Hi. 
I know this is a very long post, so please bear with me and perhaps read it over a day or so, and I know much of it is personal. Also, for those affected by bereavement or other incidences where loved one’s lives have been in peril, I do no wish to diminish or insult your experiences – I know what it is like to lose relatives that I have been very close to (my maternal grandmother being like a second mother to me, for example), though I fortunately do still have my parents and sister.
This message may seem overemotional at times, and I am indeed emotional at the moment. However, this is what I really believe – these are things we have all felt over the years about Max.
Our Cavalier King Charles/Yorkshire terrier cross, Max, passed away on Wednesday after having a very severe stroke. He was 13 (14 in October).
As I said earlier, I know what it is like to lose relatives and friends at a moment’s notice, either being able to say goodbye or not at all, but this does not feel any different to me personally.
This is all about Max, not me, but I cannot believe he’s gone. :-( We knew it would happen one day, and we always dreaded it. I am hurting so much :-(, but my only concern was and is for him. :-( We looked after him while he was not well, but we couldn’t make him better. :-( It really does hurt so much, and I couldn’t bear to see him suffer. :-( We are comforting each other, but I would do anything to be able to cuddle Max again. :-( I know I told him how much we love(d) him before he went, and we always used to tell him so anyway, but I… I miss him and his company so much. :-( He was our little baby, and words cannot describe how much he meant to us. :-(
Strangely perhaps, we spent the past two or three years trying to be extra nice to him in case he should pass away. However, in any case, we always loved him. I had know him since I was 14, and I’m 28 now! It was so long ago that I was not disabled then, and I would sometimes sit with him and talk to him about how things used to be for him and I, and how I used to be. I know this may sound silly, but he was the closest thing to a little brother I had. He was a friend, too. When I did became chronically sick in 1994, he stayed with me when my friends didn’t (although I did get some of my friends back 10 years later), and he would lie down with me when I wasn’t well. When his food was being served, he didn’t rush to it – he carried on resting with me. During subsequent relapses, he would stay with me – he was not simply taking advantage of the situation.
Funnily enough, Cavalier King Charles spaniels were often ‘prescribed’ by doctors to one of England’s kings of the same name when poorly! Well, I certainly am not a king, but the name “Carl” with a “C” comes from the English name “Charles”, and Max was half Cavalier King Charles spaniel so…
We had him for so long that I was still at school aged 14, my sister was at primary (elementary) school and things like the Internet were known only to a select few! How times have changed! Partly thanks to technology, which is one of my loves, we have photos and video clips of Max in digital form that should technically last forever.
I just wanted to put something on here as one way of remembering him. I (we) miss him terribly, and although he was getting on, he was an intelligent, sprightly and spirited dog to the very end. In the middle of the stroke, he even picked up a bit and barked at me several times, requesting a bite to eat! Unfortunately, this apparent respite only lasted a few minutes, and he continued to deteriorate. Even so, we were going to take him to the veterinary surgeon to be looked at because of the sudden onset of the stroke, which of course came on without warning – we were not going to leave him to see how things went.
Mum and I looked after Max while Dad rushed home to get him to the veterinary surgeon. I didn’t want to be overbearing with Max, so I did give him quiet time at well – I didn’t get upset or alarm him when I was trying to comfort after him.
Dad was already on his way home – we had called him at work within moments of Max walking into the room, looking rather wobbly. We knew immediately what had happened. His health was good for a dog of his age, although he had his niggling problems that we and the veterinary surgeon had been treating successfully for years. However, none of those problems were life-threatening.
I kissed Max goodbye in the same place I said hello to him one winter’s day in 1993 – in the hall, by the front door. I’m afraid my British stiff upper lip had to go, so I told him how much I loved him and that we wouldn’t ever leave him. One thing happened to me that is possibly the most touching thing that has ever happened to me – he put his paw on my chest when saying goodbye and kept it there when I got upset, which left me speechless, breaking down into more tears. I kissed him goodbye from my sister (who was at work in London at the time, which is quite a distance) and I. But, as I have just said, we were saying goodbye but that it wasn’t really goodbye because we would never leave him.
I cried and cried when Max was taken, and I prayed that he would be able to come back to us healthy again, but I also prayed that if he couldn’t, I wanted him to be put to sleep peacefully with Mum and Dad with him. The latter happened, and Mum said it was so comforting. Mum admits to not being a major lover of dogs, but she would never harm one at all or want one to suffer. Moreover, she is rightfully repulsed at those who abuse animals, believing in long prison sentences for those who do. Before Max was put to sleep, Mum and Dad comforted him, with Mum having comforted Max all the way in the car on the way there. Strangely enough, the car they took him in is called a Ford C-MAX – a small people carrier vehicle (a large car in essence). They left the air conditioning on for him, but not so high that the extra noise might scare him. I picked this vehicle for its special anti-allergy interior and excellent ride quality, and I feel so pleased that he went in that car. Thankfully, Max did stabilise somewhat on the way there – we had sat outside with him in the fresh air for a while – but he needed to get to the veterinary surgeon quickly for examination and treatment.
