|
|
|
|
|
|
|
My Best Mate Micky |
|
Micky in his younger days...and with his pal Bicky (the cat). |
|
Micky wasn't a handsome dog, but he was faithful and loyal and I loved him very much.
He was a cute little puppy - not pedigree by far - a bitza something. (Jack Russell/Fox Terrier X) He was so small that he would curl up on the toes of our moccasins and go to sleep.
He had his own personality and with it would come all sorts of trouble. He'd wander at large around the neighbourhood. He had his own 'run' - always went the same way. He was well known - people that recognised him would even 'toot' their horns and wave!!!!
He loved cats. When my old cat, Boots died of old age (16 years old), I said I wouldn't get another cat. But Micky fretted, he wouldn't eat. So, I got another cat, Dickens. Dickens was hit by a car about 3 months after we bought him home. I said I wouldn't get another cat, but Micky fretted again and wouldn't eat, so I got another cat. Then came Sarah and Molly - both also were hit by cars. But still I had to get another cat. Along came Bicky and Mitzie, and thankfully they were "road wise" and survived. [Mitzie unfortunately was killed by a dog about a month ago.(Feb 1998)] Micky loved all the cats, he'd play with them, sleep with them and generally terrorise them, but he loved them.
He found some-one's snail bait and ended up with poisoning - was very sick and almost didn't make it - but he fought hard and did. This happened very early in his life and he was destined to survive a string of incidents after that! A few close calls with cars were followed by actual connections, but in true 'Micky' form, lots of bruising and a few fractured ribs later, he was mobile again. Trying to restrain him in the backyard at mums proved too difficult - he'd always find a way out.
I never really understood that he knew I was his 'Mummy' until we'd moved to our own house, a few blocks away from mums, but on his daily 'run'. I was sitting in the front garden, weeding and my little mate came trotting around the corner, looked in the gate and saw me. The look of recognition, excitement and discovery in his eyes was a sight never to be forgotten. From then on he would commute. He'd sleep here at night and when I'd go to work, he'd wander over to mums - returning for my lunch hours and when my day was over.
Then just before Christmas 1990, he came home with very bad injuries. He'd been mauled around the neck and groin by another dog - how he made it home I'll never know. He went to his vet and his chances were slim. But in true 'Micky' form, he bounced back and pulled through. However his days of strutting his stuff around the neighbourhood had to come to an end. We had large yard, so he had lots of room to play. He'd while away the hours lazing in the sun or chasing blackbirds under the fruit trees, always with a keen eye on the gate, and if it was left open he was off on his rounds again.
However Micky wasn't ever destined to age gracefully and just after Christmas 1993, after noticing excessive thirst and his hair growing uncontrollably long, he was diagnosed with diabetes and Cushings Disease. This meant close monitoring, daily insulin injections and a strict diet for the diabetes and weekly tablets for the Cushings Disease. To control these two problems separately would never be easy, but trying to control them at the same time was very hard. We never really got any great results - but it helped my little mate stay with me for an extra couple of years. The downside of the diabetes was that it eventually led to blindness. This curbed Mick's movements considerably. He was frightened of running into things and couldn't move very fast for this reason. In turn it led to him becoming increasingly weak.
Gone were the days when he'd race up to the gate, tail wagging to greet you. Gone were the days when he'd come home from 'run', tear in the door, jump all over you and lick your face. Someone turned off the little light in his eyes - they just didn't shine anymore. Micky always maintained a good appetite throughout, and it was because of this, I reasoned with myself, that at least he had his meals to look forward to. However when his appetite started to wan I was forced to think long and hard about his quality of life.
After much heartbreaking soul searching it was decided Micky should not suffer anymore and he should be allowed to go peacefully. On Friday November 17th 1995, Micky's dedicated Vet, Ann came to his home and put him to sleep (in my arms). An end to his long and happy life, and his fast failing, weary little body. We put him to rest in a beautiful casket with his blanket, a photo, his collar and lead, in the shade under the Lilly Pilly tree in his own backyard.
"Sleep long and well my little friend for I shall never forget you. Your life caused me great happiness and taught me many lessons. Your parting causes me great sadness and heartache. You touched, not only my life, but of my family, friends (and even the strangers who used to feed you!). Everyone misses you dearly."
|
|
This page updated May 2004 |
bravenet.com
Back to my homepage