R.I.P. Sandy

 Sandy died on the fourth of November 2023; the cause was old age. He had been going downhill for a long time, many months. We were with him at the end. Even now, 4 years later, there's an emotional lurch bringing it back to mind.

A characteristic photo of Sandy looking suspiciously at me.

Bye bye, my friend.

Sandy and the Sky

What's that bigger star Dad, the creamy white one?

It's not a star, it's a satellite of earth called the moon.

Who lives there Dad?

No one Sandy, it's barren and can't support any life.

How do you know that?

Men have been there to investigate, they brought bits of it back with them for research, it was proven empty of all life.

Any dogs been there?

No, none.

Sandy Hears of Animal Testing

Laika

We were out in the back garden, it's dog safe so the little rascal can't escape to harry livestock or indeed his doggy neighbours. I looked up at the sky, it was clear and dark, myriads of stars were shining, that's one big advantage of living at the end of a country lane where there are no street lights.
Sandy cantered about with  a big smile on his face, now here, now there, investigating, sniffing to see what had intruded on his patch tonight.

I watched until, eventually, he sat back on his haunches and looked up at the night sky.
What's that Dad?

Sky Sandy.

What is it?

It's the universe, its everything there is that isn't here.

He didn't look too convinced by my attempt at explanation.

The Battle of Wounded Knee

Sandy hobbled into the sitting room,

"How's the leg Sandy?"

"Not too bad Dad, it only really hurts when I jump up on something."

"That's why we have stood up the seat cushions on the sofas, to stop you jumping up, but it doesn't always work, does it?"

"Don't dig me up Dad please, I'm a sick dog."

On moving house and country.

Last time I wrote Sandy was a Scottish dog living in Glasgow, in this post he announces his removal to Suffolk in England.

I came into the sitting room in our little cottage in Suffolk to find Sandy in his new red bed, he was looking a bit sorry for himself so I asked him if he was OK.

I'm fine I suppose.

You suppose, what does that mean?

Dad, it means I'm not sure, you know that, humans say it all the time.

Yes, that's true Sandy, what do you think might be wrong.

Well I'm in the wrong place for one thing.

Now Sandy we've moved house to be nearer Lauren who will be working in London.

That's fair enough but you did it without consulting me.

It's not usual to consult dogs on these matters.

Sandy really sings his blues.

I woke at 8 this morning to the sound of Liz closing her car door on her way to work. Sandy barked, just once, then was quiet. I was only vaguely aware of it as I rose up through the mist to consciousness. Then he started to howl and "sing". I've never heard him do that before and initially had no idea what was going on so got up and rushed downstairs.

Sandy dances, literally bounces between front and back paws repeatedly, his tail whipping the air to a froth, when he sees me & realises he's not alone.

"Hey Sandy, what's the matter with you?"

Bird Watching

We've had three days of sun in Glasgow for this time of year that's good in these parts. At the weekend I had Sandy out with me whilst I worked in the garden, after a couple of hours of tidying I took a break for coffee, rest & rumination.

Looking a bit snooty.

Sitting on the deck I'm watching Sandy following scents round my flower beds, a big pigeon lands on the grass about ten feet from him and begins nonchalantly nibbling on insects, Sandy spots it immediately and plans his attack. Dropping low to the ground he gets behind the bird, he's quivering with excitement, judging when to launch himself at this barefaced intruder. Sandy leaps up and throws himself forward, the pigeon rises into the air, ages before Sandy reaches the spot where it used to be, looking up at it Sandy growls and his hackles rise.