Category Archives: Rufus

Rufus, an 11-year-old blue Bearded Collie. The best dog in the world. Gets his own area, being the dog he is….

They aren’t human and I thank goodness for that.

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I held him and stroked him even when he went to sleep.

Of course, the moment the decision was made, he seemed to be better. It almost made me change my mind. Almost. But I couldn’t bear the thought of him being at home, lying in his own shit, unable to move, in pain and upset.

He explained the procedure but I already knew. I took his collar off. What was the point of that? I stroked him as he went to sleep. I put my head near his and kissed him and told him that everything was OK even if it wasn’t. I stroked his body, not where it was just bone but where there was some sort of flesh, near his belly.

As he passed away, I thought ‘What if I should have kept him longer? Perhaps I should ask them to stop?’

But it was too late anyway. It was undoable.

I felt like the executioner even if it was right. Someone told us about a dog they had and they kept it in pampers for a while. I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t want that as a human but it just seems so wrong for a dog.

As we had walked to the place, I thought about how it was so much easier in the countryside, with a country vet. How much more aware they are of the life and death thing. The vets here, in the city, seem to pander to people who treat them as humans, with all the indignity it comes with.

He is free of pain now. The suffering continues only for those left behind. As always.

As I left I stroked his head, already cold now. I did it for me, I suppose, more than him. But I shall not forget him. V used to say that he was a gentleman. And he was right. I’m sorry that V didn’t see him before he went but, maybe, it’s better to remember him before he became just a skeleton, before he cried in the night through pain, before he would fall over just trying to do a pee.

And does Dino seem more quiet, almost sad? Or is that my humanising projection. I suspect it is. And, for his sake, I wouldn’t want him to be human.

Still, I miss the old gentleman dog all the same.

I’m concentrating on practical stuff.

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Everything’s kinda a bit fluid right now.

Having made the ‘decision’ and then being unsure, yesterday afternoon made the decision definite. In the end, I broached the subject with F. He asked what we would do with the body. I said I would leave it with the vet. He said no, we should have the ashes because Rufus needs a tome. Well, when he said it it sounded like tome but in fact he meant tomb, of course. Still, it made me smile – inwardly since smiling outwardly would have been very incorrect – and neither did I, on this occasion, correct his pronunciation.

But, in fact, he doesn’t mean tomb either. I’m pretty sure that what he wants is an urn with the ashes. It’s a concession I’m OK with.

He also told me that, when it comes time for Dino, I am not to tell him at all but just do it. Of course, Dino, he wants stuffed! Anyway, that’s 10 years away so who knows?

We are in Italy.

I woke up about 4 a.m. and couldn’t sleep. I got up and researched pet cremation in Italy. Surprisingly enough, it’s not that difficult. I found two places almost immediately. They collect, do their thing and return the ashes to you.

So, this morning, after I had taken them for a walk, I went to the vet. I had questions. Do they do a cremation and return ashes service? How much does it cost? If not or it’s too expensive, can they keep the animal while the other service comes to collect? How much does that cost?

Yes, they can do it but it’s very expensive – €400. No, they couldn’t keep it but they would give it back for me (to carry home – which is not ideal – dead animals always seem heavier, somehow). Just to do the putting down would cost €100.

I come back home and check out the services I had found last night. Yes, one of them costs €200 (plus €20 for delivery of the urn). They need 12 hours notice for collection.

So, the end result was €400 or €320 (with me carrying him home). I’m going with the first. F said he would pay but I won’t let him.

Oh, yes, and they can only do it on Monday. So, I will have to take a day off work. Ah well, it has to be.

I am so much more tolerant with Rufus now. He’s been getting treats. I let him off the lead in the dog areas and he’s allowed to eat kakka if he wants (it makes no difference now), we walk always at his pace (except when crossing roads if I can’t help it). He is getting lots of patting and stroking. He has been a wonderful dog. But he stays very close now. I think he has had enough, if you see what I mean.