We had already telephoned ahead to let them know what was wrong with Max. Surprisingly, our veterinary surgeon stayed on after his shift to see Max, which my parents did not know about until they arrived. That was comforting, as he had treated Max for years. We were initially told the surgeon was on his way home, but he stayed behind for Max.
With Mum, Dad and the nurses already comforting Max, who had by then been sedated but still aware, with Mum and Dad facing Max straight on so he could see them, he was put to sleep by the surgeon who had treated him for a decade or so.
I am close to tears writing this – my nose and throat are blocked! – and I have cried every day since. My Dad has cried, which is something I have never seen before. My Mum has been crying every day, as have I. As for my sister, with her being in London and not due to come home until the next day, she is deeply upset of course. If she could have, she would have come straight home, but she could not.
I cannot begin to explain the huge impact this little dog has had on us. We always knew it would be so difficult when it came to him leaving us, but we never, ever knew it would be this difficult. Our home really became a different place when Max came to us in a cream-coloured coat on a dark winter’s night in late 1993. Max left the house on Wednesday afternoon in a cream-coloured towel. :-( We didn’t even know if Mum and Dad would come back with a puppy – they had simply gone to “have a look”. He was so small that I couldn’t even see him, a virtually black-coated dog at the time, buried in this coat hood. What I had looking back at me once I had found him was this tiny dog with huge brown eyes staring back at me!
I was the first to see him. “Hello there!” I said, very quietly. From that moment on, without a single break, Max changed our lives. I really would wake up in the mornings with a smile, realising we had Max. This is something I would often mention, not something I have just thought of. We all went through so much together – taking Max out, staying in with Max sitting with us, visiting relatives with Max, going for walks (often very long ones!), going out for a ride on the car (which he loved! ). We really did not spoil him – we just often involved him in what we were doing. At other times, he would be quite happy having a little sleep in the corner. When it came to going in the car, it was, “Max… Do you want to go ‘ridies’ in the car?” (Yes, we used to say “ridies”! ) His face lit up with excitement, and he’d start squealing, making his way to the front door to get ready! Even if it was just to get some petrol (gas) for the car, he’d be there ready! We didn’t even need to get him excited – just saying “ridies” in a somewhat flat tone was enough to get him going!
There are countless other memories – Max being in the car when I was picked up from school (he’d shake with excitement when he spotted me in the crowd of children dressed in the same uniform!); getting excited when picking me up from the same school when I worked there (he’d get excited then!); playing with cats (he *loved* cats and didn’t want to eat them! hehe); getting excited over beef being cooked (his favourite!); and going for walks with the others, meeting other dogs and playing with children (he loved them!). Finally, in his later years, when he had more difficult walking long distances, he would sit on my lap with me in my wheelchair! He absolute Ely loved that and would spend half of his walk with me and then have a little walk around himself. Once he had had enough, he would get back into the wheelchair with me, looking at the scenery! He did this up until left us on Wednesday.
Our house has been returned to how it was in 1993, which is a very strange feeling. Max would be quite happy having a little sleep, and he would come into the living room for some attention when he was ready, but just knowing he was there was reassuring. I know things will ease in time, but we can’t ever forget him – he really was a unique dog.
A special thank you to those here who have spoken to me about Max – thank you. I greatly appreciate your support, and I know some of you have had similar experiences. Such is the fragility of all life – human or animal – and I think we often forgot that, but that is often entirely natural because we are enjoying life itself. Indeed, when we have had so much fun with family, friends, pets and hobbies, we live for the moment – and that’s how it should be. However, the time comes at some stage, often unexpectedly, that some people may leave us. When that comes, it is never easy, but I guess the only to ease this, if ever possible, is to tell people you love or like that you *do* indeed love or like them – every day.
Well, it’s getting dark here in the UK now – another day without Max, but we know he’s not far away.
All that’s left to say is that I cannot even begin to say how very proud we are of Max – our brave little dog who shamed us with his bravery and spirit. So, here’s to you, Max – thank you for all the fun we had xx – I hope you enjoyed it all, because I know we did. You are still with us and always will be – we won’t forget about you. xx Rest in peace, little man. xx
Carl
x
PS The photo is of Max in our living room. That’s his bed at the top of the photo, although he only used it a few times! It soon stored his toys, which included a UK Persil liquid dosing ball on a thin piece of rope that he liked! hehe
PPS acerone, it has been kindly brought to my attention by another member, one of my friends here, that you have suffered a similar loss. :-( I am so sorry, and my best wishes go to you. :-( I shall respond very soon.
