a gentle place

Posted By Harry on October 2, 2010

Plato

This is the sort of post you hope to read, not to write. You want to read it, shed a tear (or a cascade of them) as you feel the sadness, post a comment of support and silently sigh some relief that it’s not you writing it … yet. Today it is my turn to write it.

Plato, who some of you know and many others have met through Plato Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3, has deteriorated rapidly over the last two and a half days. On Thursday his breathing seemed laboured at times and on both Thursday and Friday he declined breakfast. His visit to Jim the vet (who’s been looking after Plato as if he were his own child) on Friday afternoon included an Xray which confirmed what we had dreaded: his lung fields, clear before, now show more cancer than lung. Sue and I held him, cried, held him, and cried some more before being thankful that we now knew and could make the next few weeks a “Plato Fest”. We’ll take him to the beach, up on Avondale’s hill, walk his favourite short walks with him.

But as if Plato’s relieved that we saw the Xray, relieved that he no longer has to pretend for us, he let us know by lunchtime today that there is no time for a Plato Fest. The last 14 years and 7 months will have to do. Today is the first day in his almost 15 years with us that he has not been able to get up on several occasions. And has collapsed on others. Yesterday he still would have trotted along the beach; today we had to carry him most of the way and he spent almost all the time there just lying down, giving Sue and I that awful feeling that we were doing his favourite thing for us and not for him. Taking him up on Avondale’s hill would have been too much after the beach trip so we postponed it. Probably permanently. This has to be about him.

Plato made it to the shed tonight at feed time – I’m not sure how – and went through the gate to be with most of his interspecies siblings. Then half lay down, and half collapsed with them all around him. Saying goodbye. He was unable to join me as I walked up to “Pig’s Paradise” to feed Ruby and Lucy – the first time he’s lacked the energy. They’ll understand.

After making the decision Sue and I both silently hoped he’d rally. As Tobi has (“Lazarus has arisen from the dead … again,” remarked Jim as I asked him how Tobi was this morning after she collapsed in my arms inexplicably yesterday as we were about to take Plato for his check.) But there’ll be no rallying from this. Plato’s made his decision and we’ll keep our promise: there’s now another place where he’ll be more comfortable and we’ll help him get there. Holding off any longer will be breaking that promise.

Perhaps Plato knows he’s had to make it dramatic for us. So that there’s no doubt in our minds as to the right time. Well, our beautiful Prince Plato, as you lie here next to us you can rest easy tonight knowing that you only have to carry your now burdensome body until tomorrow morning. You favourite vet Jim is coming to Avondale so that you can be with your family as you head off to watch us from up high. To a place where your breathing will be lighter and your joints won’t creak. To a place where you’ll once again feel like the regal being that you are.

Rest well tonight family of Avondale – tomorrow we’re going to need each other. And Plato, please forgive us if we soak your beautiful coat with tears as you go; think of them rather as sparkling diamonds of love adorning your shimmering robe.

Categories: Animals & us
Tags: Death, Dogs, Family