But, is it wrong of me, I am looking forward to getting a new puppy sometime in the near future? I say it’s for Dino, of course. But, I think, secretly, it’s for me too. And, maybe, it’s also a way to look beyond Monday? Yes, I think it’s that.

The vet doesn’t think it’s a good idea to bring Dino too. However, I think I will. I want Dino to understand that Rufus is not coming home. Otherwise, he will always look for him. Like he looks for F.

I’ve emailed V and I’ll do it again. But I’m not expecting any response. It’s OK.

And we get to spend the weekend with Rufus.

In other news, yesterday, I finally got keys to F’s flat. This is a) just in case he loses or forgets his and b) in case he needs me to go there for something if he is away. And, I guess, because he loves me. From Monday, someone is coming to stay at his flat so he will be staying with me – for a month or so. In reality, of course, it makes no difference since he does, more or less, stay here all the time anyway. Still, it’s good that he is, although I’m possibly not as excited about those two things as I would have normally been but I think you can understand.

On being not sure.

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Of course, it’s all better today. In fact, it’s as if we have returned to several months ago.

And, this time it’s different. I have F to consider. And it’s his birthday today. So, not today then.

And I am tormented by the should I/shouldn’t I thing. As last time. But last time was different. I made the decision and wasn’t with F. It was more of a joint decision.

On the one hand, there is the fact that I am on holiday until the 9th. This means that I get several days with Dino before I have to leave him alone.

Also there is the fact that, should the same thing happen, for example, next week, it could be a whole day before I am able to clean up. And it would mean going to do it in the evening. Or taking time off work (which is not the problem – only that I would then have to go into work, leaving Dino alone) to go in the morning.

On the other hand – what if that were only a temporary thing? What if it doesn’t happen again for months? What if he keeps going until Easter? Until the weather gets warmer?

And now he seems more attached to F. And F doesn’t even want to think about it nor discuss it.

It makes my gut wrench.

It makes my heart bleed.

If only he hadn’t seemed much better this morning. No pees or poohs to clean up. Not even a pee until we got outside!

I have stopped giving him any medication and he seems even better.

Except, maybe, he isn’t eating. I’m not sure.

In fact, I’m not sure about anything.

Bugger!

Wonderful time and fantastic surprises.

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Well, I suppose I’d better start by wishing my faithful readers a glorious and happy 2012. And to say sorry for not posting over the festive period.

Christmas was, as expected, wonderful, even if I did wake on Christmas morning with what seemed like ‘flu. I ignored it. I felt much better by Wednesday.

So the highlights were:

The best present I got from F was not the vaporetto (steam cleaner) that F was so delighted with giving me but the snow globe with the pictures of the dogs inside. Don’t get me wrong, the vaporetto is wonderful but I think that if I tell you that F’s excited question (as if a small boy with a new toy) later on Christmas Day of ‘Shall we use the vaporetto now?’ you will agree that nothing more needs to be said.

V’s Dad phoned me on Christmas Day. It was such a nice surprise and I was speechless. They never phone. They hardly ever phoned when V and I were together and so it was such a wonderful ‘present’. His Mum phoned on New Year’s Day to wish me Happy New Year. So nice of them.

On Christmas Day we cooked together most of the morning and ate together most of the afternoon. I couldn’t have wished for anything better (well, I suppose I could have wished for no ‘flu – but I’m not complaining). We opened presents, we had fun.

Of course, not everything was perfect over the period. I learnt that he really doesn’t have patience and also that he really doesn’t like the fact that I won’t argue with him – but really! A light in the bathroom, overcooked lentils, not being able to fit the roasting net over the cotechino, not being perfectly ready in time for our New Year’s Eve guests – none of these things are actually important things. Well, not to me, anyway. The light in the bathroom deserves it’s own post. Oh yes, and in addition to the lack of patience and me not arguing, one could add that he doesn’t listen to me – but then, that’s not really new :-)

I know that, for a lot of people, they are glad to see the back of 2011 but not me. It was a wonderful year and one of the happiest I’ve ever had. I hope that 2012 will be the same both for me and for all you out there.

