A new friend comes to stay

Ragged, filthy, sopping wet, you appeared at our door. Unloved, unwanted, rejected, dejected, cast out into the harsh and unforgiving wilderness with no thought and even less care. Half-starved and thirsty, you shuffled and snuffled into our lives. Close to death, you could have given up but chose instead to carry on and seek out the next chapter in your life.

At 18 years old (we later discovered) you must surely have had a warm and welcoming home, a loving owner. How you came to find yourself without either, we will never know. Yet some kind soul took you in and handed you over to your savior, who brought you home to us for your final adventure. How could we have known how much sunshine you would bring into our lives?

Your bones were old, your sight and hearing poor and you were more than a little unwell, with no chance of recovering. Yet you deserved your respite and seemed happy to be with us. Sleeping much of the time, rousing for some love or a treat or to shuffle around outside. Happy to be led on a walk, you felt the comforting reassurance of someone by your side to guide you, accompany you, protect you. Off the lead, you tended to trot off and then find the nearest person to befriend, unable to distinguish between the shadowy two-legged creatures you could hardly see.

You didn’t have much energy and slept most of the day, like a curled-up cat in your soft, warm bed. Cleaned and groomed and fed and constantly fussed, you put on weight and started to liven up… well, a little at least. You built up enough energy for frequent leisurely walks out in the field or down to the local shops. You even broke into a trot every now and then, just to show that you still had it in you.

You ate your dinners, sometimes the cat’s, and lapped away at your water bowl, drinking your fill. You didn’t really know where you were and kept investigating the downstairs rooms and the garden, sniffing the other pets and trying to figure it all out. But you knew from the beginning that you could make our home your home.

We came to know and love your little grunts and snorts and all the other happy noises you made. The way you came to us to nuzzle and be stroked and patted and petted. Most of all you loved to curl up on your rug, delighting in the warmth and safety and most of all rest. For rest you needed after a long and weary life. Your energy waning, you started to find it harder and harder to keep going. Sleeping through more of the day, it was becoming clear that you were reaching the end of your days.

For six weeks you stayed with us, bringing your own kind of happiness to our lives, as we gave you our love while we could. It was all too much in the end and you just couldn’t keep going. You slept more and more and started to find it harder to get up and stay up long enough for even a little walk. You walked your last, grunted your last, snuffled your last, nuzzled your last, drank and ate your last. You had a last stroke and pet and nuzzle with each of us. Having slept and rested most of the day, you went quietly to sleep for the last time, safe in your savior’s arms. What better way to end a happy life?

Ami, we will remember you always.

Dedicated to the memory of Staffordshire bull terrier Ami, 2002-2020