Greg Canty Fuzion Blog

As I lay there in the dark I just didn’t want the day to start, not this day.

Our little Bert had been sick for about two months, starting with refusing to go on walks, getting extremely picky with his food, and now it had got to the most serious state with no eating at all, drinking loads and loads of water and he was weak and reduced to skin and bone.

We had been back and forth to the vet in Ballydehob each day for nearly a week – it started with a blood test that pointed towards a particular serious issue, and each visit was to administer injections of anti-biotics, vitamins and something to perk up his appetite. Despite Bert’s protests and ability to snap, Tim the vet kept on reassuring him “I’m your friend”.

At the end of this process, the kindest and most gentle vet, Tim, did another blood test which revealed that there was little or no progress and he was out of answers. As well as an “end of life” conversation which we weren’t ready to hear, he recommended the Veterinary Specialists Hospital in Cork for more detailed tests and analysis.

At this stage we were clinging onto the faintest amount of hope – maybe something was missing, and if these tests were to discover what it was, Bert would be back in business.

It was a quiet night as we mulled over the depressing news, so we all went to bed exhausted. Bert lay peacefully in his bed on my side of our bed and unusually there was no sound of his stomach grumbling, just him sleeping peacefully.

I woke in the early hours after having a dream about him and everything felt perfect at that moment.

Could it just stay dark and we could all be peaceful and not face the day?

The next day came and we made a decision to head back to the city in the event that we might be able to get an appointment at the Veterinary Specialists Hospital in Little Island, Cork.

Shane the vet called us and we were all set for 1:30. At this stage Bert was so weak Dee had to carry him everywhere.

We met Shane, another kind, gentle, extremely professional man who explained in detail the procedure, and the range of tests that they would do to get the bottom of what was wrong.

He was so gentle with Bert, carefully sitting on the ground to put him at ease. They did a quick examination of him and took some blood tests and we waited for the first results with our little boy in Dee’s arms staring at us, as vested in a possible “magic” solution that we were.

20 minutes passed and Shane appeared – our poor little Bert was in an awful state. Even though his organs were still working fine there was a large mass in his little tummy that seemed to be causing all of the havoc. It could have been there for a long time.

After carefully explaining all the possible next steps and the likely outcome from these and many questions from us, the very kindest thing that we could do was to send our little Bert peacefully on his way. Us confirming that we would do this was one of the hardest things that we ever had to say.

He dimmed the lights, he prepped our boy as we caressed his beautiful face and we said goodbye to him as he gently slipped away as.

While it was the most awful thing, it was beautiful to be able to say goodbye to him in such a lovely place surrounded by such abundance kindness. Shane told us about his own dog and his similar experiences.

Dee was inconsolable, and after trying to be the “strong” man for his wife, I broke down in a way that I have never done before and I wept and wept in that consulting room as we were left there with our precious little Bert one last time. We rubbed his little head and body and kissed him in a way that we were never able to do before.

We left Bert with the lovely Shane who has already organised cremation and a cast of his paw print for us.

Now to be clear, the little Bert I have been talking about was no angel !!

This scoundrel was a rescue dog who we had for 10 years – he must have been abused before we had him because if he saw hands, anyone’s hands coming towards him he would snap. Everyone that visited were given the Bert warning, and the few that ignored it understood very quickly why we gave them the warning in the first place.

We brought him into our lives as a companion for Honey and the minute he was settled in he ruled the roost and she knew all about it, as we all did!

We always said that if Bert was a person (he was that to us) he would be a door to door salesman and he would probably drink the harshest of whiskey neat.

This no hands rule even applied to us – he was extremely loving, he would jump on your lap or cuddle right up next to you on the couch but always on his terms – do not dare rub him!

We always said he was the best communicator – he would bark the house down at deliverymen, at strangers visiting the house, when he wanted to get out for a pee or when he was hungry. Even a few months ago that distinctive bark had got hoarse and in all honestly it had rarely been heard recently.

He wasn’t too fond of other dogs – despite his size (Dee would always say he thinks he is a Rottweiler!) he would be the first to show teeth and ask questions after, but after a while he would relax and he had a few good dog pals. He loved Ellen’s two, Winnie and Kai.

He was always my work buddy, sitting alongside me which of course started during the Covid home working restrictions, he watched all of the Liverpool matches with me, and if I stayed up late watching TV he was always the one to stay up with me, making sure he didn’t miss a trick.

I didn’t want this day to start but it had to, and now our Best Boy Bert had to say goodbye and go to a better place (maybe he will wait for us and we will hear than unmistakable bark again?).

His bed in my office is empty, his food bowl doesn’t need to be filled, there is one dog bed in the car and not two, and our hearts are completely broken.

Thank you Best Boy Bert for the great times, we love you and you live on forever in our hearts.

The best of fun is the worst of tears…

Greg