I know this is a very long post, so please bear with me and perhaps read it over a day or so, and I know much of it is personal. Also, for those affected by bereavement or other incidences where loved one’s lives have been in peril, I do no wish to diminish or insult your experiences – I know what it is like to lose relatives that I have been very close to (my maternal grandmother being like a second mother to me, for example), though I fortunately do still have my parents and sister.
This message may seem overemotional at times, and I am indeed emotional at the moment. However, this is what I really believe – these are things we have all felt over the years about Max.
Our Cavalier King Charles/Yorkshire terrier cross, Max, passed away on Wednesday after having a very severe stroke. He was 13 (14 in October).
As I said earlier, I know what it is like to lose relatives and friends at a moment’s notice, either being able to say goodbye or not at all, but this does not feel any different to me personally.
This is all about Max, not me, but I cannot believe he’s gone. :-( We knew it would happen one day, and we always dreaded it. I am hurting so much :-(, but my only concern was and is for him. :-( We looked after him while he was not well, but we couldn’t make him better. :-( It really does hurt so much, and I couldn’t bear to see him suffer. :-( We are comforting each other, but I would do anything to be able to cuddle Max again. :-( I know I told him how much we love(d) him before he went, and we always used to tell him so anyway, but I… I miss him and his company so much. :-( He was our little baby, and words cannot describe how much he meant to us. :-(
Strangely perhaps, we spent the past two or three years trying to be extra nice to him in case he should pass away. However, in any case, we always loved him. I had know him since I was 14, and I’m 28 now!
It was so long ago that I was not disabled then, and I would sometimes sit with him and talk to him about how things used to be for him and I, and how I used to be. I know this may sound silly, but he was the closest thing to a little brother I had. He was a friend, too. When I did became chronically sick in 1994, he stayed with me when my friends didn’t (although I did get some of my friends back 10 years later), and he would lie down with me when I wasn’t well. When his food was being served, he didn’t rush to it – he carried on resting with me. During subsequent relapses, he would stay with me – he was not simply taking advantage of the situation. Funnily enough, Cavalier King Charles spaniels were often ‘prescribed’ by doctors to one of England’s kings of the same name when poorly!
Well, I certainly am not a king, but the name “Carl” with a “C” comes from the English name “Charles”, and Max was half Cavalier King Charles spaniel so… We had him for so long that I was still at school aged 14, my sister was at primary (elementary) school and things like the Internet were known only to a select few!
How times have changed! Partly thanks to technology, which is one of my loves, we have photos and video clips of Max in digital form that should technically last forever. I just wanted to put something on here as one way of remembering him. I (we) miss him terribly, and although he was getting on, he was an intelligent, sprightly and spirited dog to the very end. In the middle of the stroke, he even picked up a bit and barked at me several times, requesting a bite to eat! Unfortunately, this apparent respite only lasted a few minutes, and he continued to deteriorate. Even so, we were going to take him to the veterinary surgeon to be looked at because of the sudden onset of the stroke, which of course came on without warning – we were not going to leave him to see how things went.
Mum and I looked after Max while Dad rushed home to get him to the veterinary surgeon. I didn’t want to be overbearing with Max, so I did give him quiet time at well – I didn’t get upset or alarm him when I was trying to comfort after him.
Dad was already on his way home – we had called him at work within moments of Max walking into the room, looking rather wobbly. We knew immediately what had happened. His health was good for a dog of his age, although he had his niggling problems that we and the veterinary surgeon had been treating successfully for years. However, none of those problems were life-threatening.
I kissed Max goodbye in the same place I said hello to him one winter’s day in 1993 – in the hall, by the front door. I’m afraid my British stiff upper lip had to go, so I told him how much I loved him and that we wouldn’t ever leave him. One thing happened to me that is possibly the most touching thing that has ever happened to me – he put his paw on my chest when saying goodbye and kept it there when I got upset, which left me speechless, breaking down into more tears. I kissed him goodbye from my sister (who was at work in London at the time, which is quite a distance) and I. But, as I have just said, we were saying goodbye but that it wasn’t really goodbye because we would never leave him.
I cried and cried when Max was taken, and I prayed that he would be able to come back to us healthy again, but I also prayed that if he couldn’t, I wanted him to be put to sleep peacefully with Mum and Dad with him. The latter happened, and Mum said it was so comforting. Mum admits to not being a major lover of dogs, but she would never harm one at all or want one to suffer. Moreover, she is rightfully repulsed at those who abuse animals, believing in long prison sentences for those who do. Before Max was put to sleep, Mum and Dad comforted him, with Mum having comforted Max all the way in the car on the way there. Strangely enough, the car they took him in is called a Ford C-MAX – a small people carrier vehicle (a large car in essence). They left the air conditioning on for him, but not so high that the extra noise might scare him. I picked this vehicle for its special anti-allergy interior and excellent ride quality, and I feel so pleased that he went in that car.
