In the background of this photograph you can see my father digging a hole. In the foreground you can see two of our dogs, the liver and white spaniel is Peggy and the other dog (behind the trough of flowers) is Griff – he’s a blend of all sorts: corgi, terrier, labrador and collie feature. The hole is to put him in this evening after the vet puts him to sleep. He’s 15, unsteady on his legs, totally blind and almost completely deaf. Over the last fortnight he hasn’t been eating much and he’s had serious and uncomfortable digestive problems.
It’s 5:20 now, and we’re all waiting to take him to the vets. I’m not convinced that now is definitely the right time for him to go, but I suppose one is never fully convinced when it comes to this kind of thing. He’s in the utility room as I write this, bumping into wellies and furniture. He finds it difficult to locate his water bowl, which has been in the same place all his life.
I feel nervous above all else. I’m nervous because I don’t know how I’ll feel after he’s put down and because I don’t know what it’ll be like at the vets.
6:40. Griff has been buried at the bottom of the garden. I couldn’t stroke him properly before he was put to sleep because my hands were sweaty on account of my nervousness. It was a quick death, moments after he was injected with the poison his front legs bucked and we eased him down on a blanket provided by the vets. I didn’t notice a specific moment when he died: he didn’t seem to change at all.
I was annoyed with my father for making a point as we drove home: “we should be able to do that for humans who are unable to make choices for themselves.” It was neither the appropriate time nor the appropriate place for such a comment, especially as he knows that I’m not in favour of assisted dying.
It’s the day after. I don’t live in the family home anymore, so Griff isn’t absent where I am. Perhaps when I’m next in Helmsley I’ll feel his absence. For now, I’m getting on with my life but with a feeling in the background that there’s something I haven’t addressed.
Orienteering 