Bessie 29 May 2001- 10 November 2017

Those of you who read my posts from time to time might remember our beautiful dog Bessie and the hurdles we faced moving her from Malaysia to Saudi Arabia.  Aged 15 our brave girl survived a near mortal illness and the advance of old age to make her way to us, finally arriving with our other dog, Perdita, on Christmas Eve.  She suffered a stroke on the journey and we were worried that she would not last long but our vet reassured us that she had a year to go.

Bessie took the challenge, within a few days she was walking again and enjoying life with her family.  Still very much top dog she brought endless joy to all of our lives.  That said over the last month she started to sleep even more than was usual and quite obviously felt in a lot of pain, much of the time the dementia that had started to creep in during our time in Malaysia was very evident, she often knew me and Master EE but no one else.  Her once beautiful fur was sparse and hard to keep clean.  We spoke with our vet who promised that he would try to find a lethal injection (they are strictly controlled here and home deaths are difficult to arrange) The weekend before last she seemed to be her old self again.  She knew the whole family, ran around the garden with gusto and seemed to be taking real pleasure in life. 

We thought this was probably a swansong and we were proved right.  On Tuesday last week she collapsed in the hallway and was unable to get up without assistance.  We made sure she was comfortable while we tried to sort out the necessary end of life arrangements.  We were able to spend the last few days ensuring that someone was always with her.  A hand on her head, a comforting word in her ear.  She had (turkey) ham to eat and we poured our love into her.  The night before she died I slept with her on her bed, my head with hers the way we used to when she was well enough to jump on our bed at night. 

She died on Friday morning, my hand on her face and my forehead on hers the way it was at every vet visit, Mr EE holding her paw.  We wrapped her up in a white tablecloth and placed her in the bottom half of her travel crate (with live animal stickers that tore at my heart) for transport to her grave.  The children came home and picked flowers to place over her and put in her bowls and her favourite ‘Mr Mallard’ toy.  She is now at rest under a tree in a stable yard.  A peaceful and happy spot for our beautiful girl.

Bessie was with us from the day after we returned from Honeymoon more than 16 years ago, she moved with us to four different international postings, she adopted Perdie and Kismet and loved them as her own.  We have had her so long that we don't even have any digital pictures from when she was a puppy, they are all, old fashioned film photos in family albums back in the UK.

She was one of the greatest joys of my life.  A support when times were hard, unconditional love, my very best friend.  The children have never not known a life without Bessie, she loved and guarded them from the moment they came home from hospital.  They don’t quite know what to do and watching them grieve makes our hearts break all over again.  Kismet the cat, a clever creature knew the moment Bessie died, she climbed into the crate with the body to say her goodbyes and has stuck very close to us ever since.  Perdie, who is not clever, didn’t understand what had happened at first but has grieved for the dog who raised her ever since.  She has been extremely clingy and has had a fair few accidents in the home.

Life will establish a new normal, we will have to learn how to get along without Bess but there will never be a moment in time when we do not feel her absence in our lives.  We are so profoundly grateful to have had her for 161/2 wonderful, magical years and looking at the pictures we have of her we see they radiate a wonderful joie de vivre.  I know I will see her again, her fur long and shiny, her nose wet and her tail wagging exuberantly.

The Power of the Dog, Rudyard Kipling

THERE is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie—
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find—it’s your own affair—
But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!).
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone—wherever it goes—for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long—
So why in—Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

   Posted to the Animal Tales Linky hosted by the lovely Rosie.

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Sweet Sixteen

Bessie celebrated her 16th birthday a short while ago. Very few dogs live to see such advanced age, she was born so long ago that we did not even have a digital camera at the time.  The few, precious, photos we have of her as a put are in albums in our storage container.  After our long separation and her health worries last year we never thought she would not see her next birthday.  When she arrived in Jeddah in December last year we thought she had joined us only to say goodbye.  Since then she has shown how strong she is, she lives for the moments when the family are together and she can be with us all, she visibly deteriorates when people travel abroad, perking up again as soon as they get home.

People who see Bessie now see a dog that is bent and bowed, who has hardly any fur and whose skin sits in wrinkles on her hunched and skinny frame.  She was a beautiful dog in her prime and to us she is beautiful still.  Our honeymoon puppy, the dog who has followed us around the world  and who has helped to care for all our children.  Happy birthday to the very best dog in the world.

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Senior Dogs

Our expat dogs have been with us a few weeks now and have settled back into family life very well indeed.  Our house is finally a proper home again. Given the rigour of their journey one of the first things we did was register them with a local vet and arrange for them to have a once over.

