I got Bandit as a puppy for the kids. I figured that a dog would teach them to be caring and responsible. Well, you know how it is with kids and puppies. And how it is with fathers. I was the one who got her house trained, who fed her and took her out for walks.
Bandit learned fast. She was part border collie which made her attentive and obediant except for one thing. She hated the leash. Still, I tried to keep it on her till I realized that I hated the leash, too. So we came to understanding, man and dog
No leash - as long as we kept an eye on one another and always stuck close. She only cheated when she saw a squirrel. I only cheated when I saw someone to gab with.
When I went jogging she'd race nearby scouring the bushes. She was like a roving shadow, all black but for a flash of teeth and tongue and her colorful bandana. A few times she actually caught a squirrel to my great horror and her delight. She'd clench onto it like a bushy moustache and before I could intervene, it was devoured.
My daughter wouldn't speak to her for days. "Squirrel breath!" she'd growl at the dog who would cower at her tone though not with any guilt about a well caught meal.
Bandit had an easy hippie life while we lived in Wolseley. I'd let her out to wander and she'd be home by supper. She could charm a stone statue and had no trouble gaining handouts from the neighbours. And gaining weight. I finally had to tie a sign around her, "Please stop feeding me - I'll get a heart attack!"
She even made the rounds during our summers at Victoria Beach. One Saturday night she didn't return at all and we searched the bushes and ditches fearing the worst. She showed up Sunday morning looking quite perky but without a hint of where she'd been. The mystery was solved a year later while I was garage saling in Winnipeg. "I know that dog!" a woman exclaimed, peering into my car. "That dog slept over at my house!" It seems Bandit had invited herself into the woman's party at a cottage about a mile down the road. Bandit must have been quite the party animal because next morning the woman found her sleeping under the kitchen table. She scrounged a few more snacks and ambled home.
Life and times grew more restrictive when we moved to Crescentwood where dogs do not run free. It didn't take long for the neighbours to socialize both dog and master and soon we were
dutifuly trudging down the lane each morning and evening, Bandit jingling with dog tags and me carrying the mandatory plastic bag so I could pick up her commentaries on our new neighbourhood. But no leash. A deal's a deal.
At 15 she had a seizure and then another. I rushed her to the vet and felt myself go numb when the vet shook her head and told me it was best to put her down. "Leave her here," the vet said. "The fits will only get worse," the vet said. Leave her here. It's easier for everyone." Confused and frightened I took Bandit home saying I'd bring her back once the family said goodbye. Within a couple hours as predicted, Bandit had another seizure.
I called my son long distance to let him know. He accepted everything but he must have sensed my ambivalence. "It's so sudden, Dad. Why don't you spend one last night with her."
So I did, sleeping on the couch beside her, hoping it would prepare us for the next day. However, dreams were telling me to wait and in the morning neither Bandit nor the family seemed ready. I kept remembering the vet saying, "Best to put her down before she gets worse. It's easier for everyone." Yet I kept feeling that letting go so quickly would not easier, that we needed more, not less suffering, before either she or we could accept her dying.
"Bandit has always stuck with me," I told myself. "I'm going to stick with her until she gives me some sort of sign." We waited for a day and then another. No more seizures. Soon she'd recovered completely. That was a year and a half ago and we're grateful for that extra time.
The sign came last week though she'd been getting feeble for some time. Suddenly, Bandit stopped eating, stopped managing the stairs, even stopped getting up for walks. There were more signs in her last hours - a bird dying in the wading pool, a wall mirror cracking in half, things breaking in our hands. We drove her to the vet and we said goodbye as we watched her take the needle without her even stirring. There was a lot of suffering that day. All the suffering we needed.
I got Bandit as a puppy for the kids. I figured that a dog would teach them to be caring and responsible. I had no idea how much that dog would be teaching me.
THE END