Tag Archives: death

The Purpose of a Dog

This story is found on the internet in a number of places and it seems to be something of an urban myth. But it’s popular because of the sentiment behind it and is always worth sharing.

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog’s owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.
 
I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn’t do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.
 
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.
 
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker ‘s family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker’s Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ”I know why.”
 
Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I’d never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.
 
He said,”People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?” The six-year-old continued,
 
”Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”

Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.
Speak kindly.
Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy.

Take naps.
Stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
Be loyal.
Never pretend to be something you’re not.
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!

Life after Buddy

This article (Hounded by Grief), courtesy of the WBUR, Boston’s National Public Radio station, starts with the haunting words:

I am dogless.  Again.

Boston journalist Anita Diamant pictured with Buddy at Good Harbor Beach in Gloucester, Mass., winter 2013. (photo by Ms Diamant)

Boston journalist Anita Diamant pictured with Buddy at Good Harbor Beach in Gloucester, Mass., winter 2013. (photo by Ms Diamant)

For all of us who have loved a series of dogs, including a special ‘heart dog,’ I think some of the words will resonate with you.

Kathleen Crisley, specialist in dog massage, rehabilitation and nutrition/food therapy, The Balanced Dog Ltd, Christchurch, New Zealand

In Memory of Denali (a fitting 1000th post)

****Warning****   For anyone who has loved and lost a dog, this video will bring you to tears.  It certainly did for me.  But I couldn’t think of a more fitting 1000th post for this blog – a tribute to the human/dog bond.

This short film is about Denali, photographer/cinematographer Ben Moon’s dog, and their life story together.

Kathleen Crisley, specialist in dog massage, rehabilitation and nutrition/food therapy, Canine Catering Ltd, Christchurch, New Zealand

 

Losing a father

I have often felt that Daisy and I have a lot in common.  She likes purple (in fact, her collar is purple) and so do I.  She likes ice cream and so do I.  She’s  eats red meat – and guess what? – so do I.

Today, however, we have now another thing in common.  We have both lost our fathers.

The phone call came through this evening.  Shaka was ill this morning and with very low blood pressure.  The vet thinks he may have had a tumour that finally overwhelmed his system and she said that he wouldn’t recover.  There was really no choice but to put him to sleep.

When I told Daisy about it, she went out in the yard and wouldn’t come in for a while.  This was most unusual for her, particularly because it had started to rain and she doesn’t like getting wet.   I think she understood but some people will say I am anthropomorphising her behaviour.    All I know is that I was upset and, usually, if I am upset then Daisy wants to be at my side.  This time, I think she needed some time to herself.

I am grateful that Daisy only saw her Dad two days ago; he was a kennel dog and she was in kennels thanks to a business trip.   As it turned out, it was their last chance to play together.  I am also grateful that for the better part of the last three years, Daisy was able to visit Shaka every week for day care.  Her day care arrangements ceased earlier this year when her day care provider moved farther out of town.  Still, she and Shaka saw each other whenever Daisy needed a kennel stay or when I massaged another dog at the kennels.

Shaka was a ‘cool dude’ and I’m certain that Daisy inherited her placid nature from him.

Here are photos taken in 2007, at Daisy’s seventh birthday party.   We both think he was a very handsome and distinguished dog.

Shaka won best dressed at Daisy’s birthday party in 2007 with this tuxedo.

Daisy and her Dad in a family photo, taken at her 7th birthday party

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kathleen Crisley, specialist in dog massage, rehabilitation and nutrition/food therapy, The Balanced Dog, Christchurch, New Zealand