Sandy Mason

Sandy is a White Shepherd – he came to our cottage when he was just a couple of months old at Christmas in 2003. There was a note attached to his collar saying he wanted to adopt us as his parents – we had looked after him while his then owners were away on holiday, and he had become completely attached to us. Sadly, a few weeks ago our local veterinarian, while examining him to see why he had been limping badly, had found a large growth in his bicep. A biopsy was taken about ten days ago and the lump was diagnosed as being cancerous. Sandy was dropped off at our farm by the vet on the Friday evening, and for a couple of days was very weak.

He has recovered somewhat, but still has to get around on just three legs, and is obviously in much pain. Liz and I have been struggling over when the inevitable must happen, which is very sad because Sandy is more like a son to us than a dog. He has a personality, and has had a long standing disagreement with one of our male cats, Bob, over who is the stronger alpha-male. Now he has a sad look in his eyes - it’s almost as though he knows now that he will not be coming to America with us. There are times when he is quite lively, especially when he starts barking at passers-by and running as best he can on three good legs. The strain on his good legs is beginning to show, probably aggravating the arthritis in his joints.  We will make his last days as comfortable as we are able to, and will probably keep on putting off the inevitable. Sandy will be remembered after he makes the journey to the other side – maybe we’ll meet up again, I hope so.