Monday, August 5, 2013

About a dog

Cù Mór (Onaim Dogzilla)
Born:August 24, 2002-adopted: January 30, 2010-died:July, 27, 2013
When I last posted it was about how our activities here were all backburnered while we took care of our sick dog, Cù. Sadly, while at first things looked good that he might walk, aided, again, he took a turn for the worse and his body couldn't fight any longer. On the 27th we had to say good-bye to this wonderful soul.

Cù was our fourth Greyhound we lost, the fifth one we adopted. Irony, Bran and Scolaighe were there to greet him and he is now buried with them.  Òrlaith is now mourning her boy, as are the Aussie crosses Gleann and Sachairi.

Those who came before: Irony, Bran and Scolaighe
Snuggling Gleann
 Cù was really classically a Greyhound, with that ability they have to be simultaneously elegant and goofy.  He loved to snuggle, whether it was people or other dogs. He could also be rambunctious and this
sometimes confused people.

Snuggling Sach
One story that sticks out is when we went to Chicago the year we adopted him, the pack, then him, Òrlaith and Gleann were so close we didn't want them in separate kennels as the kennels the place we were boarding in were large anyway.  When they were going in to feed the day before we got back, they here a fight and found Òrlaith bleeding from the ear.   Figuring that Cù had attacked her, as he was big and male and she was the one bleeding, they exiled him to another pen.  We got there and, well, their story of him attacking her seemed off to us. When we got into the car, it was clear....that was not what happened. He cringed as far from her as he could get in the back of the car.  When she moved he cringed further.  Meanwhile, Gleann and Òrlaith snuggled.

They made up, of course
When we got him home we took a closer look at him and he had two bites, not real deep but evident if you bothered to look.   Òrlaith had no bite marks at all, just the scrapped ear. What obviously happened was he got excited, as meal times got him, and jumped on her, as he sometimes does to others but not her, usually.  She corrected him, got her ear scraped by the unfortunately rough wall and the kennel staff, not knowing dogs very well, didn't even check to see if he was hurt, just punished him further by separating him. Which also delayed their making up and left him terrified of her for days. (no, we're not likely to board there ever again)

While Cù might have been ruled by Òrlaith, he was a kindly patriarch to the fluffy boys. The closeness of them all was demonstrated often. Sadly, it's not demonstrated by their intense mourning.

He apparently also remembered his first family. I became friendly with the woman who cares for one of his littermate sisters, Annie.  We had taken Cù to be euthanized on Saturday morning, getting there just before noon.  The vet came out and gave his sleep shot, then went back in to get the euthanasia drug and let the shot work while we petted and cuddled him.  The noon bell rang. A few minutes later the vet came out and sent him to the other side, we never saw the exact time. At 12:06 Annie who had been sleeping woke up, startled.  She spent the day being very clingy, which was unlike her.  To us and to her person it's obvious he came by.

Just as it's often clear he's here still at times. I'm sure he will be, with our other hounds, when we celebrate Lùnasdal later this month.

I regret deeply that we were not able to help Cù as I had hoped. I do not regret the time we spent with him in his last weeks. Sometimes it was very hard, but that only makes the loss all the deeper.  Our animals are our life, really, and our sacred trust.

He was a magnificent, beautiful hound, showing a true legacy of the ancient Celtic Hound he was descended from. I know there is much more that should be said, but even after over a week, I seem unable to manage as well as I'd like. I'll update his page soon, but I still am not able to. Still dealing with this in steps.

Cù demonstrating his ancestral hunting skills on a stuffy