Finding a good vet abroad can be difficult.  I had spoken with a local animal shelter and some friends with dogs and they all recommended the same man.  We went with him; luckily given the state of Bessie's health, he does house calls.  We were a little worried when, on observing Bessie, he told us she did not have long left.  We knew this, we explained, and we wanted to make sure that she knew him and vice versa so that she was not put to sleep by a stranger when the time came.  Not to worry, we were told, she could have up to a year longer.  This cheered us up no end.

One of the things I have noticed is that, in many countries, vets and those who care for animals are much more reluctant to advise on euthanasia than those in the UK or Europe.  Probably because they see animals often treated as a commodity, more akin to a convenience or a working animal as opposed to a cherished pet and family member.  We have found it very hard to get good guidance on how to assess when the time will be right to make that very hard decision ie when it is best for Bess and not out of convenience for us.  It is not something that we want to do, nor is it a decision that we want to rush but we do want some guidance on what aspects to consider when making it.  It does not help that neither Mr EE nor I have been at home when parents' dogs have had to be put to sleep so we have not observed the 'tipping point'. Friends and family in Europe and Hong Kong who have had to make these sad decisions have advised us on what changed in their pet to make them decide that the time was right.  Memorably and kindly a vet friend of a friend took the time to write and reassure me.

As the days have gone by we have become more and more confident of our decision which we are basing on a combination of gut instinct and the following points:

• She is not in pain;
• She takes pleasure from her environment;
• She takes pleasure from her food;
• She takes pleasure from her family;
• She is not passive in those pleasures, she seeks them out.

In her first week home Bessie gave us a lot of scares.  She was getting stronger and then, suddenly, one day she became incontinent, unable to move at all  on her feet and crawled into a corner. With tears streaming down our faces we decided that, should we not see any improvement the following day, we would call the vet in.  The next day she was better.  This week she is better still, she can't get up on her own and needs support to walk on the tiled floor but once up she can manage a wander around the carpet and choose where to curl up.  She needs support to get out to the garden but once there the support straps (improvised from wide, soft leather belts of mine) are a back up only.  Her bedsores have also healed enough for me to allow her to spend some time asleep in the garden without worrying about her getting bothered by flies.

She is still very much a key family member.  A few days ago Miss EE had a bad argument with her brother while they were out playing and stomped home, tearful and upset.  She went to sit with Bess, stroked her for a while then told me she was in the wrong and was going to apologise.  Master EE spends a lot of time sat with her, just talking and petting her head.  As Bess can no longer come upstairs to bed she sleeps in the hallway.  The first thing everyone does when they come down is to greet her and pet her.  During the daytime and evening we lift her onto a sofa in the living room so she can be with us all, there is enough space for Perdie or some humans to join her, or for her to be on her own and snooze if that is what she prefers.

Bessie's co-ordination has improved enough to allow her to wag her tail and she actively nuzzles for attention now as opposed to just looking doleful when a hand is removed from her head.  The other pets still defer to her as 'top dog' and Perdie is returning the care and love she was given as a puppy by grooming Bess from time to time, even, on occasion, trying to entice her to play.

We are facing the joyful reality that she may be with us for a while.  As we had resigned ourselves to a few bittersweet weeks only this is a great relief and very much worth the back pain we have both developed from having to help her move around. We will have to make a few adjustments to our daily lives. It may mean that we will not be able to travel abroad as a whole family for the moment, we certainly could not kennel her, it would be too cruel and I would worry about getting someone in to look after her, firstly she is hard work.  We have to lift her and walk her outside four times a day and she is a heavy dog.  She is less coordinated than usual so she has to be cleaned every day to catch the stuff she misses, her medication is extensive and confusing.  I know how I would feel if someone's pet died while they were in my care and I had to dispose of the body (there are limited options here in Jeddah), I would feel awful.  No matter how much we would reassure someone it was ok and expected my guess is they would feel terrible and we could not do that.  We will have to see what happens and how things go but we remain so grateful that we have the chance to make these decisions.

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The Best Gift In The World

Readers who have popped by this blog more than once will know that when we left Malaysia to move to Saudi Arabia, our pets were not able to follow on immediately.  They stayed with our vet, a good friend who took on their care for us and we blithely hoped that our two dogs and the cat would be able to join us in a few months time.

