Life in Toronto: This is for Grubby

I'm really sad today as my sweet, fragile little Grubby was put to sleep today. In fact my parents have been taking care of him for most of his life, but I was the one who found him, a sad little filthy sole wandering on the streets. That was towards the end of 2004 when I still lived in Harfield Village with Trevor, his girlfriend and Squeaky. I found the dog while I was on a run. He was standing their looking confused and lost. I decided to stay with him to see if I could help. He was too scared to let me approach but he started to follow me from a distance. I had to help him so walked towards home. We approached a busy highway which he could never safely cross, so I patiently waited until he got close enough that I could pick him up. To my surprise and delight he suddenly went as still as a baby so that I could quickly carry him to safety.

I didn't know what to do with him as I knew my landlord would not want a dog so I took him to the nearby house of John the Potter. I put Grubby down and he stood around, a bit confused, and then, as if it suddenly dawned on him that he had found a home, he started jumping around and on me with glee. It was wonderful. We became friends right away.

John unfortunately could not keep the dog so I had no choice but to take Grubby to my house. He was not allowed inside so I had to leave him in the back garden. He was desperate to be with me, throwing himself into the glass door trying to get in. Sometimes I would sneak him in at night even though he was filthy and his fur was completely matted. Unfortunately, my landlord did not have the same affection for animals as I did, and I was forced to take him to the SPCA a few days later. My dear friend, Nicky, drove us there on the fateful day where I had to place his small little body in a cage and abandon him. Oh my, how it broke my heart to betray him like this.

For a month I was sleepless worrying that he would be euthanized before being adopted. My mom had worked there a couple of years prior and I knew that they had no good procedure for saying which dogs would be put to sleep and it could happen quite suddenly. I was so worried. I was told he was not very adoptable by the SPCA when I called in to check up on him.

Eventually after much tears on my side, my parents agreed to "adopt" him, with the aim of depositing him in another no-kill shelter in Port Elizabeth. My mother drove all the way to Cape Town to fetch him and take him back. Amazing mother I have. My dad, was angry and threatened to 'kill' the dog, which I knew he wouldn't as he loves animals. He just didn't want to get attached and tied down.

Before my parents had had a chance to take Grubby to the no-kill shelter, he had wormed his way into my parents' hearts and they couldn't do it. My dad and him grew particularly attached to each other and couldn't be away from each other for long. They were in fact inseparable and I know my dad loved him so much. Grubby was his dog. He would never be happy if my dad was away. He was cheeky little devil who loved to bark at Tucker and bite the hosepipe. When he was young, he would sprint like a race horse at the beach. He loved to play and go for walks. He didn't particularly like other animals, particularly those that would compete for my dad's affection. Even after years of separation from him, he was always ecstatic to see me when I came home. He was a loving dog.

Unfortunately, Grubby suddenly got ill over the last few months and it turned out he had a very weak heart and a leaky valve. He got weaker and weaker until my parents thought it would be most compassionate to let him sleep without pain. I found out the sad news at work today and was heartbroken. I love Grubby. I didn't get to say good bye. I can only imagine how hard it is for my mom and dad. My dad could not bear the pain to be with Grubby when he was euthanised so my poor mother had to hold him. It's so hard to know if you're doing the right thing. Death is so final.

I love you Grubby. You were a dear little soul.