The 11th March will never be the same again. In the past, it was just the day before my birthday but now it's the day that Del went to The Bridge. I'm sure you chose that date as an extra way of making sure I never forget. As if I could.
You came to us on 21st January 2002 as a ten year old ex-racer who had lived in less than ideal conditions for many years. You and about 6 others were taken from a house when the elderly man died and all of you went to a rescue organisation. Each of the other dogs got placed in homes but no-one chose you because you were 'old'. Jeez. Old. They obviously never met you, did they?
I heard about you and heard that you were struggling with your time in kennels. The lady in charge of looking after you had to sit on the floor of your kennel and tempt you to eat tasty morsels from her hand. You spent your days laying at the back of your kennel feeling sad.
We arranged to bring you home as a long term foster dog - although long term wasn't exactly the words the vet used when he examined you. You had something funny going on in your chest and there were no 'air movement' noises to be heard with the vets stethescope. He said that in a month, we'd notice a difference in you. He gave you a month Del.
We brought you home and spent a week or so teaching you that the cats were not to be snacked on. You soon learned that the cats were your friends and they were often found to be your sleeping companions after that. I tried very hard not to fall in love with you because you were only going to be with us for a month and I didn't want to be devastated when the time came for you to leave.
One month later, we took you back to see the vet. Indeed, there was a big change in you and indeed we had noticed it. We didn't say anything to the vet. We wanted to see if he noticed the change too. He listened to your chest - and then he listened some more - and some more. And then he looked up at me and said "his chest sounds normal". Then he listened again and it finally dawned on him that you my boy, were not planning on going anywhere for some time.
We brought you back home and shortly after that, something hit me, late one evening, like the proverbial ton of bricks.
I loved you.
I remember the moment and I remember typing a post on Greytalk saying "I love him!!".
There was not one single day when you didn't make us laugh with your antics.
Early on, you'd steal tea towels from the work top. I'd put the towel back on the work top and you'd watch me. I'd turn away and you'd nip back and drag it off again. You were pleased with that trick. http://www.siteboxx.com/videos/deltowel.mpg
One day I was on the phone to a friend and you were playing with a soft toy on the settee. You dropped your toy over the edge of the settee and leaned over the pick it up, but you misjudged things and rolled off, turning a complete circle on your way down.
http://www.siteboxx.com/videos/deltoy.mpg
On Wallaces third birthday, you were too impatient to wait for the candles to be blown out on his cake, so you helped yourself to the whole top of the cake, complete with burning candles.
http://www.siteboxx.com/videos/delthief.m1v
On the 10th of September 2002 you celebrated your 11th birthday. It was a day we never thought we'd see. I'm not sure who enjoyed it more, you or me.
Then on 21sy January 2003, you celebrated your 1st Gotcha Day. Another milestone accomplished.
You used to let me know when it was time for your dinner. You'd get up and do 'cheeky barking'. If anyone can see this video clip, although there is no sound, you can see the look of sheer mischeif in that pointy face http://www.siteboxx.com/videos/delbarking.wmv
And then on 11th March 2003, you let me know that you were needed elsewhere. There was very little warning but there was no doubt when that day came that you were ready to go.
Phoning to make the arrangements was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
After the vets, when it was all done and you were sleeping a peaceful eternal sleep, we got back in the car and the radio was on. You thought it was terribly amusing to have a song playing called "Don't you forget about me". It nearly killed us off at the time but now we can look back with a smile.
I know you're not very far away at all and I know (as does your Daddy and those who know us well) that you're still working your magic from way up high. I know you're just this side of heaven - and I know we'll be together again.
Until then.....
Del Doyle, 10th September 1991 - 11th March 2003