Home at last

Sadly the import process was beset with delays, none of which were anyone's fault really but were intensely frustrating.  For example the first permits were issued within 6 months but did not get to us until they only had 3 days validity to go, so not enough time to sort export protocols in Malaysia.

Bessie, our older dog and Kismet the cat got their permits in late August and were due to join us in September.  Bessie, who at 15 years old is most definitely a senior dog, became very sick in KL and I had to fly back to Malaysia as we thought she would have to be put down.  Our wonderful vet drove all the way down from Ipoh after work, took her back home and nursed her better for us.  We will never be able to thank her enough.

No longer an only pet... and annoyed to boot.

Kismet, thank goodness, made it home OK and has enjoyed her status as a solo pet for the last 4 months.  In December we got the news we had been waiting for, the permits had been issued and we started export procedures in Malaysia.  Given our previous experience our vet decided that it would be better for the dogs not to board in KL but for her to do all the export permit work in Ipoh with the documents couriered to our handling agents in KL to arrange translations and shipping.  We had a few false starts but on 23 December the pets were put in a truck and taken to the airport, scheduled to arrive in Jeddah on the morning of the 24th.

On the way...

Given all the delays and problems we could still not quite believe that the pets would arrive in Jeddah and, of course, nothing quite went according to plan.  Delays and scheduling issues meant they did not land until the early evening.  We spent the day tracking flight paths on our phones, desperately worried about what the delays would mean for their connecting flights and checking in with the cargo office in Doha.

The flights did land of course, and as soon as they were taken from the plane into the pet handling area Mr EE got them out of the cages for a walk and some water and they were overjoyed to see him.  Bessie, however, was so weak that she was unable to stand; this obviously gave the handlers some concern and they expedited the dogs' release into our custody.  30 minutes later, at about 10.30 at night, the dogs finally made it home, 1 year and 22 days after we left them.  Mini EE had fallen asleep at her usual time but Master and Miss EE had stayed up to greet them.  Perdie launched herself back into family life with an ebullience that was a joy to watch.  Bessie, sadly, was so tired from the journey that she could do nothing more than lie there.

Recovering

When I had last seen Bessie she was very ill indeed so her condition was no real shock to me.  The others, however, had left her as an old but healthy dog.  As she tried, and failed, to nuzzle and lick us all they started to realise just how very old and sick she now was.  Her back legs, cramped from the crate, would not support her, she had no control over her tail, for years our reunions with her had been dominated by a wag that started at her nose and shuddered through the length of her bdy, now she could only twitch the very tip of her tail.  Her long and beautiful fur has been cut very short in order to help keep her clean and she had bedsores from the crate.  We worried that we had put her through too much stress, had been too cruel and brought her home for our own reasons.  Had we seen someone else with a dog like this we would have counselled them to put her to sleep.  As we sat there with her, however, her head nestled in each lap in turn we realised that she was happy to see us.

Getting stronger

We gave them a quick wash and some meat and then let them roam in the garden, Bessie supported in a sling under her hips.  She quite obviously enjoyed being outside sniffing the grass and her legs started to remember they could walk.  Back inside Mr EE and I settled her on a fluffy bath mat laid on a thick foam playmat, sent the children to bed and sat with our pets, their return the best gift we could ever hope to have received and knowing that our family was complete once again.

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Kismet Comes Home

I wrote, recently, about the awful experience we had with our older dog Bess.  She is still in vet care in Ipoh but is getting better and stronger all the time.  Our vet hopes to move her back to her own home soon. 

While I was in Malaysia I was able to spend some time with our other pets, with Perdie at the vet’s home and with Kismet just a few hours in an office in KL before her flight to Jeddah.  She flew a few days before I returned home and because Mr EE was at work she spent her first few hours in Jeddah in the corner of his office.  We were worried this would stress her but she seemed quite happy to be among people.

Kismet is settling in

We put all her things in a small room, our plan being to allow her her own space to settle in and get used to the family again without being overwhelmed by all the people in the house.  We had instructed the children not to fuss her and to leave her to settle.  We needn’t have worried one bit.  Kismet sniffed at a few bits and pieces that had been in the house in Malaysia and went straight to the sofa to sit next to Mr EE and lick him to pieces.  She clearly remembered him and was keen to re-establish family bonds.  She was happy to see the children but wary of Mini EE who has grown an awful lot since they last saw each other.

She has settled into family life as though she has never been away

When I arrived a few days later I found a house with a cat who behaved as though it had always been her home, which, of course, it has.  Our family has been her home since she was a little kitten and she clearly does not mind about the gap.  Within minutes of my arrival she was sitting on my knee and purring her distinctive, loud, motorcycle impression.  We know dogs remember people they love for their whole lifetimes, we were worried that cats would not.  Clearly and happily, we were wrong.

