IT had been so sudden and unexpected! She ate well! Annoying the owners of Bailey and Duke and Blue and Babe and Dodger and Diesel, she’d race them along the length of their fences providing one and all with a run for their money to the accompaniment of barking from every other dog in the vicinity.
Her twin, Pixie and she insisted on running free indicating “You’re only one year our senior! How would YOU like to have to be on a leash?”
I could see their point and must extend my apologies to the many motorists who’d had to slo-o-o-w down! (Now, where other than in a Village Of The Elderly would one come across such indulgent co-operation?)
When monkeys were in the area the two girls would excitedly tear off after them. So many visitors to Margate had photographed the pair sharing an ice-cream cone outside Wimpy-on-the-beach. (It had been suggested they appear on Margate’s Tourism brochures)
She was a beautiful little girl. Blonde with a mauve tint to her thick wavy coat and the long furry plume she’d carried with such pride. I’m glad I kept a small packet of her tight curly bloomers.
Never barking if there was a noise outside, she’d give a feminine high pitched squeal to leap into her 5’2″ ‘s mommy’s protective arms. She slept on the foot of my bed at night and when I awakened in the morning she’d greet me waving that plume to lick my nose.
Those golden eyes spoke so explicitly. Possessing a wonderful sense of humour, she found me most amusing when I’d turn to enquire “Where are my eyes?” Indicating specs. ( I’m sure many of you are possibly familiar with that djinn that takes a devilish delight in tormenting us?) Her eyes positively glowed with humour. Wagging her tail she’d say “Ma’s really getting old!”
That Saturday morning she would not/ could not stand to have her leash put on. A neighbour if took us down to Dr Sylvi Weitz who once again attended to us. Finding no white blood cells in her blood she’d turned to me to say “You have a very sick dog here.”
Proceeding into the ultra sound room I was told to look at the screen. A large tumour covered Honey’s liver and Dr Sylvi ominously said “Its starting to move across the other organs. It’s inoperable.”
According me some fifteen minutes to say “good bye” Dr Weitz returned to euthanase my dog. Honey was afraid to leave and resisted, gasping three times for breath.
Her twin is missing her. Very early in the morning she cries and I’ve actually been aware of Honey’s presence.
Adieu my baby! I’m sure we’ll meet again one day!
My thanks are extended to Betty Cartwright, (my neighbour) and of course, to Dr Weitz, Michelle and, last but not least, to Simphiwe (fellow Aries). Thank you one and all for your considerate and kind support.
GAIL ALLAN