There is real disappointment in his voice.

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“Shall I take the bambini out for a walk?”

Although it already about 9.30, I feel I could stay in bed (and asleep) for several hours yet. Dino, in particular, is ready to go out. Has been ready since about 6, to be honest. But he’s very good – except when we are stirring. He puts pressure on you to get up. And F is right, of course, we SHOULD get up.

I say “Yes”.

“But I wanted to clean”. There is real disappointment in his voice. Really, the first question was not ‘shall I’ but rather ‘will YOU’. I.e. I should get up and take them out whilst he starts the cleaning.

I almost laugh. Instead, I reply that I’ll take them out. This pleases him.

And so it was that he spent most of the morning cleaning the lounge ‘very well’, as he would say. Things were moved around and moved out of the lounge and, to be honest, it looks a lot better and there is much more room now.

The tree, he says, we should put up on Sunday. Leaving it outside for as long as possible. That way, it won’t leave so many needles. However, yesterday he bought more baubles and some tree lights. “Why?”, I asked. “I have some already”. Apparently he is going to decorate big time. I know he is happy.

And him being happy makes me very happy. I think it might be a great Christmas.

I did the right thing! Rufus.

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“What do you think about having a tree this year?”, I asked.

“Yes, why not”

“Good because I bought one today”

“Is it real?”

“Yes, of course”

“I have balls – red ones, to put on”. He means baubles, of course.

When we got home, I showed him the tree and we discussed where to put it. It was the right decision after all. I suggested we decorate it during the long weekend. He agreed. More importantly, he is already thinking of how it should be decorated. I am very happy about that.

This morning, he took Rufus to the vets. He is having the big lump removed from his back. To be honest, I wouldn’t do it but for the fact that a) it is very, very big and b) it never stops bleeding. The one on his neck seems to be fixed by using the new cream, so that’s good.

I pick Rufus up tonight. After I have (with any luck) got the revisione done. I’m certain, of course, that it won’t be straightforward at all but one has to hope. It will be the second visit to the revisione centre so one can only hope that my ‘minimum of two visits to do anything here’ will replace ‘minimum’ with ‘only’.

Wish me luck. And Rufus, of course.

A pin in the neck.

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It’s new.

Well, it’s been in my wardrobe for a few weeks, maybe months but, yesterday, as there were customers and I was wearing a suit, I wore it because I hadn’t worn it before now and it’s a nice shirt. F had got it for me so it was one of the designer ones. It was nice too, and comfortable and slightly ‘green’ so that caused me a bit of a problem since I didn’t really have a green tie. So I wore a blue and grey striped one. Of course. Especially since I was wearing a brownish suit. It all fitted together perfectly. I work on the basis that if the colours don’t match then you might as well go for contrasts. Hah!

I got up early, as is normal, since F was going out of Milan and, therefore, for him, getting up early – about 2 (nearly 3) hours later than me.

So I walked Rufus and Dino. Rufus now is so slow that it can’t really be called ‘a walk’ but more of ‘a saunter’. Hence I now get up five minutes earlier to (try to) give him enough time to pooh outside rather than inside. Not that it actually works so I don’t know why I bother. I think the only solution to that is to get up at 5 and have at least one hour’s sauntering.

So, I get home and get ready and put on my new greenish striped shirt. It’s nice. It’s been washed, obviously. And ironed (by my new super-cleaning lady).

I go to work. I am a little early since the customers want to be here earlier than I would like. It’s OK. They go away today.

We continue our meeting from the day before. There are a load of pictures they have taken and changes that they want done. To be honest, I fucking hate them and their pickiness even if, sometimes, they are right.

We move, later in the morning to the shop floor to view the part and the changes they want.

My shirt is feeling less comfortable now. It’s the collar, It’s a bit like it’s rubbing which is strange because it’s not too small with plenty of room but there is something. Of course, I don’t actually think about that too much, I just rub my finger round the collar, pulling it away from my neck.

