Thoughts for Bev and Mo please

Falkor’s Story….

dont be sad – he was named after a luck dragon and we too are lucky to have found him – he was very special  

February 2000 – a very cold winter month, clumber rescue received a call from a dog pound in Leeds. We think we have a clumber spaniel – but we are not sure as we have never seen one in the flesh – we have looked in a book and that’s the closest we can get, he is in a bit of a bad way but wondered if you would like to check him out and if he is a CS then put him into your rescue? so early one Saturday morning, in a snow storm, we trekked up to Leeds – we live in Rugby. Upon arrival at the grottiest, most under funded pound I have ever been to, we were escorted down a long row of kennels, filled with staffies, staffie x’s , greyhounds and lurchers; my other half way in front, me trailing behind, trying not look but wanting to acknowledge all the poor unwanted dogs barking and crying for attention. I heard Mo say – hole in one,  that’s a clumber – and my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach at the sight of a young boy – 18 months or so, crouching quietly in the corner having neither the will or the energy to do anything else.  Having thanked the hard working staff; who informed us that the local dog warden had received a report of a large white dog wandering the streets 3 weeks previously, we made a quick exit to the car where we lifted him in, gently wrapped him in vet bedding and made the journey back home with the windows half open –  to stop us gagging at the smell, and with the heater full on because I was worried he had hyperthermia.  Once home we started the task of checking him over whilst waiting for our vet to reach his surgery.  He had a very nasty looking eye – with what seemed like a whip mark across and down his cheek, one ear was full of dried blood and as we started to work through his fur and feathers, during which, in between flinching, he licked our face and hands, with the ticks dropping onto the floor and fleas covering our arms, we realised that he only had one very bruised, enlarged testicle.  The boot marks were still visible on his hind quarters – my son even recognised the make of trainer.  He weighed 18k (he is now a healthy 43k) and we didn’t think he would make it.  Two and a half hours of surgery to recover the other testicle which had been kicked into his gut, 2 pints of blood and a week of good food and he started to recover, only to have to be rushed back into hospital where the vet removed a reel of fishing line, 3 rubber gloves, 1 gardening glove, a mass of cooked bone, twigs and pebbles and lord knows how much of his bowels. We fell hopelessly in love and for 3 weeks panicked at every phone call in case someone was claiming him.  He is now 11ish and not a day goes by when he doesn’t give us his thanks – after every meal – after every groom. And as for training, he has 43 fluent and reliable freeshaped behaviours plus another 6 in the making – he brings all or either of the remotes, knows the difference between the spectacle cases, greets us with the right pair of slippers and tells us which mobile is going off. He has recently learnt to fetch the book from the bedside table – then bring me my reading specs then take the book back and replace it – He achieved  2 merits and a distinction in his first K9 multisport test; not bad for a half blind, half deaf dog.  For all he has been through, he as never shown any form of fear at another human or dog – has tolerated the rearing of 3 pups – the homing in or all the recues, sharing food, bed and toys whilst having his ears and feathers pulled – played for hours with the grandkids, being dressed up and rolled about on the floor with.  He clearly remembers that he once was starved almost to the point of death and on that basis I think we can live with periodic raids on the fridge.  He is our very special spotty nosed boy – we are 1,200 pounds poorer – but richer beyond words