Brandy was a springer spaniel that we adopted from the Guelph Humane Society on April 5, 1993. At first, we hadn't planned to adopt a dog quite her size; we had been thinking about getting a small dog, say, the size of a beagle. At the shelter were dozens of dogs needing homes, but no beagles. The first time we visited, we saw Brandy leaning up against the side of her cage, listlessly watching us. The other dogs were barking, jumping around, and begging for attention. Brandy just stared. We left that day, and came back a week later, with a friend who had lots of dog experience. We affectionately dubbed her "our doggie counselor". Brandy was still leaning up against that cage, staring.

Our friend, Jan, who had trained and befriended many dogs in her time, said, "You know, spaniels can be very nice dogs. Let's take her outside for a walk and see how she is." So out we went, and Brandy was so happy to get outside that she fairly bounced with glee. She had to sniff every molecule that came within range of her nose. Consultation with our doggie counselor confirmed that Brandy would be ours. We had to wait until Monday to take her home, so that Brandy could get a bath (yuk!).

After an unbearably long weekend, Monday arrived. We got to the shelter just as Brandy was being blow-dried. I stood in the doorway and looked into her bewildered face. I said, "Do you want to go for a car ride? Do you want to come home with us?". She continued to look puzzled. I repeated what I had said, and I could see the light bulb come on over her head. She instantly turned into a whirling dervish, running around in circles with joy, and bouncing all over the room. The car ride home was me being squished in the back seat with a spaniel eagerly running from one side of the car to the other, to see as much as possible out of the windows.

We took her home, survived our transformation from "dog-newbies" to capable dog guardians, and looked forward to a long, happy life together. But on January 18, 1996, I came home from work, and Brandy was not behind the front door waiting for me as usual. She was standing at the top of the stairs, wagging her tail, and wanting to come down, but was very reluctant to do so. Finally I coaxed her down; she came down slowly, as if in pain. She was the same on her walk; instead of her usual bouncy self, she was slow and lethargic. She was reluctant to eat her dinner - a completely unusual attitude. By the next morning, when I was at work, my husband called me, said she seemed fine, and asked "Do I really need to take her in?" - I insisted. I knew something was wrong; I thought that maybe she had a cold. On the way home from work, I stopped into the vet's to see what was up. The "cold" was acute lymphoblastic leukemia, and I had seen the very first symptoms. The disease had likely presented itself within the last week.

Brandy didn't act like a dog with cancer; she bounced around as normal, enjoyed her walks, responded well to the chemo, and took her naturopathic treatment without complaint. Around April 10, she seemed tired again. Saturday the 13th was a bad day. She was in pain and we knew it. Her stomach was very distended, and she was so restless. Around 11:30 that night we ended up at the vet's, doing an ultrasound. When we saw the first perfect, round tumor in her spleen, we knew it was all over. We would have to let her go. We said our goodbyes and held her while she journeyed to the Rainbow Bridge, early in the morning of April 14, 1996.

Brandy was the first dog we ever had. She was wonderful; the perfect friend and companion, and the dog who made us love springer spaniels for all their silly, playful ways. We will always love you, Brandy.

If It Should Be

If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain prevents my peaceful sleep,
Then you must do what must be done
When this last battle can't be won.

You will be sad, I understand,
Selfishness might stay your hand.
But on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship take the test.

We've had so many happy years,
That what's to come can hold no fears.
You'd not want me to suffer, So
When the time comes, please let me go.

Take me where my needs they'll tend.
Only -- stay with me until the end.
Hold me firm and speak to me,
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know, in time, you too will see
It is a kindness that you do for me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I've been saved.

Do not grieve it should be you
Who must decide this thing to do.
We've been so close, we two, these years....
Don't let your heart hold any tears.

---Anonymous

Brandy's page was given this award on May 1, 1998.

Copyright © 1996-2003. Do not reproduce or distribute without permission. This page last reviewed August 11, 2003. This page created August, 1996 by Mary Monteith, mmonteit@golden.net , Ontario, Canada.