Whisky the Springer Spaniel - my boy


Whisky was my dog from the moment I got him until the moment he died, and I feel incredible guilt about the way he died because he was a super fit boy and it only happened due to a boarding kennel we trusted and their lack of care.

We moved to Northern Spain seven years ago,the dogs knew something was up and were quiet the whole drive through France,wedged into three dog shaped holes in the back.

They had a whale of a time being here riding,swimming in the sea and the rivers, our village backs onto mountains so is perfect springer country.

The first time we took them riding they disappeared through the trees down a very steep slope- then there were two huge splashes as they found the river at the bottom,though for the last year Whisky had to come up on the front of my saddle for a rest,it's a bit much when you're 13!.

Their whole time here was wonderful,then in feb 2007 Bonnie died we ,think she was poisoned, nov 2008 we had to have Spencer down because of a thyroid problem,that year we didnt want to go to the UK for xmas because of Spencer going, but ended up going out of family guilt.

When I picked him up four weeks later he stank of pee,his bed was soaked in it,he was such a clean body he was obviously distressed, had a matted coat and bite marks on both ears and was so exhausted couldnt keep his eyes open.

I gave him a bath when I got home and was shocked to see his weight loss and took him to the vet the next day. He had lost 3.8 kilos and had a lot of blood tests, he had developed a urine infection the week he went into kennels and they had done nothing about it,he had two days of me sitting for three hours with him each time while they cleaned his kidneys out.

We had two weeks of fun with a lovely 1 yr old springer bitch we got, she made him so happy- then on the monday I went to the vets who told me he had three weeks left, we thought we had caught it- at that point my husband was halfway through a flight to Australia,so he had that great news when he landed.

On the friday he wasnt right- he enjoyed his walk, tail non stop but was weaving like a drunk, at 3.45 pm I picked up the phone to call the vet to make an come out and put him to sleep but he started to fit, the 20 min drive to the vets took nine minutes, I left the car with the keys in the middle of the street, the vet seemed to take an eternity getting the needle sorted but he died in my arms at ten past four on the 6th march 2009.

The worse thing apart from the guilt is the fact that as his system shut down it took him such a long time to die because he was so fit, and after eleven years of having my fabulous boy, a year and four months on all I can think of when I think about him is hearing his claws clicking againt the back door of the car as he fitted on the way to the vets.

Whisky thank you for all the unconditional love- I am so sorry x

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