As the days have gone on Kismet has become more independent and less clingy.  She has always been a house cat and although she enjoys looking outside we are wary of letting her out incase she gets into a fight.  For her part she talks, through the window,  to cats that visit the garden but has not asked to go outside.  She slept on our bed the first few nights, chasing our toes as we slept and curling up in the smalls of our backs.  As time has marched on she prefers to sleep downstairs and do the rounds of all the bedrooms for a few minutes every night. 

She talks to the local cats

Keeps us company in the evenings

As a house full of dog people that just happened to find themselves with a cat Kismet has exceeded all our expectations as a pet.  Clearly, unlike the dogs, she is self sufficient and has not suffered from our absence in quite the same way.  She loves us but does not need us.  She is, however, genuinely good company.  She talks to us, sits with us, plays games and makes us laugh with her antics.  8 months older than when we had to say goodbye in Malaysia the worst excesses of kittenhood are past and she is a calmer (though still mischievous) cat.  Mr EE was away on a trip for most of last week and her presence in the house made the evenings far less lonely. 

Makes sure that we don't forget to pet her

and keeps us warm at night

People here, both expats and locals told us we were crazy to spend money importing a cat to Jeddah when there are so many here that we could adopt and then leave when we leave.  We don't agree, we made a promise to a little lost kitten that we took into our home, we promised that we would be her home for the rest of her life and nothing short of a disaster would make us renege on that promise.   Kismet has come home and her presence has, in turn, made our house feel more like a home.  We had not quite realised how empty it was until she came to fill the ‘pet void’.  We now need to try to get the papers in order for Perdie and, if Bessie is strong enough, get the certificate reissued for her so that we can finally be together again.  

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Jimmy the Nigerian Dog

I love all my pets but some hold a very special place in my heart.  Jimmy, the dog we rescued from servitude as our guard dog in Lagos is one of those.

When we met our blonde beauty he was so filthy we thought he was black.  He spent his evenings patrolling our garden perimeter with his handler and his daytimes locked in a wire cage.  During a census in the 1990s he was required to stay over during the day as no unnecessary movement was permitted on the streets.  My mother approached him and, finding he was a friendly dog, washed him, only then realising that he was not black.

When movement was permitted again he went back to his employer's cage.  The following evening my parents were furious to see the dog turn up black with filth once more.  They refused to allow him to return and purchased him from the guard dog company.  Closer examination showed that none of his front teeth were whole, they had been kicked to stubs, his ribs had been broken and reset many times and his tear ducts never stopped weeping due to some damage a blow had done to his eyes.

Jimmy in Nigeria

It can be almost impossible to turn an abused working dog into a pet but Jimmy settled in as part of the family from day 1.  He learned to love us and to love his new life and when we left Nigeria he came with us, to the Netherlands, Turkey, the Netherlands again and finally Venezuela.  Jimmy was endlessly loyal.  One time, during a security training exercise when he thought my father was in danger he made a noise fit to wake the dead (he never, ever, barked unless there was trouble) and we found he had almost chewed through a thick leather training lead.  How he managed to do this with the worn stumps of teeth we will never know but we could not get him to settle until he saw my father was safe. He had an unerring nose for cannabis, his 'trainers' had often beaten him when high and he had very negative associations with the smell of the drug.  It made for some interesting encounters with teenage American tourists in the Netherlands.

He was one of the most intelligent dogs I have ever met, he hated injections and would limp theatrically for hours after visits to the vets.  His mental powers never, however, were enough to allow him to remember which side he had received the injection in and his 'bad' leg changed every few minutes.  Often allowed to accompany the family on trips to 'the field' he would sulk for hours if my father left the house in safety gear and did not take him in the car and he developed a love of fruit juice which he would steal from our glasses at any opportunity.

Jimmy gave us so much pleasure over the years but he never really recovered from the abuse he received in his early life.  He started to decline badly in 1999, rallying slightly when my parents adopted a little street dog puppy they found outside their house but fading ever more quickly as the year went on.  My parents made the heartbreaking final decision in early December that year and he was buried in the garden of our home in Maracaibo.

I have been scanning old pictures recently and those of Jimmy were some of the first I copied.  His picture now sits in my 'phone alongside Bessie, Perdie and Kismet.  Our beautiful, loyal, clever Nigerian dog.

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