I miss my little buddy...

It's already been over eight weeks since Rascal passed away. Eight fucking weeks. Like, where the fuck has that time gone? And how is it already becoming normal that he's not here anymore? Routines like feeding him at specific times or letting him out in the garden to have a wee and/or a poop; I'm just not thinking about anymore. It's weird. I don't like it. In fact I hate it.

What's also weird is how life just continues to go on despite something traumatic and sudden as what happened. At the very top of this blog post is the last photo I took of him, unbeknownst to me at the time. He's just laying down and sleeping in one of his usual spots on an evening after a long busy day of not doing much. He'd rarely want to sleep in one of his three designated beds in the house, one of which is visible in the top right of the photo. This was just a very normal activity of his, he liked to sleep a lot. Less than 14 hours later of this photo being taken, he was asleep forever.

12 hours...

It wasn't even two hours later that we knew something was seriously wrong. At 10:30pm, I decided it was time to head up to bed after an evening of rewatching episodes of Game of Thrones. My wife, Jade, had already gone up a while before. I think she was catching up on work, I don't recall. I let Rascal out in the garden for one last wee and then we headed upstairs.

Just as we reach the bedroom on the top floor, Rascal is breathing unusually heavy, then yelps loudly and proceeds to collapse on the floor. Not a slow lay down, but a complete side-on collapse. I'm only just recalling it now as I write this, but I managed to catch his head before he hit the ground. He's only a small dog so I'm not sure it mattered much, but my 6 years of being a dad to our son has given me what feels like Spider-Man reflexes at times.

In that moment though, my heart fucking sank. I remember immediately shouting in a broken voice, "RASCAL! No, no, no, no, no!". Jade and I immediately sobbing uncontrollably. I think we both thought he was dead there and then, but he was still breathing shallowly. I'm repeatedly saying "It's okay, buddy! It's okay!" as I lay on the grown next to him as if he could understand what I was saying. I was hoping it would give him some kind of comfort through this obviously traumatic event for him. For us.

In the moments after that immediate reaction, Jade and I are looking at each other, working out what we do. We needed to get him to a vet, like now, but we had our son sound asleep as he had been for the past several hours. Looking back now, I'm so glad this happened whilst our son wasn't around Rascal. At least that saved him from a disturbing core memory. Anyway, we decided to call Jade's parents to ask them to come over and sit in, which they did without question.

We get him to the vets. He'd even perked up a little bit amongst his usual nervousness about being at the places he dislikes the most. The vet on shift that night checks him over and says the scans they can do overnight aren't as good as the ones they do during the daytime, so after giving him some painkillers, and hundreds of pounds worth of emergency vet fees later, we take him home again, hoping that this was a one-off.

I was on edge most of the night. Not sleeping very much. And any I did get was very light. A good thing in a way as Rascal got up (again not from one of his designated beds but a chair in our bedroom) and collapsed again. I wasn't there to catch him that time. He was breathing irregularly again and I just knew in that moment that this was likely it. A day we've been dreading for a long time as he got further and further towards being an older dog.

Luckily again, our son wasn't awake at this point, but we knew he could wake up at any time in the next hour. So Jade rushed to get dressed and take him to the vets again whilst I waited for our son to get up. When he does get up, he immediately asks "Where's Mummy?" to which I explain that Rascal has been poorly overnight and she's taken him to the animal doctors. "Oh, okay... can I have breakfast?". This did make me laugh in the moment and I needed it.

Hours pass whilst getting updates from Jade about checks and scans he's been having. It was also getting closer to the time our son has his usual Saturday morning club, so we decided I would drop him off at his Grandad's house so he can take him there, and then I could join Jade at the vets with Rascal.

He looked very stressed out. It's obviously not an environment he wants to be in and he's been constantly poked and prodded. When I walk in though, he did look a little happier to see me.

Jade told me he'd collapsed another 4 times in the hours he's been there. The vet had explained from the scans they could see a lot of fluid around his abdomen and heart, and was showing signs of heart failure. She explained our options in regards to treatment but obviously there was no guarantee there would be any improvement. We had to ask the question we didn't want to ask, the one you ask to if it's kinder for him if we decided to have him put to sleep. She said that was an option if we want to go ahead.

We took some private time to have a discussion. We didn't need long. We didn't want to put him through loads of medication, procedures, and a load of additional stress when it was likely it wouldn't make much of a difference for him, and whilst he wouldn't have a clue why it was happening. We also really didn't want Rascal to have repeat episodes around our son, and to cause him that distress when he didn't need to see that and could remember him only when he was healthy. It wouldn't have been fair on either of them. We made the decision.

Despite that, we thought that our son should see him one last time. So it didn't seem to him like we decided suddenly that we didn't want a dog anymore. So he would be able to process exactly what was happening. We waited a short time for our son to leave his Saturday club early with his Grandad to come and say goodbye. That might just have been the single most difficult moment in my life so far, watching my son get upset and there wasn't anything I could really do about it other than try to comfort him, but at least he understood.

He kept saying "Is Rascal going to doggy heaven?" and "Is Rascal going to go across the rainbow bridge?". I'm not in the slightest bit religious, but whatever it took to comfort my son in any way was fine with me. We'd had talks with him previously that there will be a time when this might happen, but obviously he didn't understand then. After he'd calmed down a bit, his Grandad took him back to his house, and we told the vet we were ready.

