bed. That became his bed. He really loved that thing. He would often sleep in our bed and somehow take up all of the room. Oh yeah, he learned to climb the stairs, too. His favourite thing was sniffing everything. He used to make little pig noises and looked like he was searching for truffles. I used to call him Trufflepig… not very imaginative.
When we were in the house, he loved attention. He would knock a computer off your knee to get a pat on the head. But when we were out, he always played it really cool and aloof.
I caught him thinking once or twice. I know that sounds ridiculous. But he was sitting there looking off at nothing in particular and then, without anything changing, he’d wag his tail. Like he was thinking ‘Isn’t this lovely?’
Yeah it was. I miss you so much. All I want to do is cuddle you. That’s what I do when I’m upset and now I’m really destroyed and you’re not here to be hugged.
I need to wrap up now. This has been somewhat therapeutic. Matey, you weren’t the kind of dog to play fetch or do tricks. And you’ve never saved lives. In fact, one time I fell over on a walk and you didn’t even look at me really. You just shot me a look to establish why we’d stopped and just waited for me to get back up. So not a worker. But, you always pushed your way into the bathroom if I was being sick and curled up against me until I was done.
Rest in peace, my angelpup. I love you.
