How to say Goodbye to Brady….

I loooooove animals. I can just ooh and aah my way through facebook for hours on end looking at all the animals in the world but, there is one animal that has captured my heart from the moment I met him and has continued to do so for his whole life.

Having said the above, I am not usually one to be absolutely smitten with a puppy. I love them, enjoy cuddling them, adore their puppy smells but, can walk away and not think of them again.

Until I met Brady.

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Baby Brady Bailey-Wilkinson (8 Weeks Old)

I had gone to Willunga to meet my new boyfriends family and they were Groodle breeders. Sam (then boyfriend, now husband) asked if I wanted to go and see the puppies and I shrugged and said ok.

There they were, lots and lots of puppies, all scrambling for my attention as well as the mum and dad of said puppies. All of these white/cream dogs, wet noses pushing through the gate hoping for a scratch or pat and then I saw him.

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Brady didn’t want to stop growing (12 weeks old)

A rolly poly fat little dopey puppy, sitting all on his own, looking around as though he couldn’t work out where everyone else went. They were all of five feet in front of him but he didn’t seem to know that so just sat there looking as gorgeous as can be.

Well, that was the end of me.

Brady And Kelly (Both 6 Months Old)

I hadn’t had a dog in years and didn’t really pine for one until Brady. Oh I thought of him day and night after that first meeting. That first cuddle when Sam handed him to me when I asked if I could hold him. His big little paws seemed to wrap themselves around me neck to have a longer, more snuggly cuddle.

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Brady trying to get his fur back (and I have my natural 2 boobs!)

That was, until the day Sam bought Brady down to my city apartment and we became a couple. Brady and I. Me and Brady. We were a team and my gosh he was one handsome fellow.

Nine years later we are the best of friends but something has changed.

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Now, it isn’t me fighting the horrid cancer but my boy Brady. Unlike me, Brady doesn’t have an action plan to get rid of it. It is deep within him and now it is up to Sam and I to keep him comfortable, provide him with all of his favourite treats and give him as many cuddles as we possibly can until the day comes.

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He is on his pain medication to keep him comfortable. He sleeps a lot.

He also knows something is wrong.

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Sometimes Brady became a little too obsessed with is toys and one day, Papa Sam took all of his toys away. Brady then found a piece of sandpaper and bought it to me to ‘throw’ for him. I almost did a little wee in my pants from laughing at his serious face. 

 

Since when is he aloud to sit on Papa Sams sofa and eat a whole packet of salt and vinegar chips with him?

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When did Mama Bailey decide I can have a bone in her office while she is working?

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The tumor is in his left hip and has created a great deal of pain in his left leg that he can put no weight on it.

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This does not stop him bringing his ball to us in the hope we’ll throw it for him to chase. I have tried to explain to Brady that running after a ball on three legs on timber floor boards is going to create all kinds of havoc.

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Brady sleeps in my home office while I work through the day (geez, I must clean those windows!)

He doesn’t quite get it.

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Unhappily medicated and cold on the morning of 14/9/2017

We have carpet runners now all through the house because he simply can’t manoeuvre his three working legs on the slippery floor boards. Thankfully we have a great community that has donated carpet to us. Thank you Kirsty Binney.

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Mr Bald Bum – Where the vet took the biopsy

The time hasn’t come yet to say our goodbyes to our boy. We don’t know how many days or weeks we have left but I can assure you, each and every day our Brady is with us, it is going to be a day to bring Brady something worth wagging his tail for.

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Saying Goodbye to Leftie

How should I be feeling about losing a breast? No one can answer this for me except me. It is a really weird thing because it isn’t like I actually ‘need’ good ol’ leftie but I don’t particularly want her thrown in the bin either. Sure, she is a wee bit sick and all but she still looks pretty good albeit a few bruises from being poked and prodded. I guess she is sort of like a tonsil hey? We have them but don’t really need them. But I can tell you right now, I didn’t check my tonsils growing up to see how big they were getting! I didn’t compare my tonsils to those of my friends. Boys didn’t want to check out my tonsils either, well, that I know off anyway.

So, ol’ leftie is useless really. I am giving her to my surgeon to throw away in a pile of other unwanted boobies, to take her and the sickness in my body, away. It really shouldn’t matter should it? It isn’t like I am losing something important or necessary for my life. I even feel a bit of a whinger to be honest knowing another person in my life who is in fact without an important part of their body, their arm. Who am I to complain about losing a boob? It isn’t like I need her to drive or hug or to pick up an object. The thing is, I like her. She has been around for quite a while now and I am used to her. But, the choice isn’t mine anymore, it is where the cancer lives and is now time to go. Like a game show really, it is time to leave……..**suspense built in here** …. Leftie (and Cancer), you have been evicted from living in the body of Bailey!

Today I thought about the things I need to pack for my holiday to St Andrews Hospital. I have received a phone call from the lady at concierge known as ‘the nurse’ who has advised me there will be a phone in my room, a television and something else that I can’t remember. Probably a bed hey? I realised, once I started looking for the things I would need for this holiday and it occured to me, she didn’t tell me if I needed a bra. Obviously I don’t need a proper bra  as though only rightie will be residing in said bra but I cant be letting rightie swing about on her own. Goodness knows what kind of damage she might do! I could end up with a black eye or bruised knees simply from rightie not being nestled tight against my body. She can get a bit out of control when left to her own devises.

Well, after all these years with leftie, I don’t think there is much else I can say in this farewell piece to her. Thanks for being there? Thanks for hanging around? Cya Leftie, and take that cancer with you!