by Emma
A few months earlier, Shadow had a nasty accident with
a stick. She'd pounced on it and part of it had stuck in her
tonsils at the back. i had to rush her to the vet for an
emergency operation to have her tonsils removed. We were
lucky that it hadn't punctured her windpipe, but all had
been well after the operation. The vet now pointed out that a
piece of stick could have been dislodged and gone through
Shadow's system and worked its way into some of the bone in
her shoulder blade. She could have had a knock or a bite. i
couldn't think of any time when that had happened so we
decided it had obviously been the stick which had caused the
damage.
i went back that day wiihout Shadow but with a much
lighter heart and the promise that i could probably pick her
up in a day or two. The da * y or two stretched into ten days. i
hate being parted from any'of my dogs. This is one of the
reasons why Don and i haven't been away on holiday for so
many years. There is, surely, no one who would welcome six
dogs in a hotel. We have always limited ourselves to day trips
to take Kerensa to the seaside or the zoo. It was heartbreaking
not to have Shadow at home. The receptionist at the vet
showed extreme patience as i rang constantly to ask how
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Shadow was and beg for them to let me bring her home. How
lucky we are that Kerensa has always been so fit and well
and that no illnesses have taken her ofr into hospital. My
sympathy goes out to those poor mothers, for if i was so
demented over being parted from one of my dogs, being
parted from Kerensa would surely have been unbearable.
'It'll be a long time before she's walking properly again,'
the vet warned me. 'Give her lots of rest, and don't let her
play with the other dogs.'
At last i returned home with Shadow, armed with pills
and instructions, and for a month all was well in our
household. Shadow improved daily and began to use her
paw again. i had pushed the terror and fear of seeing her in
pain behind me and had completely wiped out the thought
that i might lose her, until one terrible day when she began
to limp again. In my mind i tried to build a wall of
resistance, not letting myself think what it could be that
Shadow was ailing from. Instead of dwelling on this i went
back to the vet to unleash my emotions on him and blame
him for her limp. i felt nothing but anger as i stood in the
surgery that day, complaining that she was limping again
and what was he going to do about it? For a long time he sat
at his desk, leafing through the file, not speaking to me, not
looking at me.
Well, what are you going to do about it? i wanted to yell at
him, but something in his manner prevented me. i stood
there in silence, watching him. Gradually, painfully, the
truth began to seep round my body like ice cold water. i
stood there, unable to move or speak, watching the vet leaf
slowly through the file.
'I'm sorry, Mrs Hocken,'he began,'there's nothing more i
can do. i think it's bone cancer. But,' he added, 'I'd prefer
you to go and see a specialist, just in case.'
i didn't need any encouragement to seek a second opinion,
although i knew in my heart that he must be right. i was
given an appointment to see a vet at the Royal Veterinary
College in Hertfordshire, who specialized in animal orthopaedics.
Betty drove the car, as Don was unable to leave his
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pi dctlce. It was a boiling hot August day, something i could
well have done without, for i felt sorry for Shadow all the
way down, thinking that she was far too hot. But isn't it
strange how the memory plays tricks? Although i know there
was a blazing sun and azure blue sky, i don't remember it
like that at all. i remember it dark, almost black, without
colour or sun, but with that terrible heat. Like a tropical
night that never ended.
Shadow was taken for an X-ray and a sample of bone was
taken from her. I was told i would probably have to wait two
hours. i was afraid to ask him then and there whether he
could give me the results that day. i didn't really want to
know. For two solid hours Betty and i waited. What could i
do with myself? i think i talked most of the time. There were
pathways and lawns round the big Veterinary College
buildings and Betty and i must have walked them a hundred
times, while i talked endlessly about anything and everything
which didn't concern dogs or vets. i was actually
hoarse by the time the vet returned Shadow to me, as much
from talking as from terror.
'It'll be about a fortnight before the results are through,'
he informed me.
i was horrified. Although I didn't want to know straight
away, i couldn't bear the thought of waiting another two
weeks. 'Can't you tell me anything now?' i managed to
croak.
'Well, I've looked at the X-ray and it doesn't look too
promising. We'll ring your vet with the results as soon as we
know them.'
A fortnight later, my vet rang me with the worst possible
news. i often wonder how vets feel when they have to tell the
owners of dogs that there's nothing more they can do and the
only advice they can give is to have the dog put down. Of
course i know they're not emotionally involved, but i
wonder if they ever give any thought to how it will afrect the
owner. i realize that some owners aren't as attached to their
dogs as others. To me, dogs have the same life value as
human beings and the responsibility of life or death was laid
i2 ri
i
at my door. i was given a large supply of painkillers for
Shadow to prolong her life and to put ofT my horrible
decision.
