A Boy With A Dog
0 comment Sunday, October 19, 2014 |
This is Ludo, the Leonberger which we purchased through Glenbrindy Leos as a friend and companion for our son. I used to think Samoyeds were the most docile, gentle dogs with children which ever existed, but I have been corrected.
Ludo has been fantastic, forgiving, gentle, loyal, and a delight to have in my home as part of the family.
And, sadly, she has to go.
Her care and attention has been on the back burner lately as I just don't have the energy for walks. I couldn't afford insurance anymore, and so that went as well. Then, getting her to the vet for shots proved impossible as it requires me getting a cab there and back, which brings the cost up considerably. Her training has been scatty and due to lack of socialisation and getting out and about, she's getting very excitable. I'm strong but even I am having trouble holding her back these days.
I don't have the strength or energy for poo-patrol, or walks, or even brushing sessions. My son loves her, but I have to do what is right for Ludo as well right now, and while my mobility gets worse, there's more and more chance I'll be getting out and about outside in a wheelchair - no chance I can hold her while in one of those.
And so, I contacted Glenbrindy this week about them coming and taking her for rehoming. They've been very kind about this, and understand how hard it was for me to do that, but needs must. They say finding her a home may take a while but they'll certainly help.
I feel absolutely awful - I swore to myself as a young girl I'd never own another dog again as my own mum was forced through divorce to get rid of all our dogs - and now this feels like I'm just putting my son through that particular hell of losing a pet. I know he'll blame himself somehow, and I've entertained the thought of telling her she died (horrible, I've never lied to my son before, but I've no idea what else to say which won't make him feel like it's his fault).
I guess I also feel worse in that while I will miss her terribly, I also feel relieved; no more frantically holding her back whilst a stream of social workers and care assessors come in the door; no more desperately trying to stoop to clean up after her, or trying to muster the energy to groom; no more extreme guilt when she and I both eye her walking lead and yet I know if I take her even for a 20 minute walk I won't have the energy to get through the day.
There will be a huge hole in our lives which I have no intention of filling again (no more dogs, ever. That's it.) but I am grateful to Ludo for learning "chase-game", for fetching even if it's almost unheard of for this breed to do so, for putting her head on my knee when I needed the reassurance, for giving my son a topic of conversation with people he had never met who eventually, just as I do, saw that he wasn't just this disabled "thing", but a boy with a dog.