Clem and Brandy
"Four years ago my wife died. After relatives and friends had left the emptiness was devastating and would have been unbearable were it not for the company of my little dog, Brandy. We were inseparable: the love and affection of that dog kept me going. Two years later I had circulation problems and went into hospital for what I thought would be a fortnight, but in the event was three months. Following two major operations, including an above-the-knee amputation I returned to my home, three-up and three-down, and was confined to the ground floor.
"During my hospitalisation Brandy was cared for by the veterinary surgeon who kept me informed of his well-being, and for this I am forever grateful. For a few days on my return home I was on my own, learning how to cope. The loneliness and silence was awful and depression was setting in. However, the sun shone again when Brandy and I were reunited.
"My mode of locomotion was now a wheelchair. I gave thought to sheltered housing, but was told 'Pets are banned.' Man's inhumanity to man!I would no more desert my loyal pal than Brandy would desert me.
[Clem would not be parted from Brandy and he stayed on his house – too large and inconvenient for his needs.]
"Sadly, 12 months' later that old common arbiter, time, took Brandy away. My house seemed empty, nothing moved, no pattering feet or wagging tail. No one to talk to, no one to share my daily life, no greeting in the morning, no nosing me to go out, no reason for me to get out of bed. What was the use of life, at the age of 80 years on my own?
"In October 1989 I was persuaded to have another dog and my vet introduced me to Gypsy – a Fleetwood Terrier; she is now well into my affections and I into hers. This is demonstrated day in, day out. I can say with all truth that Gypsy and I have been out together every day. Regrettable I have been smitten with sciatica, but Gypsy willhave her outing. Gypsy is everyone's friend and whenever we go out together we always find someone to talk to and come home refreshed from human contact – and doggy contact too.
"It sees to me almost inhuman to condemn those who, by reason of age or infirmity need sheltered housing, to have to leave their pets behind or soldier on elsewhere.
The term 'sheltered housing' suggests a caring society that wants to maintain the quality of life for residents – but does it? Shut your door and you are left with your thoughts; sometimes they are black thoughts.
"What we need is the acceptance that pets can enhance the lives of people. Pets bring love into four walls, engender a sense of responsibility, help to meet emotional needs, give purpose to life, can open the door to sunshine, to physical well-being and outside friendships. Pets are always a talking point and much better than talking about our ailments – always assuming anyone is interested in our ailments. You can always talk to your dog and he or she will not only hear but listen and respond. In talking to and caring for a pet we forget about ourselves. Our lives are enriched and I should know. When I say to Gypsy 'You are my dog' her expression indicates she is saying 'You are my friend' or 'You are my dad'. I'm not sure which! I'll settle for either.
"Those in sheltered housing need something to do and those responsible should say "Go on, get your pet!"
"Remember – 'Absence of occupation is not rest, a mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.'"