A Dog’s Life

Jake died on Tuesday 6 May 2014, aged about 13 years.

Jake in 2010 age 9

I wrote this post a day or so after Jake’s death but never published it – I don’t know why. Perhaps it was too painful, too indulgent. It is rambling and poorly structured and I am unable to edit it, but having now rediscovered it I can’t just leave it.

I first met Jake in August 2002 when he was 15 months old on a sink council estate in Cheltenham. He was living with a family who said they had rescued him after his first owners found they couldn’t cope with such a large, energetic dog alongside a young family. Living conditions were somewhat cramped in a 2 bed 2nd floor flat occupied by a couple, their 2 children, German shepherd, cat with 4 kittens, assorted birds and reptiles, and Duke a skinny, horny, very handsome, adolescent liver spotted Dalmatian.

We had moved into our new home in a hurry 2 days earlier; we hadn’t had time to do any significant work or unpacking, or even make the place looked lived in let alone work out basic security. Needless to say we were broken into by an opportunist trying to escape police after an earlier burglary on the main road through the village. Nothing much was stolen other than loose change and Justine’s waterproof that he wanted as a disguise, but we decided that the planned puppy was now urgent and really needed to be a bit bigger than a puppy.

Duke was one of several possibilities identified from the dogs for sale ads in local papers, he wasn’t the first choice as Cheltenham was a 30 mile drive to check him out, and the only thing I knew about Dalmatians was they could be bonkers and very hard work. However, after talking to owners of several other advertised dogs we decided to go and see him the following evening. Justine had family in and around Cheltenham and I had visited on many occasions over the years but it had never occurred to me that such a middle class, gentile town would have such run down areas, large blocks of the estate were in the process of being demolished and what was left was graffiti strewn and vandalised with apparently owner-less untaxed vehicles dumped all over the place. Finding the address was problematic as several roads from my A-Z had disappeared and when we eventually reached the destination I was worried about leaving the car outside, but we found the flat and met Duke with his foster carers. They were a nice family who were clearly struggling with their responsibilities, Duke was very scared of and dominated by their German Shepherd but had nowhere to hide. Unfortunately and understandably the family couldn’t provide enough food or exercise and had reached the decision to sell Duke whether or not he was theirs to sell. We took him for a walk around the immediate vicinity of the block of flats and it was love at first site for me and Duke. Justine, although not convinced due to his horniness towards her, agreed that we should buy him there and then and take him home with us. At the time £150 seemed a lot for an adult dog with a very unclear history and possibly disputed ownership, but he was handsome, athletic, loved us and without a doubt needed a better home; and the sellers needed the cash. On the drive home to Frampton Cotterell Duke became Jake.

The following day we registered at the local vets for a basic health check and hopefully confirm we hadn’t bought someone else’s stolen pet. The vet confirmed that Jake was not chipped, did not match local reports for missing dogs and at below 25kg he was at least 5kg underweight for his size but otherwise healthy, he recommended castration sooner rather than later to significantly reduce the horniness. The children had been packaged off to grandparents for the move and didn’t know about Jake until they were returned the following weekend. Dalmatians were cool, they loved him and they knew other kids at their new schools would too.  It also works for adults, you get to meet your neighbours while out walking and such a striking dog helps to get you recognised. Within the first 2 weeks it became clear that Jake’s horniness was a significant problem, especially with young girls who he would grab hold of and could sometimes scratch painfully with his dew claws. We had to keep him on a short lead for a lot of the time. We arranged for his castration within weeks and his horniness diminished significantly at first but he never fully lost the urge and he never trusted the vet again.

Jake with Anna, winter 2002

He was also very difficult with food which he would steal whenever presented with the opportunity, even from high shelves. We lost several quiches, cakes and loaves before learning to take more care. On one of the first times I let him off the lead in the field beside the house he charged off through hedges and fences to empty the bins at the local bakery, by the time I found him he was severely bloated with his face covered in jam and uncooked doughnut mix. He was unwell for several days as a result,  but for the rest of his life would always choose to be sick through overeating rather than risk being hungry. We made sure his routes to the bakery and availability of bins were restricted after the second time but there was always the risk he would steal food put out for horses in the fields around us and anything unsecured left in sheds and barns.

German shepherds, postmen, doorbells, telephones, black dogs and  joggers: all could provoke aggression. The fear and distrust of German shepherds never left him, if they didn’t attack him first he was liable to get in his revenge noisily and early. I received a visit from the police after he confronted then bit the bottom of a postman who ran away, we tried to keep him away from postmen and it made his response even more extreme, much mail got shredded on its way through the letter box until we invested in a basket on the inside of the door. Of course it wasn’t just postmen, it was anyone who opened the gate, walked up the gravel drive and then rattled the letterbox, but he would make friends with those who knew his name and didn’t run away. Door bells and telephones regularly induced howling by the second ring. There were several occasions where he unpredictable lunged at or provoked black dogs that I never got to the bottom of, and there was a one off occasion when he turned and nipped the bottom of a jogger who ran past without acknowledging him, but there were also many more occasions where other dogs really didn’t like him and would go out of their way to attack him.

On one occasion when Jake was about 6 years old he was upset due to an abscess or possibly a bee sting near his anus, so I tried cuddling to distract him while Justine took the opportunity to take a closer look. Jake panicked and bit through then partially tore off my ear before being mortified by what he had done. Three hours and many stitches later at Frenchay Hospital my ear was sewn back together and I went home to a really remorseful Jake who never showed me any aggression ever again, the resulting scars are now barely visible.

Jake continued to walk, run and climb mountains with me, 5 or more miles out and about every day for the next 8 years, often including a walk around the village in the evening with a visit to The Live and Let Live or the Rising Sun. It was running that went first, if he came with me for a run that would be it for a couple of days, he’d barely want a walk. Sometimes he did still run while we were out walking but often he’d suddenly yelp, come to a halt with an stiff arched back and then limp slowly home. Special diets, anti inflamtories, steroids and more hated trips to the vets were tried but to no avail, he was mostly happy in himself so we would only go to the vets as a last resort. By the time he was ten walks were every other day and he mostly wouldn’t go with anyone other than me, then he would sometimes get a couple of hundred yards from the house and absolutely refuse to go any further. We also became aware of a few sub-cutaneous lumps, probably cysts down to his age according to the vet. These multiplied in number and size with several becoming clearly visible and it seemed then that he didn’t have long left.

Soon after Jakes 11th birthday we got Dylan as his replacement and Jake really perked up. He didn’t seem especially interested in Dylan but he wanted to come for walks again and he played with other dogs, even running around a bit. 18 months on the lumps were getting bigger but Jake remained quite active, he rarely yelped and limped and he was going out for a mile or so twice a day but not always with Dylan. This spring the deterioration set in again, odd days where he couldn’t walk, occasional overnight incontinence, painful yelps and ultimately days where he seemed indifferent to me. It was the indifferent days that upset me. Then there were several days where he barely ate and didn’t want to go out in early April and we spoke to the vets about arrangements to have him put down at the end of the week, he perked up a bit was happy to see me and wanted to come out with Dylan and there were only occasional relapses for the next month. The end fortunately came very quickly, there were a couple of days of vomiting and incontinence when he barely moved, and wouldn’t eat. We walked no more then a fifty yards into the centenary field but it was too much for him and me so I contacted the vet again and booked him in for euphenasia the following evening. I came home from work early expecting to have to carry him to the car but he was a bit better so we walked round the Centenary Field for the last time, I started to have second thoughts but it was now his time to go.  I held him for five minutes while the injections took place, he fought and struggled and died. I cried but it was the right time.