What should have been a week of laughter and late night chatter with the family didn’t start well. Gunner, the last of the ‘L’Horte Shepherds’, hadn’t been well over the weekend so I called the vet on Monday morning. It was his 11th birthday. Later that day the vet called to say Gunner had a tumour on his spleen and they were going to have to remove it. Tuesday afternoon and I knew what they were going to tell us – I’d been through it before, the cancer had spread everywhere. Mumo and I made the heart-breaking decision to let him go whilst he was still under the anaesthetic, I took Mumo over to the clinic so she could say her goodbye and I stayed with him until the end. Gunner was Pop’s dog, I’d given him as a present after my father had a serious accident. He came from the same breeder (and mother) as Macgyver and Chrissie, three of the best as we always said. Gunner lived to protect, he felt it was his job to look after every member of the family and their friends – he could be quite intimidating to look at if you didn’t know that he was a total softie inside. Now our darling boy will take his place along with Mac and Chrissie next to Pop at L’Horte, forever by his side. Look after him, Gunner.
My sister, Bong (it’s her nickname) and her family arrived on Wednesday, sadly for them they arrived the day after Gunner passed away. Having all of them here has been the perfect pick-me-up especially as the pool is finally making its money’s worth. All the water activity has been particularly delightful for Arry who adores my nieces Elise and Jojo, they provide so much more entertainment than me apparently. I don’t think there is better remedy for grief than children’s laughter and Arry’s happy shrieking.
Naturally I had to introduce Bong and co to the delights of Le Bistro nights with the normal Friday soiree changed to last night as it was the only night the band could do. Unfortunately they didn’t stay long enough to dance along to the sound of an authentic Romany Gypsy ensemble of musicians and singers, I think the language barrier particularly for my young nieces was a bit too much to bear and they needed a decent meal after all that splashing around with my crazy dog. I however joined the rest of Rouffiac, twirling and clapping along until midnight – I needed the release.
My little Bear isn’t well. After noticing his lack of energy and not wanting to eat his breakfast, I took Yogi into the vet on Thursday. His blood results showed elevated liver whatevers, I can’t tell you what because Arry ate the piece of paper with the results on. Then they did an echograph and showed me what looked like a mass in his stomach but couldn’t conclude anything. He has had a biopsy so we await the results next week but in the meantime he is on cortico-steroids which have picked him up a bit. Denis and I collected him from the clinic the following day and of course he totally ignored me, curling up in Denis’ arms instead. I am keeping positive, the vets say it could just be an infection so I’m sticking with that and the presence of Elise and Jojo has brightened him up no end. I haven’t told the little Bear that his favourite person in the whole world, my eldest niece Katie is arriving this afternoon. Nieces are the best medicine for not so well Bears…..
“There is no faith which has never yet been broken, except that of a truly faithful dog.” (Konrad Lorenz)
Widow plus woofs 