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The Death of our Dog

A short story about our dog Benjie, who had to be put down recently. Answers the question "why do we have pets?"

Author: Jonathan Barnes

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Just recently I had to have our dog put down, an experience so emotionally painful it forced me to wonder why it was that we allowed ourselves to form such a bond with a non human being. After all, looked at dispassionately, it is odd behaviour to permit members of another species to wonder freely about our homes, to use our furniture and demand to be fed at regular intervals.

When my father died, some ten years ago, we inherited Benjie, a Jack Russel terrier, who was adopted by our family with some reservations, since his habits were not altogether pleasant. He attacked other dogs, he rolled in fox poo, and once off the lead he was difficult to recover. Yet bit by bit he endeared himself to us, establishing a place for himself in our pack, till the day came when a family gathering without him was a family missing one member.

This pattern is repeated everywhere in millions of homes, with cats and dogs and rabbits and birds being included in routines and important decisions. It is all the more remarkable since words play no part in this chemistry. We cannot reason with them, nor make deals or jokes. We cannot discuss our hopes or ideas. And yet they remain our constant companions, unaffected by petty squabbles and the ups and downs of daily life. Our pets don’t stand in judgement upon us. They are genuine and direct and accept us as we are.

This is not to say that animals are simple. The older I get the more convinced I become that animals have inner lives, and although these might be substantially different from our own, they can still be valid and deserving of respect.

Animals care about their young. They fear violence, enjoy warmth and physical contact and affection. They can also be show-offs, be greedy, selfish and even suffer embarrassment. For example, Benjie one day noticed a cat sitting provocatively at the top of our drive. He rushed towards it, barking ferociously, only to discover when but ten feet away from it, that it was merely a black plant pot blown on to its side. He immediately pretended that he had not been chasing it after all, and veered off at a tangent, barking at nothing in particular, until his composure had been re-established, and he felt able to slink back indoors, taking a circuitous route through the bushes.

It was incidents such as this that accumulated to form his loveable character.

If it easy to enjoy a pet when it is young and vigorous, it can be somewhat different as its health declines and its problems increase.

In old age Benjie became deaf and almost blind. He would consume water in vast quantities, and whimper piteously if he were denied it. Minutes later it would pour from the other end, its volume apparently doubling on the way. But more distressing was the deterioration of his brain. He was restless, unhappy, and increasingly alienated from the rest of his family. Friends were surprised that we kept him alive.

Then, after months of deliberation, we made the commitment to have him put down.

The decision was difficult, not to say painful, but it had become clear to us that our distress at losing him should not be allowed to outweigh his distress at remaining alive.

We watched the needle being placed in his leg, comforting and caressing his frail little body, and supporting him with love to the very last second, and beyond. The tears we shed were a testament to all the emotion which Benjie had cultivated in our hearts during his lifetime.

Despite his bad habits I’m glad that I knew him, for when he was around I knew that I was alive. And that’s what pets do.

About Author

The owner of Benjie was Jonathan Barnes, an artist, sculptor, writer and director of http://www.thebookmarkshop.com The Bookmark Shop. You are welcome to have a browse in the shop, who specialise in bookmarks including the famous InsightsTM range of credit card sized bookmarks.

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The Death of our Dog