I can't help wondering whether, if I had not rescheduled a scan that was due to take place before Christmas, whether Flash would still be alive, whether I could have saved him.
I asked Mr Whizz Top Vet Surgeon when he phoned me yesterday if there was anything I could have done, over and above what I had already done, and he knew what that was, and he said: "Not really." He just kept saying "It's a very sad time for you, don't rush things." I thanked him for looking after Flash. But I can't help thinking we humans fail dogs, whether I let Flash down, because he died before I could get the scan done, although we had been referred for one and I had just got the insurance pre-authorised.
I thought back (which I do a lot of the time now) and I realised that Flash had lost his bark and was too weak to go upstairs in the last few months. When he wanted to come in from the garden, he would give a kind of grumble. Both the vets and I thought it was being an older dog. But now I think the secondaries were growing on his throat and trachea. And what got me was that like a typical Border collie, he was running and playing in the park. He would play with or chase anything that bounced or moved. To the last, he wanted to keep training, the way we did at dog club. He looked alertly at me, with the same intensity as ever, for my instructions for a training game, the very last afternoon we were together in the park (Friday 14th January 2011).
Flash came of show stock, from the Avonmouth area near Bristol. Both his parents had been local show dogs. He and I did show and won some rosettes, and we did Agility and Flyball too. There is a dog handler side to me, too, I'm not a pedigree breeder, but there is a side to me that loves to show and handle an intelligent dog. So I've got this dog handling side, and both he and I loved to be in the ring, wherever it was, even just our local show. And he was proud to be with me there. He had also been bred for his temperament and gentleness with families and children and these became more and more apparent as he grew.
He, my mum (who died five months ago of secondaries related to breast cancer) and I went many many places together including several National Trust houses and gardens. One of us would go and see the house and gardens if no dogs were allowed and the other would play with Flash in the car park or take him for a walk.
I never knew a more dignified animal and just before he went I told him that he would always be my boy. I could hear the vet ambulance lady driver start to cry as she stood next to me. It seemed she felt his dignity too, even in his last moments. Also she seemed to sense exactly what he had meant to me. Amazing woman. I mean ok, she runs a business, but she held my hand in the vet ambulance afterwards. She put my aunts to shame, my mother's sisters, who never even attended my mum's funeral. When I called abroad yesterday morning to tell them about Flash, they said: "Didn't you take him to the vet then?"
Perhaps it would be more appropriate to say he took care of me. After mum died, he would be waiting at home for me. And now the house is empty.
I go to my local cafe and people ask me how my mum is. I haven't the heart to tell them she has gone and now Flash too.
As I write, I am researching a "green" burial for him, which would be more acceptable (and eco-friendly) to me than cremation. It would be a really dignified tribute to a dignified animal who was so brave even when he was in pain.
Here's hoping ......