If prayers and faith and absolute determination could
win, then Shadow -~,,-ould have been cured. But they didn't
work. All month i put off the decision. A whole month of
sleep being the only release from the burden i carried, and
each morning when i awoke i prayed that, through some
miracle during the night, Shadow would be cured. A verse
that i wrote many years ago came into my mind a lot at that
point:
Is hope an indefinite thing
That comes from a bottomless well,
Or does it ebb slowly away
At the beginning of human hell'
i thliik, at that point, my well was empty. i have often read
books in which animals or people die and have shared the
grief with the author for many weeks after I've closed the
book, but i have never understood the pain and anguish the
writer must have gone through to put their feelings into
words. And to write is to re-live th(, whole experience. i am
afraid i am unable to share any more of m,,, grief with you,
except to tell you that as soon as Shadow began to suffer, she
was put to sleep.
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CHAP'I'ER SEVENTEEN
i HAX
-E ALWAYS tried to nurture Kerensa's lox,e for animals,
as i realize there must be times when it's difficult to be an
only, child among so many dogs. And her life, too, must be
very different from the children she shares her class at school
with. She goes ofT to dog shows at weekends ~ind her spare
time and holidays are often spent walkl rig the dogs. i try to
make it interesting for Kerensa by turning our usual dog
walks into picnics or training my dogs on a spare field next to
the children's play park so that Kerensa can go ofrand enjoy
herself within my sight. It works out very well and I'm sure
she gets taken out far more than other children do. i remember
when i was her age i would have loved to have had a dog
and gone out to dog shows, but times were different then.
i have always loved any animal with fur and four legs, so
I've tried to encourage Kerensa to do the same. But i thiiik
maybe I've gone a bit too far because Kerensa's love for
animals stretches to anything and everything that mo,.~es.
And things that don't move as well. i have hidden, as much
as possible, my fear of creepy crawlies. i didn't waiit
Kerensa to be afraid of them. She was terrified of moths at
one point and would scream in the night if a moth flew round
her. Although I'm not awfully fond of them either, i feel such
things are far more terrifying to a young child. The best way,
I decided, was to tell her about moths. So, i invented a
family of moths and told her all about them and what they
did at home, what they had for tea and the outings they went
on, so that every moth that came into the room was one of
our six little girls. There was no more screaming in the
middle of the night, but there was a bit of shouting.
'Mummy, Xlummy, which moth is this' Is it Mary or
Miranda or Millie?'
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And so it went on, but it worked. It worked beautifully. It
worked rather too well for my liking. For Kerensa's desire to
know about every living thing that crept became almost an
obsession and i had to cover my absolute terror when she
walked in the kitchen with caterpillars or worms in her hand.
I'd want to run away screaming and tell her to take it away,
but instead, i had to put a very brave face on it and explain to
Kerensa that creatures like thatjust had to live outside in the
garden, and would she mind taking them back. At the
moment we have quite a lot ofcaterpillars living in our garden
because Don has planted some cabbages. Every time he
plants cabbages i beg him to spray them, but he never does. So
i insist that, if we're going to eat them, he decaterpillarizes
them before i go anywhere near the sink that they're in.
Kerensa now stands hovering and grabs every caterpillar ofT
Don that she sees, takes it out to her little home for
caterpillars, which is actually a dog bowl surrounded by
cabbage leaves. Each caterpillar is given a name. The dog
bowl is washed out meticulously every day and fresh cabbage
leaves are put in. Ifa caterpillar happens to escape in the night
when Kerensa's not watching, all hell breaks loose the next
morning.
i wouldn't mind so much if Kerensa's care and attention
were only lavished on living things but I'm afraid, at the
moment, she doesn't understand what happens when an
animal dies. She brought a tadpole back from school. Where
she got it from i don't really know, but it appeared from her
blazer pocket as soon as she arrived home. Clutching it, she
rushed out into the back garden where the stack of dog bowls
are kept, filled one with water and, with great pride, placed
her dead tadpole in the middle.
'I have called herjulie,'she announced.'Do you like that?'
'Well ... yes,' i tried to say without sounding too
despondent. 'But the problem is, Kerensa, it's dead.'
'It isn't dead, it's asleep.'
'No, Kerensa, it's not sleeping, it's dead.'