It doesn’t make much difference. It’s not at all painful – just slightly uncomfortable.

The discussions on the shop floor continue. I wish there was a way to tell them ‘No – we’re not doing it’. I’ve been searching for that. But I know it won’t happen, really.

My shirt collar is still a pain in the neck, so to speak.

Again, I rub around the collar.

And, this time I find out why it is a pain in the neck.

It should be, quite literally, a pain in the neck since it still has one of the pins in it – the one that they put near the top button on new shirts. It is sticking out of the shirt straight into my neck. It IS a pin in the neck.

I worry about two things:

1. How can I get this out of the shirt without attracting attention and
2. Does this mean that there is blood all over the shirt.

On point 2, I can’t really do much. Point 1 has my full attention. Since, apart from potentially stopping any more of point 2, it has the added advantage of potentially making the collar less uncomfortable.

Sometimes these pins are difficult to take out having been inserted in the thick part of the area near the button.

As it is, once I have the right end of the pin (now I may have blood on my finger!), luckily, it is an easy pull and it is out.

Now I have point 3 to worry about.

Point 3. Where to put the pin.

I think about putting it in my pocket but:

a) the outside pockets of the jacket are sewn up (it helps the suit to retain it’s shape),
b) the inside pockets of the jacket are not really an option as the pin would be difficult to retrieve later and,
c) the pockets of my trousers are not really an option since the pin, sticking through my pockets and into my legs would be worse and I use those pockets to put my hands in so they might also get lacerated at some point during the day when I had forgotten about the pin I had placed in them.

I have to find a bin.

I find a bin.

I casually (when no one is looking) drop it into the bin.

My pin in the neck has gone.

Later I see there is no bloody mess on my shirt.

Today (for this was yesterday), as I write this, I keep fingering my collar as if this shirt has the same problem. Also, as I write this, I wonder how I missed it when I took the shirt out of its packaging and think that I am sure I checked. Perhaps there were two pins? Having found one and taken it out it wouldn’t have crossed my mind to look for another. I also wonder how my super-cleaning lady could have missed it when ironing the shirt!

Rufus update

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Well, I did my best.

F didn’t like my solution to stop Dino licking the lump on Rufus’ back. It was a plaster taped all round with tape. OK, it didn’t look so pretty but it was effective. But he tried to use an elastic, self-sticking bandage – wrapped all round his trunk.

As this was on his back, just behind his shoulders, it meant that it moved when he moved and so the lump was exposed and so Dino licked it. Until it bled, of course.

I tried again last night. Wrapping the bandage so that it went between his front legs. Apart from the fact that it was a tad uncomfortable for him, within an hour, it had slipped off the lump, making it a waste of time.

So, I have decided, tonight it will be a trip to the vet.

Well, maybe. First I make an excuse to go to the vets without him – just to check when they’re open. Really, of course, it’s to check if the good vet or the bad vet is there. If the good vet, I go back home and get Rufus. If the bad vet, I go tomorrow morning when, hopefully, the good vet will be on.

I am hoping that some penicillin or something will cure them – or at least help them heal. If not, I’m not sure what to do. I definitely don’t want him to try and take them away. After all, as with the one on his neck, within a few months they will be back.

On the plus side, we now seem to have the diarrhoea sorted out. Although now I do have to hold him to stop him falling back into the shit he’s just shatted. Poor thing. Still, he seems quite OK apart from the lumps constantly bleeding and not healing – if you see what I mean.

Hot topic :-(

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In every conversation that I’m having with F now, the subject arises.

How many? What type? Where?

I remember when it used to happen before but you knew that was ending just as soon as the little barsteward learnt NOT to do it inside.

I am, of course, talking about shit. To be more precise, dog shit.

Now it is the same but different. Given Rufus’ situation, every time I am looking for solid or, at least, semi-solid. Definitely not runny. And, ‘where’ and ‘how many’ becomes – one in the house; two in the house; two outside or whatever.

You get my drift.

I really have to stop talking about it every time we talk :-(