Cubist
Still wavin'
- Location
- Ovver 'thill
Four or five years ago we rescued Bramble. She was on her last day on death row, having been found wandering the streets of Halifax. Originally billed as a young dog by the organisation that was rehoming her, it was clear she was middle-aged, but she was such a sweet-natured thing we took her on. She had a fatty lump on her chest that needed removing, and during tests it was discovered she also had a tumour on her bile-duct. Despite the eye-watering costs we paid to have her mended, and very much enjoyed having a lively, but somewhat dependent West Riding Tripe-Hound.
She loved her walks, and living where we do we had some good long invigorating strolls, her favourite route was along a bridleway leading up to the highest point for miles around, often hit by atrocious weather, but it gave me an excuse to buy some decent gear to accompany her.
She used to love nothing more than sitting and watching rugby with Dad
although she also enjoyed helping me explore the local singletrack
but over the last few months the sparkle faded. She had a couple of stroke-like episodes, and started to become disorientated. The last couple of weeks saw her lose interest in her walks, and she spent most of the day asleep on her favourite sofa. Tests showed she had a problem with her liver, and an attempt at medicating her was a bit too late. She could barely stagger to the garden for a pee and so she made the final journey to the vet for the kindest act of all this evening.
They estimated her age to be 16, so she hasn't done badly. She's shared some good times with us, and that five year extension to her life was rewarding for all.
My favourite memory of Old Bram:
She loved her walks, and living where we do we had some good long invigorating strolls, her favourite route was along a bridleway leading up to the highest point for miles around, often hit by atrocious weather, but it gave me an excuse to buy some decent gear to accompany her.
She used to love nothing more than sitting and watching rugby with Dad
although she also enjoyed helping me explore the local singletrack
but over the last few months the sparkle faded. She had a couple of stroke-like episodes, and started to become disorientated. The last couple of weeks saw her lose interest in her walks, and she spent most of the day asleep on her favourite sofa. Tests showed she had a problem with her liver, and an attempt at medicating her was a bit too late. She could barely stagger to the garden for a pee and so she made the final journey to the vet for the kindest act of all this evening.
They estimated her age to be 16, so she hasn't done badly. She's shared some good times with us, and that five year extension to her life was rewarding for all.
My favourite memory of Old Bram:
.