They took Rascal away for about 10 minutes to get him ready. It felt much longer. I felt so sick in that moment. Knowing this was it. When they returned, it was going to be the last time we'd be with him.

In that time though, Jade's Auntie had rushed over to see Rascal for the last time too. She helped us on countless occasions to let him out at lunch times when we both had to be in the office and no-one was at home. She'd thought she'd missed him because he wasn't in the room, but we explain he was being readied.

The vet came back with him. Poor thing had the cannula in and was looking quite scared and we tried our best comfort him with praises in high-toned voices. The vet asked if we ready and we said we were, but I asked if we could give him treats as he crossed over. He fucking loved treats, more so than any dog I've known before. It comforts me now that in his last moments, whilst Jade was holding him in her arms, he was doing something he loved doing; eating treats. At the time though, at about 10:30am, it was gut wrenching.

Remembering Rascal...

The first few days afterwards were incredibly hard. Seeing him everywhere we looked at home. Having to deal with his stuff, deciding what to keep and what to throw away. The toughest thing for me was the blanket on the chair in our bedroom where he slept for the last time. That remained untouched for 3 or 4 days until we plucked up the courage to fold it away. We vacuumed packed that blanket and some other of his things, hoping that in the future we may be able to unpack them and remember the way he smells, and all the little hairs that used to get everywhere in the house and our clothes. They still do.

Eight weeks later, it's much easier to handle. Occasionally I still get upset, like just now when I was writing that last paragraph. But it is easier. We have a couple of places in the house and garden where we have setup memorials for him.

Here is the one in our living room. Rascal's remains are in the urn in the middle which has a paw print on the top. The painting on the left we had commissioned, and the painting on the right was made by one of Jade's very nice colleagues from work. The blue item is one of many crocheted hearts which are donated to the veterinary practice to give to owners of vets that pass. And above is a plaque also given by Jade's colleagues which says:

"When tomorrow starts
without me, don't think
we're far apart.
For every time you think of me,
I'm right here,
in your heart.
Rascal

And here is the one in our garden, right where he used to bark at the dog on the opposite side of the fence and pee. We went to the garden centre to look for a suitable plant. When we explained to the store assistant they asked what his name was, and then guided us to this plant called Red Rascal. We had to get it. It was perfect.

We also commissioned this memorial sign which used a photo of him sun-bathing, has cut-outs of flowers and says:

Rascal
2013 - 2026

Over first few days since he passed away, I decided I would write down all of the things around the house that reminded me of him. I didn't have a real plan for it then, but I knew I just wanted to make sure I didn't forget those little memories. Now I have this blog, I've decided I will share them here. I may add more in the future if I remember more. So here we go...

• The way he got excited with his smiley face, his tongue out and wagging his tail when it was time for his breakfast, lunch and dinner.
  • Similarly when it was time for his evening treat after our son went to bed at 7pm.
• The way he would bark at the door when the doorbell rang, or go to our son's window if he was upstairs (floor to ceiling window). It was a high pitch and almost deafening at times.
• The way he'd need to be told at least 3 times to go to his bed when he got under our feet or was scavenging for food. He'd be back out of his bed in no time.
• The way he'd whistle-whine when it was time for food or his treat.
• The way he'd have a bark-off with the neighbours dog and immediately pee on the fence, then scrape up the grass.
• The way he'd climb on me if I was laying down and commando crawl up to my chest.
• The way he would leave a trail of water drops when he'd drink from his bowl.
• The way his hairs would get everywhere.
• The way he'd stare back at me whilst having a poop in the garden.
• The way he'd start play-fighting when I pushed him over on the bed.
• The way he'd moan and grumble about going in the garden before bedtime. It was already his bedtime according to him.
• The way he was often the loudest snorer in the room.
• The way he'd always join in on a cuddle with me and Jade.
• The way he'd lick my nose if I got close to him.
• The way he used to lay his head down on the top of my arm and snuggle into me when I was laying sideways on my bed in the morning.
• The way he'd go into the food cupboard on the scavenge if the door was left open.
• The way we would always end up with his arse end when we were laying down.
• The way he would want to go out in the garden and stand at the door, but if it was raining he'd hold back.
• The way his feet would make a tippy tapper noise and he walks around.
• The way he used to sit around Jade whilst she cooked.
• The way he'd get out of his bed in the office and be ready to go downstairs when he heard my PC turn off.
• The way he would sit anywhere just to sunbathe in the smallest amount of sunshine.
• The way he would just take your shit whilst he sits on you, like dancing and bobbing up and down.
• The way he'd lick up crumbs off the floor during and after I've wiped down the kitchen surfaces.
  • Also after our son has eaten, or during if he can get away with it.
• The way he makes mini-barking noises in his sleep.
• The way he'd sometimes accidentally leave arsehole prints on the walls at his height.
• The way he'd want to lean/sit on me or Jade even if it was very hot.
• The way he'd immediately go to the kitchen if he heard a packet rustling.

Favourite Photos...

Thank you for reading if you've got this far. It's taken me weeks to write this, but I needed to get it done. I'm going to end this post with some of my favourite photos. I may also add more of these in the future too.