I’m writing about loss. A few days ago we lost our beloved dog Fredder. Short for Frederick Whistlescnozz von Clippen Cloppen. A great name for a marvellous little dog.
Fredder was a rescue dog that my partner saved after a serious car accident, which could easily have killed him 14.5 years ago. At the time the vet estimated his age to be around 1.5 to 2 years old so by convention we celebrated his birthday on the date the vet first logged him on their system.
We tried to find his original owner but gave up after a few weeks. I also realised that despite not wanting to ever experience the pain of losing a dog again, this little man had stolen my heart. I originally called him “Friend” as his eyes were so lively and piercing, and he wanted to interact with us constantly. Even with a broken pelvis, which healed nicely, he tried to break through the wall of his cage to get out to talk to us. We were trying to help him heal but all he wanted to do was play.
His personality was so exuberant and dynamic, we felt he needed a great name. So he became Frederick, inspired by Frederick the Great, and also Friedrich Nietzche, as a sort of in-joke about the psychological stature of terriers.
So began our life with the most lovable, enthusiastic, bundle of joy I have ever met. In early 2023, an X-ray showed that the accident meant that his heart was adhered to one side of his chest but it never slowed him down a bit. He would walk for miles, with his familiar hippedy-hop gait, similar to a horse’s canter.
He would dart around like a small hairy bullet, from point to point. He loved to charge from one room to another, skidding on the floor and smiling with gusto as he crashed into walls, doors etc. He seemed nearly unstoppable.
He would bound up to much bigger dogs to make friends, but mostly just to sniff. “The bigger the dog, the more satisfying the aroma”, we used to joke. Everything in his life revolved around eating, walking & smelling everything within sight. Round our neighbourhood, his walks became legendary for the amount of time invested in sniffing particular trees, bushes and watering holes for various local creatures.
The other salient facet his life revolved around was his obvious love for us, and concern for minding his pack. Everywhere we went, he would guard us from all types of ne’er-do-wells; people, other dogs, felines (that most dratted of creatures). He would politely tell them all to back away from Big dog & Mommy Big Dog, looking up at us for reassurance.
He was insistent on spending every second he could with us. There was no point in trying to put him to bed downstairs, he simply tried to bash the bedroom door down, so he spent almost his entire time with us sleeping in the same room. Over time, we recognised he was the boss of the operation and pretty much told us what to do whenever we were at home. He was in the mould of Plato’s benevolent dictator and we came to see the commands of King Frederick as invariably beneficial for our physical and mental wellbeing. Time for walk, time for dinner, relaxation time. All of these things were vitally important for busy professionals. They were rigidly enforced by Fredder.
And even if he was sometimes 107 dB of persistence when he wanted a walk, look at those adorable eyes. He had the eyes of a creature that had seen things “you people would not believe”, to echo Rutger Hauer’s famous line from Blade Runner. If Fredder had seen attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion, he kept it to himself. His eyes and ears communicated so much and we never wanted our little friend to experience another bad day in his life.
I think we largely succeeded. We did our best to return the love he showed us and as the years rolled on, the pack was so in tune with our respective rituals that he would move around in anticipation of our work trips, holidays when he went into the kennels, arrivals home, bed time excursions in the garden, weekend walks on the beach. He seemed to have an in-built calendar or perhaps an acute awareness of the patterns of life.
We also became aware of the need to support the various rescue dog charities. Every year I would donate money and items for resale to the various charities including Dog’s Trust & Waterford Animal Welfare. These charities help re-home the most wonderful animals you can imagine. If you give them a chance, they can change your lives for the better.
Over time, life without Fredder became unthinkable. Unfortunately, we knew that was an inevitability. As he aged, his eyebrows got lighter and he assumed a gravitas as an elder statesman of the local dogs. One neighbour called him “Our President” as he strolled around saying hello to everyone. Not quite so fast but still vital and energetic.
We knew he couldn’t go on forever, but he was going to bloody well try because he loved life so much. He was always so happy, and so stubbornly in pursuit of a new fragrance, or hazelnut ice-cream. Yes, he adored hazelnut ice-cream. Trying to eat it around him was a risky proposition!
