Brodie Kane has just lost one of the loves of her life, and if you’ve ever had pets, you’ll get it. Even though we know it’s coming, and we sign up for it again and again, the pain of a pet’s death is devestating, as she’s just been reminded of…
Welcome to TBH – To Be Honest – Capsule’s column with old mate, Brodie Kane!
For her previous columns, click here!
I got my first dog when I was ten. We named him Baz.
He was picked out of a litter of six by Mum and my brother and he was supposed to be a Staffy crossed with English Bull Terrier, but a dad Labrador had got into the mix, so instead, he was a lab crossed with English Bull Terrier – a black lab on short legs.
He was a real character. A cheerful and cheeky little mate who was with us for 16 years.
He, without fail, got two walks a day. Didn’t matter the weather or the time – even if the late at night walk was down to the end of the driveway and back. Baz changed the way we lived our lives. Baz changed our whole lives.
He died when he was 16 – he had a wonderful life and a fantastic innings – hilariously, it was after he chased after a lady dog in his old age that he would actually not recover from, and Mum took him on that dreaded one-way trip to the vet. He’s buried next to the cat (who hated him but secretly enjoyed him) with a beautiful rose at our family home where we grew up at Waikuku Beach.
Six months later, Mum and Dad knew the time was right to get another dog. They went down the road to Dog Watch Sanctuary Trust – a remarkable charity that rescues, cares for and rehomes dogs that have been abandoned at pounds throughout Canterbury, or surrendered from private situations.
They were just about to leave and, next to an energetic young staffy girl – a distinguished gentleman was sitting upright, like a good boy, quietly staring at Mum and Dad. Dad said to Mum, “have a look at this guy”. Well, that was that. Connor, the 10-month-old Border Collie X with potentially a few other bits in him, was to make Waikuku Beach his new home.
He was an extremely kind, extremely gentle, if a little anxious, boy.
At the same time, he was the most energetic dog you would’ve ever met. For example, he trained with me through my first three marathons. I remember on more than one occasion, finishing a three-hour run back at the beach, only for this guy to find the nearest stick and bring it to me with great enthusiasm – as if the past 30 kms hadn’t happened.
And if it wasn’t a stick, it was a pine cone on the way home down pine cone lane, or a slobbery tennis ball in your lap sitting outside at home. The dogged determination, even if you told him no, he was persistent, just in case you changed your mind. Hey, more often than not you did.
Even as Connor Dog (the additional name Dog was introduced by my nephew John when he was about 3) grew older, the energy didn’t wane. Ever.
He was the toughest boy, too, who masked pain so well. He had terrible road sense – he got hit by a car once and true story, dusted himself off and trotted away unscathed.
My mum and dad split, and I’m sure they won’t mind me sharing this but Mum who, as she was was with both dogs the leader of the pack, said without hesitation “I’m having the dog you can have the goldfish”. Sidebar: Muzz still had quality time with Connor Dog after this!
Connor Dog, like Baz, got my Mum through some of her darkest days. A constant companion, she was lucky to have them, but they were lucky to have her.
Mum and Connor Dog moved up to Auckland as we bought a house together, and he had his last two years as a big city boy. He adjusted well and quickly established a new routine – even if it meant being on a lead a bit more.
He had an operation to remove a cancer just over a year ago – we thought then “if the cancer is everywhere, he’s too old to have treatment and be put through the ringer” – but the vet rung and had lopped the cancer off and he was ready to come home, cone on head. He made a quick recovery, and the vet often described him as the strongest, fittest old dog he’d ever met.
As the good boy got older and slower, a bit more blind and a bit more deaf, it was always in the back of our minds that we would know when the time had come. We would not let his quality of life deteriorate, this beautiful distinguished gentlemen – like all other good boys and girls – deserve their dignity. Still, two walks a day. Sticks, pine cones, and the occasional tennis ball he’d find at the park.
So, even though you’re ready, you’re not. Even though you know you’re going to outlive your mates, nothing can ready your heart for what happens next.
Even though, when we knew right away last week that his health had very quickly deteriorated beyond repair, that we would be taking him to the vet to give him his peace and dignity – no amount of knowing you’re doing the right thing takes away the pain you feel, because you’re about to say goodbye to your best mate.
Mum and I both sat on the floor with our beautiful boy as he peacefully slipped away.
It was time for the good old boy to rest his tired legs and go hang out with Baz, with unlimited sticks and unlimited pine cones.
These little four-legged wonders leave a massive hole in your heart. You sign up knowing you’re destined for heartbreak, grief and sadness. But you sign up for all of it time and time again because the love, the loyalty, the companionship, the looks, the endless adoration, the pure joy they give you in their short lives exceeds all of the heartbreak. All of it.
Our house is awfully quiet, we miss Connor Dog terribly. I hate not hearing the cliippety clop of his feet across the wooden floors, I hate him not greeting me with joy when I get home, I hate that my mum feels lonely, I hate that he’s not here.
But, what a privilege to have had 14 years with him. What a privilege to have him in our lives.
The qualities of a dog – that unconditional love, loyalty, and a capacity for living in the present genuinely make us better humans. We are lucky to have them.
So thank you Baz, and thank you Connor Dog for 30 years of pure joy. I know there will be another good boy or girl when that hurt fades enough away – because who wouldn’t sign up for that kind of love again….
