Sometimes one is reminded quite sharply and unexpectedly that life can resemble the proverbial female canine. Also, one can never assume.
I used to be in control of my emotions, never crying in public and never really angry either, but since Hein’s accident I lost most of that control and am now as vulnerable as the next mother. I resent every moment of this and spend a lot of energy trying to regain control. After we lost our dogs, we obtained a few puppies because life lacks a certain je ne sais quoi without wagging tails at one’s feet. My son Dirk got himself a Boston Terrier. Little Yaris was, at ten weeks old, excessively cute but independent, his own man so to speak. Unfortunately Yaris also has a serious colon problem, resembling irritable bowel syndrome, he is either constipated or has a runny tummy. The upshot of this condition became clear one Saturday morning, the day we celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary – nogal!
Yaris was constipated and had a rectal prolaps, which meant that I started the day with a finger up a dog’s arse! Dirk was almost running away at the sight, so Mommy Dearest had to phone the vet and follow instructions on getting everything back in place. Fortunately only about one centimetre of the rectum protruded at that stage, but unfortunately we put him down after a while, and he promptly proceeded to push out twice the length! This time, after I omce again ‘fixed’ everything, Dirk held him in his arms until the vet’s office opened. The vet put two stitches in to keep everything in place and Yaris got to spend the day at our celebration together with Dirk, while the other dogs had to wait at home.
I boiled Yaris some rice and chicken and fed him small meals five times a day, which seemed to work quite well. Until Valentine’s Day that is ….
The stitches came out ten days before and Yaris was on a mild laxative to keep his stool soft, we never suspected a prolaps again. Dirk had just fed the puppies and was watching them licking out their bowls when he yelled: “ O, no! Ma! Look! “ The prolaps was back with a vengeance.
This time I was armed with some piles ointment and sharpened skill, so the process went fairly smoothly. Dirk had to go to work so I held Yaris in my arms all the time. Fortunately he is still quite small so I held his two hind legs between my fingers and his little head tucked under my arm, and there he dangled quite happily upside down, ogling the world from a different angle.
I wrote Dirk an sms, reminding him that I will call him after I have spoken to the vet, and that he will have to make a decision. Yaris will either have to have surgery, or be put to sleep, because his quality of life was seriously compromised. He is still very young and there is not much point in dragging on like this, the puppy is in pain.
I wanted to be at the vet as early as possible and woke Hein asking him to hold the puppy while I take a bath and get ready. He took the puppy and almost immediately put it down on the floor. I picked it back up and said slowly and clearly: “ Don’t put him down. Take your coffee mug in one hand and hold Yaris in the other. “
A little tired and stressed out myself, I didn’t notice Hein’s emotional distress when he realised that Yaris had to get to the vet quickly and that the whole trauma of the previous Saturday was repeating itself.
Once again he put Yaris down, once again I picked him right back up and, carefully thinking about choice of words, said: “ Hold him in your arms until I take him from you. “ Hein held Yaris only a few minutes, by the time I opened the taps and popped back to the kitchen to check, Yaris was back on the floor. Quite exasperated by then, I grabbed Yaris, shoved him in Hein’s arms and said in a very firm voice: “ Hold him!” Hein looked up at me with that little boy look (which I did not notice then) and said in his little boy voice (which I did not hear) : “Don’t yell at me Mum “
I did not take a deep breath, instead I sort of gently exploded: “ I’m not yelling! Yet. Pull yourself together! Now! “ He turned away, and I only realised later its because his eyes filled up with tears. My parting shot? “ Hold the damn dog! “
Yaris was still in his arms when I returned. I took Yaris from him, asked Hein to start the car, wrote Hein a list of what he must do, grabbed my handbag and rushed out. Fortunately, while I was getting dressed, I realised that Hein was upset and may not take his tablets or have breakfast, hence the hastily scribbled note.
Driving down the dirt road, Yaris was decidedly unhappy to be in the cat carrier. He screwed up his little face, bundled his lips into a perfect little ‘o’ and howled.
That was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. At first it was a fleeting thought ‘I was a little hard on Hein’ but then I started thinking about it, and pretty soon I was beating myself up for being such a lousy mother who yells at her son instead of comforting him when he is upset. Unfortunately it’s quite a long way to town and the vets office, which gave me way too much time to think and analyse what just happened. By the time I passedHenley-on-Klip, the tears were streaming down my face, and I was crying my heart out, in serious competition with the still howling Yaris.