He also cared for his own little friend, a toy bear that he brought everywhere with him. he never damaged the little bear and put “Portabear” to bed each night, cleaning him with his tongue when he felt he needed grooming.
Fastidious is a word we sometimes used to describe how orderly he was, and how he wanted to keep his space clean. The only times he ever peed in the house was when he had an infection many years ago and the week he died. He just didn’t like creating a mess and had specific neighbourhood spots for his precious pee in any event. The “aromatic telegram” as we used to call it.
Of course he slowed down a bit from late 2022 onwards but it was a modest “tail-off”. He still jumped onto the couch, hurled himself off the bed, charged around the house etc. In 2023 he developed a cough that worried us. In UCD veterinary clinic they found a small tumor, which they recommended a treatment protocol for, and a benign growth that could cause hypercalcemia. With his vets in Waterford, we worked out a care plan involving regularly blood tests, zoledronic acid infusions and some NSAIDs.
He appeared very relaxed about these visits and the vets commented that he simply came in every 5-6 weeks, had a snooze on the drip and then became lively again when offered treats and he realised it was time to go home. It just became part of our routine, along with the usual weekend adventures.
Every few weeks the blood tests came back & it was A-OK, the blood panel of a much younger dog.
Everything seemed fine, until it wasn’t. Over a few days he became fatigued, which we misattributed to his disgust over wet weather. He hated the rain as much as he loved hazelnut ice-cream.
That weekend our vet, who had been so great up until then, wasn’t available and with hindsight made a treatment call that turned out not to be the best option. We are still unsure what happened but something sent him into kidney failure quite quickly and we didn’t react fast enough. After a few IV treatments he appeared to recover a bit but that all came undone over a weekend of trauma where he became massively agitated over a dermatitis condition, perhaps comorbid. We will never know. Our vet was unsure as to why a dog with perfect blood tests only 2 weeks prior went into kidney failure. We kept wracking our brains trying to figure out if there was some possibility he ingested something toxic. At a certain stage, you have to leave it go. The guilt will eat you up!
Fredder died a few days later after one beautiful visit to the beach where we carried him to his favourite spot and he sniffed all around him, weakly wagged & greeted another passing dog. He looked out at the horizon, wistfully perhaps, and wondered why his energy had been stolen from him. We tearfully asked that question too.
At the moment he died, no matter how many times we had anticipated it, our collective hearts broke. Over the last 2 weeks, we have come around to accepting the truth that the small but ferociously powerful engine of love that had dominated our lives for so long is gone. He will never be forgotten. Some day we hope to meet a relative of his, however that happens. We know he was a cairn-cross and hope to identify his doggie origins. I wonder will his cousins have some of his unique personality, a mix of forceful and gentle that so entranced us over the years.
We will remember him as he was a few weeks before he died. Full of the joys of life
Why did we love this little man so much? Well I think I summarised it best when my mom was consoling us that we had given him a great life.
We got so much in return. We got his beautiful personality & friendship. A command to exercise when we needed it. Levity when we were stressed & tired. Love and peace when we saw people with hate & conflict. Boundless energy which a cruel disease has stolen in the last week or so. On balance, as good as his side of the relationship has been, we got the better part. Every sigh, snort, leap, run, paw shake and wag has been pure gold
We will continue to donate money to various rescue dog charities and I’m working on an idea for fund-raising involving our favourite activity of walking. Dog shelters need our support as dog abandonment increases. They also need us to adopt dogs. If you can, please consider adopting a dog from a shelter. They have various breeds and if you ask them, they will often keep you on a list for a specific breed.
Some day, we will find ourselves another dog companion. They won’t be Fredder but that’s OK. They will have their own unique quirks, need for and capacity for love. As for Fredder, our little man, we will miss you always. Some day, we will meet you our “huckleberry friend”, at that rainbow’s end, in the song that always made you drift off asleep. Rest in peace.