You know that feeling when you know you have got to do something and all the arrows are pointing at it’s for the best, but still there is that niggling feeling that it’s not the right time or you’re not quite ready to be that grown up just yet. And then you get to thinking when the right time is? When it’s too late!
It was around this time year 12 years ago I got my first dog… he was a rebound puppy if you know what I mean. I searched high and low for a cavalier spaniel, when I couldn’t get one of those I finally found somewhere that had a cocker spaniel (don’t let what I tell you put you off I have 2 more spaniels and they are amazing dogs to own). Even my mum came with me –who after losing our German shepherd was anti any animals or should I say possible heart break.
And so it is how Huggy came into my life, he was so adorable as a puppy and people commented on how he liked to hug you. (No that’s not where he got his name). Owning a dog was everything I thought it would be, I remember our first long walk in the driving rain. The time he helped me out by eating the clock hands of a Christmas present I didn’t particularly like. I don’t remember the first time he showed true aggression and paranoia though.
It was quite early on and I remember an incident with a wooden spoon and my brand new lino and another time was the bottom step of the stairs. All things that we would of just got over if the backlash of him being told of wasn’t so bad. Many a time I had to lift my bed just to get him out from under it he would hole himself up and bark incessantly. Or worse he would take the TV controller, hairbrush or whatever he could find and guard it with his life.
I quickly learnt to manage his behaviour and tried not to let it take control, he would however get paranoid if you took too long to put his collar and lead on. And would often bite out in those scenarios. Again we learned to manage it much the same as when he nicked something we needed back we used treats to entice him away from what we needed. When the boy came along we watched them both like a hawk and they were never left alone together.
Unfortunately though in the chaos and exhaustion of moving to Norfolk we let our guard down and huggy did bite Horatio. At the time I didn’t feel it was Huggy’s fault in hindsight though maybe we should have made the call then, it just didn’t feel right at the time.
Over the last six months however I had been noticing his behaviour becoming more and more erratic and uncontrollable. He was nicking everything thing he could find and taking it into his den of the moment. When he was awake he was quickly grumpy. Long walks it seems were becoming too much for him, even getting in and out of the car was hard work. I was becoming increasingly worried when we had people over especially the babysitter or house sitter. It was coming to point where I didn’t know what his triggers were anymore.
So I made the call, and last Monday Huggy took his final journey to the vets. Even though I knew in my gut it was the right thing to do I was still left with this feeling that at first I couldn’t put a name to, it was something I haven’t felt in a long time and the suddenly it hit me… I was heartbroken. 12 years I had lived with huggy he was there through some of my saddest days he was there through my happiest.
He will be missed