'What do tadpoles eat?' she said, refusing to accept the
blatant truth.
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That stumped me. i couldn't really think what tadpoles
ate. The poor thing stayed in there for days, while i was
trying to convice Kerensa that it would never move again.
Occasionally she poked it with her finger and whirled the
water round, just to convince herself that it was doing
something. She'd rush in.
'Mum, Mum, quick, look! It's moving! It's going round
and round!'
'Only because you've poked it,' i told her.
'No i didn't. i never touched it.'
After a few days, she wasn't only trying to convince me
that it was alive, but herself as well. After a week, I'm
pleased to say she lost interest because by that time it was
disintegrating.
Visitors to our house need to be given strict instructions
about Kerensa's 'things' outside the back door.
'Whatever you do,' i told Harold and Betty, 'don't empty
that dog bowl full of cabbage leaves and that bowl of water
with the dead tadpole in, or she'll never forgive you.'
Harold and Betty had come down to stay for a day to look
after our dogs. We couldn't go on holiday because, of course,
we couldn't take Emma with us but there were times, I'm
afraid, when a night away from home was absolutely
essential and on those occasions i had to get someone in to
look after the dogs. I'd been extremely lucky in finding
Tracey. Purely by accident we came across each other. Don
had met Tracey's father at the local pub and the subject of
dogs had cropped up.
'My daughter's crackers on dogs,' John had told Don.
'Can she come and see you? i know she'd like to if i tell her
you've got that many. She's at college at the moment
studying to be a secretary, but I don't think she fancies the
idea. It might get her out of the house a bit if she came down
to you,' he said, smiling into his beer.
'Fine,' Don said. 'Send her round.'
And so Tracey came. There aren't many people I could
tr i ust with my dogs, especially not to leave them fully in
charge, but Tracey is one of them. i knew immediately that
i29
she had the same love and respect for animals that i did aiid,
from that day on, she was here at every available moment.
Weekends and evenings she'd come and help me exercise,
groom and train the dogs until she left college. She was at a
loose end. Tjiere were nojobs to be had. It dawned on me that
i had begun to rely on Traccy more and more as the weeks
went by so i did the natural thing and offered her a full-time
job. It meant I'd have more time to go out on public
engagements and i wouldn't be so tied to exercising the dogs
every morning if there were other things to do in the house. It
worked out marvellously well. Too well in some respects, for
Traccy also got hooked on the obedience show world. So if
i wanted to go to a dog show on Saturday and Sunday, it was
no good asking Traccy to look after the dogs
because she
wanted to go as well.
The weekend that Don and i had to go away and stay for a
night coincided with one of Tracey's dog shows.
'I will stay,'Traccy offered,'and look after thedogs ifyou're
really desperate and can't find anyone else.' She looked at me
with spaniel-looking eyes. i knew exactly how she felt.
Missing a dog show was like the end of the world coming.
'It's all right, Traccy. Don't worry. Harold and Betty have
offered to come down and look after the dogs.'
'Oh, thank goodness for that,' she sighed.
I'd written a manuscript full ofinstructions aboutfeedingwhat
time, how many handfuls of this and that and how many
tablets to put in each bowl - about what time the dogs needed
exercising, about checking water bowls and not forgetting to
feed the rabbits, and please don't throw the caterpillar or the
dead tadpole away....
Betty took one look at my instructions and gave a sigh. 'Do
you expect me to read through that lot?'she said.'it'll take me
until you come home tomorrow.'
'Don't worry.' Harold came over with his calm, assured
smile. 'I know how to look after animals.'
'Ofcourseyou do,'i agreed with him,'otherwise i wouldn't
have asked you to come. But i would be grateful if you'd read
all these instructions -just in case.'
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~'ith a pat on the back and an aftectionate kiss on the
cheek, Harold saw me out of the front door and assured me
that everything would be well when we returned the next
day'.
Needless to say, all was well on our return, except for
Harold and Betty, who did look a bit peak~'.
'Now then, old lad,' Don greeted Harold as we came in the
front door. 'You look a bit tired, what's the matter"
'What's the matter?' Harold exclaimed. 'Why didn't you
warn me?'
'Warn you!'i said.'What's happened',' Has one of the dogs
bitten you?'
' No, of course they haven't,' Betty said.
'Well, what is it' NVhat's wrong"'
'That b- tripe,' Harold muttered and cursed under his
breath. 'Why didn't you tell me about it? If i ever come to
feed these dogs again, don't you leave me tripe. Why can't
you feed your dogs on tliined food like any normal person"
