Someone I would love to have met

Well yours truly is now officially upwardly mobile..... I am now on Facebook. Not sure if that's a good thing or not everybody knowing what I get up to.... Will have to wait and see. Having said that, you will all remember that I am only fourteen weeks old and still having trouble getting my paws to fit the computer, so give me a bit of latitude if I don't get to talk to you straight away. Just had aunty Sarah join it.... Guess what , she had to do it on my computer herself. LOL. Anyway, last night after a serious amount of prompting I got she who must be obeyed to tell me of someone I would love to have met... Great uncle Finnigan. Now it's his first anniversary on valentines day, so he has been popping up in conversation and she has been wandering through his pictures with very red eyes. So I thought that may be like Trinity and Archie's mum and dad it would be good to hear stories of their doings. Finnigan was born somewhere around Nov 2008 to a St Bernard breeder who seemed to have lost the plot, the end result being that in excess of 100 dogs were taken into care by the RSPCA. After about six months and three eye operations it was decided that he might be fit enough to be homed if someone could be found who would be able to cope with his problems. He was small and nearly blind with any amount of problems yet to come. His mother had been starved while she carried her litter and he father could have been any other dog in the kennel, so his general health was questionable anyway.. Now She who must be obeyed has been known to take the odd rescue in, all on the big side, and one of the area managers knew her so she got a phone call from the centre that he was at. Infact she got four, but the first one did the job knowing her... Anyway on the May bank holiday, they both took a trip out to meet The Finnigan. Sufficient to say, she spent the Saturday, Sunday and the Monday with him , teaching him to play, and sitting in the little tea room with his so he got used to the chaos and confusion that any life with Berners is full of. On the Monday Finnigans eyes were really bad again, so she asked that as soon as the vet was available Tuesday he be referee again. On the Tuesday the vet rang her with an update. She had just finished surgery on his eyes and in her opinion there would never be any improvement and they would only deteriorate as he got older. She who must be obeyed asked what would happen if she didn't take him, and was told probably A SHORT LIFE EXPECTANCY. Guess what, she and Merlin picked him up that Friday and that was that. Now can you imagine this crazy woman lifting a part grown St B into a van with Merlin in attendance all the windows wide open cause he smelt so bad, and phoning the girls at work to go to the pet shop and fetch some shampoo and put the hot water on..... Poor Finny he must have wondered what the devil was going on. The good point was that he got three women bathing drying and massaging him and he loved every minute of it, and that was at work. When it came to going home , the performance was repeated but with the windows shut, and just Merlins delicate nose slightly wrinkled. I think it must have taken a brave or a crazy dog to walk into the house that I have come to know... In hind sight I would say an incredibly brave dog! Finnigans problems included cream in his eyes more or less every day as he not so slowly went blind, hip dysplacia and a very delicate digestive system , which meant he struggled to eat all the nice things that we canines take for granted. When it came to going for a walk, the van would come out and a straight lane would be found and all the dogs would get out together and have a mad few minutes....all except Finnigan. He would stand quite still until Freya found her way to his left shoulder, and she would take him up the lane by gently bouncing off his left shoulder. If he started going the wrong direction she would move one way or the other, so she either pushed him right, or he would come left till he felt her there again. The other dogs would stay close and guard against low flying pheasants and speeding rabbits. Which ever way you look at it, that was one amazing family Finnigan was part of. The Old Trout, would follow in the van and pick up the dogs one at a time as they grew tired, Finnigan always unfortunately being the first. He would lie in the side door way, with his paws hooked over the edge, and let the wind blow over his face and flap his ears and as each dog jumped in to join him he would give them a nudge. Now you know why a quiet straight lane was so important. When he went out on a lead either Merlin or Freya always went with him and he took immense pleasure in talking to other dogs and their people. When you think of what he went through, it makes you wonder where his courage and acceptance of people came from. When he was about two, probably because of his digestive problems he went down with bloat and was rushed to the vets. Their immediate solution was euthanasia, because of his background, but she who must be obeyed told them in no uncertain terms that it was her money and to get on with it. At about midnight the vets rang and said he had survived the surgery but was very very poorly. The following morning they rang again and said that they would be keeping him for the next four days to see if he ate or otherwise. SHE asked if there would always be someone there and what his medication was... The answers didn't suit her so they went and fetched him home... Against the vets advice. As far as my family were concerned Finnigan had spent seven months in a kennel through no fault of his own, and if he was going then he would be warm, comfortable and with the ones that loved him. Problem with her indoors is she can be so stubborn where we are concerned. We come first and that's it... Anyway, Finnigans first meal was all the chicken off the top of a Tandori chicken pizza, and his second was a third of a sausage roll. Not perhaps standard Hills but who cares if it works.? Anyway he slowly got through the worst of it, until his appointment two weeks later to have the staples removed. All was well until he went in, and then they found that he hadn't healed internally and had to do more surgery then and there. Poor old boy, your heart goes out to him.. He was so brave all the way through it. Eventually after weeks of tlc he seemed to be on the up, and enjoying life again, until Feb 14 th last year. Now that day is busy for the boss lady and with the exception of Merlin, the others got the day off. When she who must be obeyed walked through the door she took one look at Finnigan and realised that the bloat had come back... And rushed him back to the vets. The consensus of opinion was that it was gas as his stomach had been stitched in place so a full torsion was impossible.... So they released the gas and sent him home. Unfortunately for him all was not well. .... And sometime through the night Finnigan , with the dogs around him slipped quietly away, having reached the grand old age of two and a half. Freya was never the same again, and has only just started getting over his loss. Mum reckons that I am partly responsible for that, so I will continue to creep up behind her, and nip her leg and run away until she tells me to stop. So that is the tale of the incredibly brave and loving Finnigan, whose pictures decorate the walls at home, along with other family ancestors... All loved and missed. Since I was told his story I keep thinking that I would have loved to have met him, and what an honour that would have been. Sleep peacefully Finny, they miss you..... Cool runnings Gryff