Tag: grief

Not Just a Dog

On By rlsmithwritingIn Random rants, Writing LifeLeave a comment

There is a unique bond between a dog and their person.

A canine can have a quiet solid presence lying by you on a sleepless night. They motivate you to get up in the morning and take time in nature. They teach patience and the true meaning of loyalty and unconditional big love. They make you laugh when you don’t feel like it, and introduce you to strangers. 

I had to say goodby to my beautiful, gentle big girl Harper on Tuesday evening this week. I am heartbroken but so grateful to have had her in my life. 

Harper (named after Harper Lee, author of To Kill a Mockingbird) was advertised on a rescue site in 2018 as a puppy destined to grow to a medium size. When I met her, the size of her feet made it evident I had been drawn in by false advertising, but it’s impossible to leave such a beautiful abandoned puppy once met. 

So Harper came home and I set out on a journey with a dog destined to weigh 46kg and stand around 750cm at the shoulder. As a puppy she was a mouthy monster, but a lot of socialising and dog school turned her into a well mannered but sometimes cheeky giant loved by all, and a pleasure to have around. When fully grown she was taller than me when standing on her hind feet.

Harper was a lover – of all people, small dogs, lie ins, bushwalks, bin day (for sniffing), rolling in fresh grass, her lifelong teddy, cheese, goldilocksing the most comfortable place to sleep, and wallowing in the river. Her interest in roadside drains led me to believe she would have been a drainage engineer had she been human.

The long legged supermodel of dogs, shaggy blonde Harper was a persistently cheerful adventure buddy. She knew how to get what she wanted through pure love and the strategic use of what I called the ‘magic carpet’, a mat near the back door that she sat on when she wanted something. And she was not averse to a little bossiness – about which walk we’d go on, or whether she’d received her quota of treats, or back rubs each day. 

She had a way of winning people over and the number of friends who came to visit in her final weeks is testament to her impact. One text I received encapsulates the influence she had in her short life:

Hey dear Rachel. You and Harper were on my mind all day, and I just wanted to send you our love. I am so sorry that you had to say goodbye to each other, what a beautiful relationship you shared. I am so grateful to Harper for being the reason we became friends, and for Harper’s ability to help our dog Ruby experience joy with another dog. Harper’s ability to create safety extended not only with Ruby but also to our son, who proudly has built the courage to give her a pat. With love and gratitude to you both 💚

I am grateful to the support I received from friends and Dr Alison the vet from Rest Your Paws who supported us in Harper’s final weeks. A lot of people and animal friends contributed to making Harper’s end of life journey memorable, and as joyful and comfortable as possible. One friend (and dog sitter) came to be with us in our final hours, and was a beautiful quiet presence. Another friend wrote a two page letter to Harper, a short excerpt follows:

Thank you for the joy you bring us. For the unconditional love. For being you – magnificent you, regal, oversize, for setting the pace with your elegant trotting on walks. Thank you for the way you lean into us to get a better back scratch, to show your affection.

And to all the wonderful friends who understand the grief of losing a furry friend, and that they are never with us for long enough, I am thankful for your love and wishes.

Most of all I am grateful to my soul dog Harper for teaching me so much, being faithfully by my side through some of life’s greatest challenges and constantly reminding me of life’s joy. You were worth every second of our years together. Thank you for your big love when I most needed it, you left a legacy that will last so much longer than your too short life.

RIP my sweet big girl Harper: 9 March 2018 – 11 March 2025 

old brown kelpie

Writing for the love of a dog

On By rlsmithwritingIn Writing Life2 Comments

As Queen Elizabeth II said, “Grief is the price we pay for love.” Lets face it the love of a dog is unique, as is their loss. If you’ve owned a dog you will appreciate the uplifting IMG_0450 (2)flutter of joy that comes with having a wet nose shoved in your face followed closely by a slobbery kiss and the crashing sound as a wagging tail knocks something off the coffee table. The bond is intense and unconditional.

I met the ‘brown dog’ in February 2003.  She was the flea infested runt of a litter we were told were labrador boarder collie crosses. A timid small brown moppet with a white waist coat, white tips on her paws and tail, and a look of surprise.

The labrador never did arrive, but luckily I loved kelpies and had owned one of these intelligent and tireless working dogs with the almond shaped watchful eyes before.

IMG_0088She came to be known as Jarrah due to her coat being the same color as the timber of that name with the hues of a Western Australian landscape. I did eventually suspect she may be a Western Red kelpie as that is the dog she most resembled.

The thing kelpies need most is a job. Jarrah and I went to dog training and practiced what were learned. She became my exercise coach, running or cycling with me daily and nipping at my toes to try and get me to go faster. At 15 years she was still running about four kilometres a day, if at a more leisurely pace. Playing with the frisbee was her favorite game as a young dog and she could snatch a frisbee out of the air two metres above the ground returning it again and again andIMG_0425
again. She was also fond of ‘helping in the garden’ and would test the depth of holes I was digging by dropping her frisbee into them to get my attention.

The intensity of kelpie energy is matched by the intensity of their loyalty and Jarrah followed me everywhere, making friends along the way by demanding opportunistic pats from passing strangers. Car rides were exciting adventures, especially when the destination was the beach. The ground where we live is to too hard to dig but the beach is perfect and Jarrah dug as if she was making up for lost opportunities.

I sweated through fifteen summers, refusing to turn on the ceiling fans because Jarrah was afraid of them. I went for a run on days I DSC00563didn’t feel like it not wanting to disappoint that pleading face. I missed her on long holidays even though I knew my friend was taking great care of her. As she got older and wanted to go out in the night I got up as many times as she needed me to, knowing I would wake up tired in the morning. All for the love of that dog.

As the vigor of youth dimmed into old age Jarrah maintained her desire to help out by supervising my work in the garden.  She no longer wanted to chase the frisbee but would interrupt me for a cuddle or to let me know she thought it was time to go inside and lie on the couch. IMG_0656

Sadly this week, as the fine autumn weather gave way to the first signs of winter that beautiful vibrant girl succumbed to old age. This afternoon the vet came and euthanized her and we buried her with her frisbee in a hole in the front yard where she loved to potter around. I will miss my old friend.

 

Images: the brown dog