A Heartbreaking Farewell to My Four-Legged Best Friend
I’m sitting here waiting for the call that every pet lover dreads. Our 16-year-old dog lives with my mum, but I still think of him as mine. His name is Wags, and he is gravely unwell.
Wags has been slowing down for a long time. Now, he can barely walk. I went to visit him today. The silence was deafening. There was no barking, excitement, tail wagging, or warm welcome. Instead, he stayed in his favorite chair and opened one eye.
He’s better than yesterday when he sat staring into space. Yesterday, we felt he was close to the edge of the Rainbow Bridge. Today, there’s hope. He can walk a little and eat a bit — the signs we’re searching for.
But we know it’s coming. We’ve been here many times before.
I’m an only child. Dogs have been my brothers and sisters.
Dogs have been family members all my life. Wags has lived longer than all of them.
We had Tinker, a crazy border collie/cocker spaniel cross. A car accident left him with three legs, but he never let that slow him down. Every year, we went to Scotland, and he climbed the mountains with me and my dad. His bravery and determination amazed us all. He died at age 11.
We briefly took care of Bluey the Yorkshire Terrier. He had been abused by his previous owners and had all kinds of health complaints — from epilepsy to a hole in his face. I’m proud to have given him a few months of peace before his untimely death aged 8.
We then had Bertie, a randy Yorkshire Terrier. His previous owner was old and no longer able to look after him. He died at 8 and was buried with his favorite toy — a Stiletto shoe.
Our one and only female dog was called Sammie. She was a West Highland Terrier who loved long walks, nibbling at my feet, and playing fetch with socks. She died at the age of 10 while we were on holiday in Scotland.
We bought Wags and another dog named Scally together. Scally was meant to be a pure West Highland Terrier, but it turned out he was part Jack Russell. He loved to find ways to escape the garden regardless of how high my dad made the fence. My favorite memory is my dad thinking he had built a foolproof fence. Scally watched him build it and then jumped over. Tragically, Scally died aged 5.
Wags has outlived them all. Yet that is little comfort now. I remember being a kid and feeling terrified about my parents dying. I reasoned that if I could make it to a “really old” age, like 40, I’d be able to handle it. Well, now I’m 43, and I still dread the day when my mum dies.
It’s the same with Wags. I’m feeling the same pain now as I would if he had died 10 years ago.
Wags supported my mum after my dad died.
My dad died in 2019, and my mum was forced to live alone with Wags for the first time.
Despite sinking into grief and depression, Wags kept my mum going. She had to get up to feed him, he demanded 3 walks per day which got her out of the house and talking to people. It gave her exercise and purpose.
Although we meet daily, Wags gets her through the nights — keeping her company and sleeping beside her.
She’s even told me she talks to him at night and tells him he has to stay healthy for as long as possible.
The walls are closing in.
The love of a pet is unmatched.
In 2010, I was at the peak of my depression. In August of that year, I was an inpatient at a mental hospital.
About a month before that admission, I was lying on the floor, wracked with mental and physical pain, doing what I always did — watching TV. It was late at night, the only time I ever felt peace.
Wags was meant to be sleeping, but that night, he came to me on the floor and brought me a toy. He dropped it right in front of my face.
Some dogs do this all the time when they want to play, but for Wags, it was rare, especially at this time of night. I stroked him and threw his toy for him to fetch. He walked over to it and brought it back to the same spot. This time, he nudged it closer to me with his nose.
You may not believe this, but I have no doubt about what was happening. He didn’t want to play. He wanted me to have his toy so I could feel better. He understood that toys bring him joy, and he saw me suffering.
I know my dog and what he was doing that night.
I hugged Wags and even thanked him. We then roughhoused for a bit, which is what he enjoys most. As I think back to those golden times when we used to run around and play together, it hurts me deep inside. I know that no matter what, those days are gone.
That memory of Wags helped me more than any therapist. It was a true expression of love that only comes from animals.
Over time, Wag’s joy and love for me continued to help with my depression. My recovery is partly because of him. As today may have been the last time I see him, I told him so.
Is the pain worth it?
Every time our dogs die, I question whether it’s worth it. Dogs don’t live long, so heartbreak is guaranteed. Is the 10 years of joy worth the suffering?
As I await the dreaded call, I can definitively say it is.
In a world where humans are a constant disappointment, nothing has made me laugh or loved me as unconditionally as Wags.
No one has ever been as happy to see me as Wags.
No one has ever been as content as Wags. All he needs is food, water, love and games.
People can’t be perfect, but dogs can. If I were a religious person, I’d say dogs are a gift from God. How we treat them is a reflection of who we are. A dog wants nothing more than to serve and love you.
Lessons from a beautiful dog.
With all my heart, I hope that Wags picks up and lives a long time. But right now, I’d be happy if he made it to Monday.
Regardless of how long he lives, I will be with him until the end. It’ll be a comfort if I can repay him with even half the kindness he has shown me.
Wags has made me a better man. He’s taught me so much:
Always greet your loved ones
When someone is having a bad day, just be silent and sit with them
Enjoy the fresh air
Stop pretending to be something you aren’t
Play daily
Enjoy attention
Avoid biting when a growl is enough
Dance when you’re happy
Appreciate the simple joy in a walk
Be faithful
For those of us lucky enough to have a pet, the secrets of happiness are available to us every day.