A Testimony To A Friend – The Death Of A Pet

Whiskey, the teddy bear of my birth, the loss of a pet so loved by me.

All pet owners have experienced the demise of their pets, why can they not live the same length of years as their owners? Heart breaking, to say the least. Dogs can live between 15 and 20 years before moving on to where ever they go, leaving behind a family with memories.

In my many years of life, I have had many dogs, my first, as a gift from my father when I was born. Not the proverbial teddy bear for me, a live, wire hair terrier, six weeks older than me a puppy. I have no memories of the early years, but the times I had with the dog that I can remember! Recollections of a friendship, times spent together, games played, walks and hunts undertaken all memories never forgotten.

His name was Whiskey, allocated by Dad, accepted by me, without any explanation asked. As a youngster where I went, what I played, or chewed on, all shared with old faithful. Whiskey aged as I did from pre-teen to teen he never appeared to get old, and if it was not for the loss of his teeth at the tender years of 12, his age would never have shown. No one in our family would have had Whiskey put to sleep, he merely went on to the food of the aged. Mincemeat and porridge covered in gravy his daily sustenance. Yet there was one regret, he needed chaining, you see Whiskey was a fighter, and toothless, he stood no chance, so relegation to the back yard, his fate.

A wire 30 metres long, spanned between two trees, with a pulley, and swivel, designed by my father, gave Whiskey the freedom he sought. I, enrolled in boarding school, only saw him on holidays, and whence arriving at home for these holidays, my first stop would be to greet him. He always showed such pleasure and joy as if he expected me. Off would come the collar and for the ensuing weeks of my holiday, Whiskey my constant companion. Dog fights and cat chases, swims in the dams all shared together. The tears shed at the start of school when having to put the collar back on. The explanations I gave him, the promises I made, all discomforting to me, but a lick on the face and a wag of the tail told me he understood, and would await my return.

I progressed to senior school, and in my third year, the month I was to turn 16, I came home for holidays. On arriving at home Mom warned me Whiskey was looking his age. Words I did not want to hear, I rushed to the back, and there was my dog, as pleased as punch to see me. He rose to meet me, with the barks and the licks and I refused to notice, not as agile as usual. For the first time, I left him tied to his collar, with a promise to free him in the morn, you see, I had a date and did not want him with me.

Getting home later that night I called round to see him to say good night, Whiskey was not himself, he lay and looked at me with yearning in his eyes. The wish for a game and a pat on the head, not enough for him to rise, reality of time had caught up with my friend. I sat down next to him and he placed his head on my lap, I sat stroking and reminiscing with him till 4 am when he peacefully passed on. At sunrise my father came round the corner, he'd noticed my unused bed, to see the sight of his son cradling his dog long passed.

My Dad, not known for emotion, a hard man with a soft heart, merely joined me on the ground to say his goodbye. I'd spent the night talking to an old friend, and having shed a good tear or two, was all cried out, but Dad in his way, without a word or a tear, left me sitting knowing what I was going through.

Whiskey received a burial in a place of peace in the garden, never forgotten and always visited by me, till I left the country. God bless you old friend, till we meet again.