Death of a best friend

posted by Quokkagirl

I received a moving email the other day from a friend telling me that Archie, her beloved and faithful old Westie had finally lost his battle with cancer.

The last time I saw Archie was a couple of months ago – looking older but still the feisty little man he had always been – busily galloping around the smallholding all day, dealing with the ducks and hens, making sure his estate was all in order, then finally flopping down curled up by the Aga at night – so long as he was touching his mistress’s feet somehow.

My friend is pragmatic by nature and used to dealing with the death of animals – she rears all sorts, is devoted to them, never eats any of them and suffers losses frequently with courage and a philosphical approach.

However, this email was full of exactly the same words, the same emotions and the same pain that would be present when telling of the death of a beloved human.

And of course, those of us who have said goodbye to pets know what it’s like. They are not ‘just a dog, cat, rabbit, ferret or rat’. My brother lost his faithful old springer, Fern, some three years ago and still can’t bear to try and replace her. There seems to be no room in his heart for another yet. She lays beneath a beautiful stone in his garden with her name lovingly chiselled by his own hand. And he still has pictures of her on his phone that he will happily show around. She was the best friend he ever had and is unashamedly grieving for her still.

The love for a Best Friend is pure – like the love for a baby.
Nothings spoils that love because there are no bad memories. They never hurt you, never spoil your life like humans can – they only ever enhance.

I was shocked the other day to be told by a devout Anglican that animals do not have souls. I didn’t dignify their comment with a response. Tell that to those who have wept over the loss of their pets and whose pets practically joined souls with their owners in their lifetime.

In my local vets there is a little corner put aside to display a range of mini urns for amimals. It’s so good to see that the pain of losing our Best Friends is both openly and unashamedly acknowledged at last.

A poem for our Best Friends.

Four Feet

I have done mostly what most men do,
And pushed it out of my mind;
But I can’t forget, if I wanted to,
Four-Feet trotting behind.

Day after day, the whole day through —
Wherever my road inclined —
Four-feet said, “I am coming with you!”
And trotted along behind.

Now I must go by some other round,
Which I shall never find
Somewhere that does not carry the sound
Of Four-Feet trotting behind.

 Rudyard Kipling