Last Wednesday my beautiful Aslan was euthanized.
I was totally unprepared for this; I thought I was taking him to the
vets’ for antibiotics for an infection on his front leg. The vet diagnosed bone cancer in Aslan’s
front leg. With his wonky hips and
elbows, coupled with his huge size, amputation was not an option. The only thing I could do for my gorgeous boy
was end his suffering.
Aslan has always been a very stoic dog and determining if
he was in pain proved very difficult. As
a pup, he slightly favoured one leg. It
was almost so slight I could have ignored it, but felt the vet should check it
out. X-rays showed that Aslan had
dreadful hips and elbows, with his hipbones barely in the sockets. I was given daily medication for him and he
began to walk more normally and enjoy playing chasing with Cleo.
The vets’ was one of Aslan’s favourite places to be. He was always sure of an enthusiastic welcome
by the staff, and often, other clients.
The first time Aslan visited the vet was for his booster injections and
a general health check. Rose, the vet
who examined him, was instantly won over by the pup’s very laid-back approach
to life. By the end of the visit, she
had informed Aslan that he was her new, favourite patient. Aslan took this as his due and they remained
firm friends to the end.
Rose always took time to stop and say hello to Aslan even
when he wasn’t the patient. We took Cleo
to the vets’ once and Aslan came along for the ride and to keep Cleo
company. When Rose saw us in the waiting
room, waiting to pay our bill, she asked how Cleo was, then asked where Aslan
was. I told her he was in the car with
Graeme, waiting for Cleo to come back.
Rose said, “I’ll just go out and tell Aslan Cleo will be fine,” and with
that she headed for the car where, Graeme reported rather bemusedly, that Rose
did indeed tell Aslan all was well with Cleo before she and Aslan caught up as
old friends do. I was so glad Rose
wasn’t on duty the last time Aslan visited the vets’.
Aslan came into our lives when he was ten weeks old. I’d purchased him from a breeder in
Queensland via messages, photos and phone conversations. Cleo was an only dog at the time and she has
always been a very nervous, anxious personality. We hoped a young friend would make her feel
more secure. The breeder, a lovely lady,
preferred to hand deliver Aslan, rather than sending him down by air pet
carriers. I was relieved to hear this
because I too would worry about the pup being distressed on the journey. So Ann, the breeder, drove down from
Queensland and met us at her friend’s house in Goulburn.
My first site of Aslan was Ann coming out to meet us with
this little fluff ball following behind.
For me it was love at first sight.
Whenever Ann moved off somewhere she would say, “Follow the feet,” and
Aslan would be right there behind her.
Aslan settled in beautifully at Spring Rock. Cleo took him to her heart the moment he arrived. After a good sniff from head to tail, Cleo decided this fluffy little scrap was hers, and Aslan who last saw his mother a few days ago, was happy to be adopted. They were inseparable after that. Wherever Aslan was Cleo was right behind making sure her pup didn’t get into any trouble.
Aslan and Cleo shortly after he arrived at Spring Rock
Aslan’s trips to the vets’ were one of his favourite ways to spend a few hours. It started with a ride in the car which he always loved and then being met by his adoring fans, both old and new, and then finished with a ride home in the car. How could it get better than that? The ride was preceded with getting Aslan in the car, which was not one of Graeme’s favourite things. When Aslan was a pup, this wasn’t much of an issue. Graeme would usually pick Aslan up, put him in the car and then stand back as Cleo made her attempts to join Aslan. They usually travelled everywhere together, even when only one of them was visiting the vet. Assisting Cleo into the car wasn’t a big problem because Cleo eagerly helped with the process. When Aslan grew too large to lift we tried the Put Half The Dog In The The Other Half approach. Aslan would stand with his front legs on the tail gate and wait for Graeme to lift his back end in as well. He always turned his head to supervise Graeme’s efforts, but offered no help at all, despite being keen to get in the car. Getting Aslan into the car was clearly Graeme’s job and Aslan would not mess with the order of things. Once in the car, both puppies settled down to enjoy themselves.