I managed to take a few deep breaths, almost composed myself and glanced over at Yaris who mysteriously also piped down. He tilted his head to one side and peeped at me through the little window, and instantly had me back in tears, which he copied by howling again. The road to town was never this long before, I thought we would never get there. It was a little like playing in a comedy horror movie, only it was broad daylight and nobody yelled: “Cut!”
Arriving at the consulting rooms, I took Yaris out of the cat carrier, holding him tight, taking a moment to compose myself. Entering reception, Lorinda immediately asked what was happening with Yaris, but I almost rudely walked right past her, asking for some water to drink. Soon after the younger vet called us over, it was decisionmakingtime.
I called Dirk and he decided on surgery. I was quite relieved that at least the decision was made, left Yaris there and went straight to Wimpy for some well deserved coffee. Contemplating my ‘crash’ I realised I was more upset by the contrast between Hein’s behaviour on Sunday and Tuesday, than about Yaris or any of Hein’s actual actions that morning. We had friends over on Sunday, and Hein was having a ball, remembering everybodys’ names, helping his dad with the food, putting up the gazebo, making drinks for the guests and generally being a normal, happy young man. The helpless little boy came as such a shock that I just could not cope with him at that moment.
We thought Hein was doing very well, that he was almost back to his old self, just about 20 years old again, which made the downward slope steeper and all the more slippery. Although we learned to cope with Hein’s emotional rollercoaster – he went from teenager to adult to child several times a day, every day – he was stabilising on late teenager and the young adult he really is. The sudden regression hit me hard, and I was not prepared, that explains my tears.
That said, I must add that God’s grace is always a prayer away, and I managed to compose myself within a few minutes, as soon as we reached the vet’s office. I was grateful when Dirk and the vet decided on the surgery, and happily fetched the puppy the next day, to feed him every four hours, buy him special food, give his medication and organise my life around his needs. Every hour of my life was determined by the needs of my son and this puppy. My comings and goings revolved around the times they needed attention and medication. I never complained because Yaris was getting better, Hein was regaining his equilibrium, and it was all just temporary.
Hein’s friend Francois was keeping his horse fit and was riding him at an endurance ride that very weekend. We packed our stuff, I fed Yaris one last time before we left, and wrote a complete list with detailed instructions on exactly how Yaris and the other puppies must be fed and taken care of. All went well, until Sunday morning. Dirk gave Yaris his midmorning feed and then took him outside for a wee. Dirk went into his house only to rush back out when he heard a racket outside. Nobody knows why, but fact is that the adult fox terrier, and the oldest of the puppies, turned on Yaris and was yanking at his legs, ‘playing’ way too rough for such a fragile little pup who had surgery only days before.
Dirk was there within a moment but it was too late, Yaris went limp and stopped yelping. It was all over in a few minutes, before Dirk could get to a vet to try to save him.
Looking back, I’m not sorry it happened, I’m rather glad for the joy that Yaris brought Dirk and the rest of us in the few weeks he lived with us. I now know that Dirk will be a wonderful, caring father, should he have kids one day. My son took really good care of his puppy, and spared no cost to save him and make him comfortable.
Tongue in cheek: It gives me hope for the day that my husband and I may need taking care of, it looks like the kids may very well be there for us.
I do regret not being there to console Dirk, but looking at the incident earlier the week, I can see it’s all for the best. I may very well have fallen apart, and that is the worst thing I can imagine to happen to both Dirk and me.
Once again I just have to mention friends who helped carry the load when we needed it most – Estelle, Moekie, Karin, Alexander, without you we would have been infinitely more miserable, Thank you.
Ten survival tips:
Cry when you have to;
Stop crying when you have to;
Do what needs to be done;
Do lip circles when your lips are quivering and you are too emotional to think;
Drink water in moments of stress;
Leave the responsibility with the responsible person, don’t take it on yourself;
A change of scenery makes a world of difference, go have some Wimpy coffee, even if the waiter stares at your red eyes;
Say you’re sorry when you are, hug and tell your loved ones that you love them;
Accept your own imperfection, know that you will and may make mistakes;
Breathe.
