Today has been one of those traumatic events that nobody should live through.
Last night my old friend, Scamp, seemed to be having difficulties negotiating our usual evening walk around the town and ended up almost at a crawl.
I was alarmed when she did not eat her evening meal but went straight to bed.
She slept well through the night but did not fully awake this morning. She vomitted a couple of times and seemed to be incontinent – and then lay down by my feet and moved only when she vomitted again and had to get her head out of it. For five hours I tried to get a vet to make a house call but was unsuccessful – Saturday, it seems, is like Sunday – inviolable.
When I had run out of people to call, all I could do was sit and watch Scamp as she lay, apparently in no pain, in the middle of the carpet or wriggled to get her head out of the vomit. Eventually she gave a few coughs and died at about 4pm.
Scamp has been my constant companion since I came to Spain and rescued her from being drowned as the unwanted last of a litter. She has given me a great deal in return for little more than food to eat and a dry place to sleep. We have covered thousands of miles in our walks and, despite her unfortunate habit of eating anything that came within teeth reach, was excellent company and very loyal.
I know I will miss her and I also realise that I am in danger of over-compensating and spoiling Chap.
I truly hope that there is a heaven for dogs and that Scamp is there with Abbie. Certainly the corpse at my feet is not Scamp any more.
Goodbye old Friend