Aslan receiving his vaccination certificate and making life long friends with Rose.If it turned out to be a vet visit, so much the better. As I mentioned earlier, when Aslan was six months old, we discovered he had bad hips and elbows. We were also told Aslan’s knees were perfect, which wasn’t much consolation. Aslan was put on anti-inflammatory/pain killer tablets that relieved his hip and elbow pain and let him lead a normal Saint Bernard mostly inactive life. These tablets required six monthly blood and urine test to check his body was coping with the medication. Aslan was all for six monthly visits to his fan club. The only fly in the ointment was the scales in the vets’ waiting room. Aslan suspected them of nefarious purposes and did his best to avoid standing on them, despite everyone’s effort to entice him onto the rubber pad. Mostly the vet would decide to estimate Aslan’s weight rather than lift him onto the scales, but on one rare occasion Aslan was on the scales long enough to record a weight of 78 kilos. This weight was recorded and used as a guideline for most of the rest of his life.
Vet visits were always a social outing for Aslan and
Cleo. Aslan’s big fluffy appearance,
coupled with his quiet personality, attracted people like moths to a
flame. It wasn’t unusual for me to be
stopped multiple times on my trip from the car to the vets’ door by people who
just wanted to meet Aslan. On one
memorable occasion, a queue actually formed while the first person patted and
admired Aslan. Once inside Aslan was
greeted as a long lost friend by the staff.
The receptionist or vet nurse in the waiting room would then go out back
to tell everyone Aslan was here. Clients
in the waiting room often came up to talk to him and Aslan took all this as his
due. He accepted compliments and pats
with the air of a celebrity meeting with his fans.
Actually, come to think of it, there was a second fly in
Aslan’s ointment with vet visits. Aslan
was scared of little dogs. Anything
Kelpie size or larger was fine. If their
owner brought them over to say hello to Aslan he would wag his tail slowly, and
bump noses happily. If the dog was
smaller, especially the small, white, fluffy variety that seems to abound at
our vets’ practice, Aslan would get a look of panic on his face and try to hide
behind my legs. It was difficult to
convince small dog owners that my huge boy was scared of their little dog. They’d look at their dog and then look at
Aslan, trying his hardest to attain invisibility, and then look at me as if I
was mad. Eventually it would be proved
that Aslan was not comfortable meeting their small dog and the owner would
usually pat Aslan and tell him he was a funny boy or similar.
With that unhappy event behind him, Aslan would then be
taken out the back by a vet or vet nurse for his tests. I’d hear all the welcoming hellos and cries
of delight that accompanied Aslan’s arrival out the back and then wait for his
triumphant return. The person returning
Aslan always had good things to say about his bravery when facing the needle
and his personality in general. Aslan
would nod in agreement with it all.
At home Aslan would join in games with Cleo, if she
insisted, endure baths – not his favourite activity – and generally brighten
everyone’s day. There were a few
exceptions though, the most memorable was the time I fell and hit my head on
the concrete septic tank top. The
retractable hose knocked my feet from under me and I came down hard on the
tank. I called
Graeme for help, but he was down in the shed and couldn’t hear me. Cleo and Aslan, on the other hand,
could. Cleo came bounding around the
house to see what help she could give and Aslan followed at a much more sedate
pace. I couldn’t see Aslan very well,
because I had a face full of Cleo, but Aslan too was determined to be of
help. While Cleo kept me distracted,
Aslan turned chiropractor, put his great big paw straight down on my neck, and
proceeded to walk over the top of me, putting his not inconsiderable weight
behind that paw. I feel very lucky he didn't snap my neck - as soon as I
felt the paw on my neck alarm bells rang in my already ringing head. I
managed to grab his leg as he walked over me to reduce his weight, but a lot of
Aslan's weight (and there was a lot of Aslan's weight) managed to get through
anyway. After Aslan’s impromptu neck adjustment, he sat close next to me
and proceeded to share his drool. I
eventually managed to get myself up despite all the help Cleo was giving me and
Aslan was pleased that he’d done his mite and everything was right with our
world again.
I could go on and on about the joy I had
sharing my life with this wonderful, gentle giant. He was always unflappable, kind hearted and
loving. Aslan brightened every day of my
life while he was in it. He also
brightened the day of those who met him, firstly when they were impressed by
his size and later when his lovely personality shone through.
Seven years was far too short a life for this
amazing puppy. I miss him every
day. Cleo is not coping well. She keeps looking for her best friend and
whining when he doesn’t show up. She
carries her squeaky toy with her everywhere, whether as a comfort, or in case
Aslan turns up and would like to play, I’m not sure but she never lets it out
of her sight. Cleo and I mourn our loss together.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful, but far
too short, life with us Aslan. We miss
you.
2 comments:
Oh Rosemary, I'm so sorry to read of the loss of your beautiful Aslan. Seven years, much too short a life indeed. He will be sadly missed by all.
Thank you Jenny. He's left a big hole in my heart.
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