o/t: final call

Hi everybody:

 

It is certainly amazing how things go their own way. I had told you that Hapoo had arrived well at her retirement place, enjoyed watching people from the center of the kitchen and making friends with Candy, the two-year-old Hovawart mix. I was relieved the two dogs got on so well together.

Monday morning, I was told, they each received a bit of bread, and both behaved so well. Then they went into the field and enjoyed a great deal of play and later walked through the village. Of course, when others saw Hapoo, they admired her, and how beautiful she looked. At home both dogs got some of the treats I had sent over, they lay beside each other and each had theirs without any jealousy. Hapoo rested well after the wild play, walked through the house to take a look around, had water and lay down again, as always. At night she got too tired, and they thought she might have an upset stomach, so they gave her a warming bottle and covered her with a blanket.

 

At night the man woke up from Hapoo making quiet wimpering noises. He tried to comfort her, but soon her heart stopped beating. Re-animation didn't help.

I was away from work, but I was certainly hit by surprise, when he called later in the afternoon to tell me the news that Hapoo had passed away so suddenly. I was so sure she would enjoy retirement at the new place, but the Royalty as we know her seemed to have other plans. I hadn't noticed any health issue with her, except that on Saturday, as it was her last day at my work, she was very alert and behaved like a young energetic dog on the way back. It really looks like she wanted to be left in peace.

She was burried in the garden, resting on the cushion that had been her place for so long.

When her new owner called to tell me the news, he cried himself. He had consciously decided to adopt a dog whom he could do a real favour. We had talked about the fact that Hapoo was not a puppy anymore and that it was most likely his  task to see to her final rest, and he assured me that he knew, but that it was his mission now to give her the well-deserved pleasure of retirement. I had no doubt he would, and it was sad to see him so sad.

Whenever something like this happens, I can keep my own emotions under controll. But just now I have to admit that it is probably, within the next weeks or months or so, a good thing to be able to close Hapoo's book firmly and with a good feeling, and adopt Quito and her new character and habits without any reservations. I needn't mention that my sweater's sleeves are a little wet, and it still impresses me how Hapoo has always managed to be everybody's favourite, starting with the breeder who had had no plans of letting her be trained as a guide dog, continuing with her trainer, the folks at the dog kennel, and so many other people, whose paths she crossed for longer or just a short moment.

 

Hapoo would probably tell Mr Music Man that it was his fault he has missed the chance to see her, and that it was the tennis men's fault to display a wild tennis ball session on court with her. She is, I believe, probably watching me from somewhere, wondering what on earth I am up to again, and probably also remembering things she and I have done together.

I'd better stop now, before this mail gets too long. Cheers, Chris:-)