Thankfully, Max did stabilise somewhat on the way there – we had sat outside with him in the fresh air for a while – but he needed to get to the veterinary surgeon quickly for examination and treatment.We had already telephoned ahead to let them know what was wrong with Max. Surprisingly, our veterinary surgeon stayed on after his shift to see Max, which my parents did not know about until they arrived. That was comforting, as he had treated Max for years. We were initially told the surgeon was on his way home, but he stayed behind for Max.
With Mum, Dad and the nurses already comforting Max, who had by then been sedated but still aware, with Mum and Dad facing Max straight on so he could see them, he was put to sleep by the surgeon who had treated him for a decade or so.
I am close to tears writing this – my nose and throat are blocked! – and I have cried every day since. My Dad has cried, which is something I have never seen before. My Mum has been crying every day, as have I. As for my sister, with her being in London and not due to come home until the next day, she is deeply upset of course. If she could have, she would have come straight home, but she could not.
I cannot begin to explain the huge impact this little dog has had on us. We always knew it would be so difficult when it came to him leaving us, but we never, ever knew it would be this difficult. Our home really became a different place when Max came to us in a cream-coloured coat on a dark winter’s night in late 1993. Max left the house on Wednesday afternoon in a cream-coloured towel. :-( We didn’t even know if Mum and Dad would come back with a puppy – they had simply gone to “have a look”. He was so small that I couldn’t even see him, a virtually black-coated dog at the time, buried in this coat hood. What I had looking back at me once I had found him was this tiny dog with huge brown eyes staring back at me!
I was the first to see him. “Hello there!” I said, very quietly. From that moment on, without a single break, Max changed our lives. I really would wake up in the mornings with a smile, realising we had Max.
This is something I would often mention, not something I have just thought of. We all went through so much together – taking Max out, staying in with Max sitting with us, visiting relatives with Max, going for walks (often very long ones!), going out for a ride on the car (which he loved! ). We really did not spoil him – we just often involved him in what we were doing. At other times, he would be quite happy having a little sleep in the corner. When it came to going in the car, it was, “Max… Do you want to go ‘ridies’ in the car?” (Yes, we used to say “ridies”! ) His face lit up with excitement, and he’d start squealing, making his way to the front door to get ready! Even if it was just to get some petrol (gas) for the car, he’d be there ready! We didn’t even need to get him excited – just saying “ridies” in a somewhat flat tone was enough to get him going! There are countless other memories – Max being in the car when I was picked up from school (he’d shake with excitement when he spotted me in the crowd of children dressed in the same uniform!); getting excited when picking me up from the same school when I worked there (he’d get excited then!); playing with cats (he *loved* cats and didn’t want to eat them! hehe
); getting excited over beef being cooked (his favourite!); and going for walks with the others, meeting other dogs and playing with children (he loved them!). Finally, in his later years, when he had more difficult walking long distances, he would sit on my lap with me in my wheelchair! He absolute Ely loved that and would spend half of his walk with me and then have a little walk around himself. Once he had had enough, he would get back into the wheelchair with me, looking at the scenery! He did this up until left us on Wednesday.Our house has been returned to how it was in 1993, which is a very strange feeling. Max would be quite happy having a little sleep, and he would come into the living room for some attention when he was ready, but just knowing he was there was reassuring. I know things will ease in time, but we can’t ever forget him – he really was a unique dog.
A special thank you to those here who have spoken to me about Max – thank you.
I greatly appreciate your support, and I know some of you have had similar experiences. Such is the fragility of all life – human or animal – and I think we often forgot that, but that is often entirely natural because we are enjoying life itself. Indeed, when we have had so much fun with family, friends, pets and hobbies, we live for the moment – and that’s how it should be. However, the time comes at some stage, often unexpectedly, that some people may leave us. When that comes, it is never easy, but I guess the only to ease this, if ever possible, is to tell people you love or like that you *do* indeed love or like them – every day.Well, it’s getting dark here in the UK now – another day without Max, but we know he’s not far away.
All that’s left to say is that I cannot even begin to say how very proud we are of Max – our brave little dog who shamed us with his bravery and spirit. So, here’s to you, Max – thank you for all the fun we had xx – I hope you enjoyed it all, because I know we did.
You are still with us and always will be – we won’t forget about you. xx Rest in peace, little man. xx Carl
x
PS The photo is of Max in our living room.
That’s his bed at the top of the photo, although he only used it a few times! It soon stored his toys, which included a UK Persil liquid dosing ball on a thin piece of rope that he liked! hehe PPS acerone, it has been kindly brought to my attention by another member, one of my friends here, that you have suffered a similar loss. :-( I am so sorry, and my best wishes go to you. :-( I shall respond very soon.
