My beautiful boy has gone. Arthur was so many things to me. All of them wonderful and all of them irreplaceable. Never ‘just a dog’, he was my soul-pup, my child and my friend. It seems only right that the end of our journey together should be shared here. If only to immortalise him for as long as people read this post.
Despite feeling so very sad. I don’t want this to be a downhearted post. Arthur will always be part of my life and he is and will always be a force of love. I need to try to remember that.
The Story of Arthur.
We adopted our boy from a local rescue. Mr SV had set his heart on a dog and despite my huge reservations and objections to the plan. I don’t ever really need convincing on anything furry. Chris spotted a small dog called Arthur on the rescue website and we arranged to go see him at his foster home
Is it Laffy or Staffrador?
We were expecting a small, golden dog. The type that could curl up on the sofa, that would happily adorn the backseat of my tiny car. I will never forget those gorgeous eyes turning to look as I walked into the living room.
He was undoubtedly of the Staffordshire Bull Terrier variety, but not quite.
He was bigger, staffier and more lovable than we could have imagined. I fed him treats as we learned of his origins; Arthur came from a dog pound in Bradford. The rescue had gone there to collect a different dog and discovered that Arthur was next to be euthanised. He was skin and bone, he had been found on the streets and was aggressive to other dogs. He’d served his time and it was about to be up. The rescue couldn’t leave without him and Arthur lived with a few foster families as he was fattened up, de-flead, wormed and neutered.
I want the unloved, the unfit and the unworthy. That’s my calling.
Arthur was clearly part of this group and he was destined to be ours. We arranged to collect him the next week for his trial period. His foster family had nick-named him ‘Farfar’ on their little boys inability to say his name and it kind of stuck. Especially as Mr SV can’t say ‘th’, ‘ Farfa’ and ‘ Arfa’ were often called down the garden during his life.
Arthur had been returned various times to the rescue by past adopters. The culprit always being his hatred of other dogs. We were determined to make sure he had found his forever home.
We were in love with him from the first moment we met and he had indeed found his forever home. He had his foibles, all of which made him all the more lovable. His hatred of other dogs and cyclists. His fear of sheep, the way our cats bullied him and his bin-emptying and lunch stealing obsession with food. He was unique and incredible and during his five years with us, he and I became inseparable. Wherever I was – he was. He would come to bed with me, rise with me and guard the bathroom when I took a bath. He would sniff under the front door when I went out, waiting to greet me.
He always suffered with severe ear and skin allergies. At some point in his pre-stray life, he had endured surgery to remove his ear canal, but sadly, his allergies continued to flare. He had several close calls with his health, but he always pulled through. His life of long-term steroid use resulted in Cushing’s disease and a scan revealed a huge mass on his liver. Even if he beat the odds and made it though the night, he wouldn’t have an easy or a very long journey left. We had known for a while that his health was failing, but, it didn’t make it any easier to handle when it came.
The end is still too raw to go over. I promised him I would stay with him until the end and I was so happy that I could fulfil that promise. I got to say goodnight to my golden boy one last time. He closed his eyes for the last time as he always did, spooned and loved and smothered in kisses.
I hope his dreams will be as sweet as the time he gave me.
Thank you to everyone that messaged and left comments of love. He truly deserved it.