Fully Staffed

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Fully Staffed - book excerpt

Prologue

It was very still and quiet in the tiny, airless room. The only sound breaking the silence was the rhythmic sound of the rain tapping down on the skylight window. It was a damp, chilly day - more like autumn than summer, but somehow, the weather reflected our demeanour that heart rending August day back in 1995. The 31st at nine thirty in the morning, to be precise - a day I will never forget.

If this was the right thing to do why did it feel so wrong? Why was it so painful? We had all done a lot of soul searching, and shed many, many tears over this devastating decision that could no longer be put off. We really had come to the end of the line; completely out of options, we simply didn't have a choice, but why, oh why did it have to end this way? In this unfamiliar, odd smelling room – it just wasn't right.

I lay beside him on the cold, red tiled floor, carefully lifted his head and wrapped both my arms around him; no one could hear my heart breaking.

It didn't take long…

Soon, his chest stopped rising, and I knew he had gone; slipped away to a better place; a place where once again, he would be a carefree puppy, with a fully loaded waggy tail, and no aches or pains. I just knew he would be reunited with my Mum & Dad, who would be waiting with open arms, ready to take him for the grand tour of his magnificent, new home. Alas, for those of us left behind, there was only pain, sorrow and an overwhelming feeling of sadness…

OUR GOLDEN BOY

Spike the Golden Labrador first came into our lives during the summer of 1980 and became an official member of our family in September.

At the time, we were living in Elgin, Scotland, as my husband Steve (being in the Royal Air Force) was posted to Lossimouth. Alan, a good friend of ours had a beautiful Labrador called Brandy, and she was expecting puppies! Although not planned, they were very welcome. Late July, Brandy produced five, gorgeous golden pups – they were absolutely beautiful! Ben, the sire, was also a Golden Labrador, so the puppies were off the scale in the cuteness department, we fell in love with them all! We went to visit them several times- sometimes, there would be one less as they found new homes.

Terry and Christopher (my sons) were totally smitten with these babies, and so desperate to have one, they weren't going to take 'no' for an answer. So, we harassed, bothered and stalked Steve every chance we got! Although Steve loved animals, he wasn't too keen on owning one, because of the life we led in the Air Force, however, with no prospects of an overseas posting on the horizon, I thought some pestering of the 'gentle persuasion type' might change his mind.

When there were only two left, we took the 'gentle' pestering to a different level! I even taught them the song 'Daddy wouldn't buy me a bow wow' and 'How much is that doggy in the window?' I hate to admit it, but I was almost as eager as the boys to have a pup, so, I played the 'Birthday Card' – as in Terry's 5th, which was only a few weeks away. Morning, noon and night he endured our 'singing' (for want of a better word!) till eventually, fearing for his sanity, he agreed!

Seemed like Daddy would be buying a 'bow wow' after all!

Unfortunately, by the time we told Alan of our decision, the two remaining pups had been diagnosed with Parvovirus, a very serious, viral disease.

The type Spike had was CVP2, which is highly infectious and potentially lethal if not diagnosed and treated quickly. Two of the pups that had been re-homed had already died, so the outlook was rather bleak. The pups were admitted into the vets for treatment, but the prognosis wasn't good, so we waited and prayed for a miracle.

They had been given nicknames by this time, Spit and Spike. Spit was the one that had been earmarked for us, and although the boys thought his name was cool, I couldn't wait to change it. Sadly, Spit died after a few days in the vets, and we were told to expect the worse for Spike. I couldn't tell the boys, I just kept praying for the miracle. Eventually, it came…

The vet called Spike his 'lucky pup' as he was on the brink of death, but somehow, with the medication, love and prayers, he managed to pull through. Luckily, there would be no need for any further medication and his prospects were looking good! I gratefully thanked St. Francis for answering my prayers.

As it was almost Terry's birthday, we thought it would be nice to wait and get him on the day. The boys were ecstatic! He was the most beautiful puppy I'd ever seen. He was very light in colour, much lighter than both his parents, he was almost cream. However, his velvety, soft ears were much darker, and had quite a pink nose too, so overall, he wasn't your 'bog-standard' looking Labrador. He was, quite simply, beautiful, and we couldn't wait to bring him home. When he arrived, he didn't take long to find his paws! He was in to everything – nothing was sacred, and no matter how we tried to teach the boys to remove precious items out of his reach, inevitably, they'd forget, and the dog would obliterate another toy!

He chewed anything and everything, but what was quite comical (although NOT at the time!) was the way he would chew one slipper belonging to Terry, and one slipper of Christopher's. Not content to have just one pair! Even their shoes weren't safe, it cost us a small fortune to keep replacing them!

He was also partial to their socks, and they too would disappear, like the shoes, one from each pair, however, for some reason, he tended to hide these in his bed. Like all puppies, his teeth were like razors, and the boys soon learned not to put their hands too close to his mouth! He gave them both a few good nips whilst they were playing, but, he never drew blood!

He followed me everywhere, which disappointed the boys, but I told them, if they fed him, and looked after him, maybe he'd follow them too – they weren't keen on that idea! Full of mischief, he fitted in well with Terry and Christopher; I really had my hands full! As the days passed, he became bigger and stronger, until he was bigger than his mum, who we saw when we visited Alan, or vice versa. He developed little traits, which both amused and frustrated us, but there was no way you could be mad at him.

He was very special, and always kept us entertained with his antics. He was never vicious or nasty, and he loved being with the boys. The only negative thing I can say about him, is that he was hard work to house train, so for a few months, my house smelled like a hospital, but we didn't' mind – we loved him - puddles and all!

He became quite well known around our estate, and unfortunately, it wasn't for his charm and charisma, it was due to the amount of times he managed to escape! He was like lightening! If you forgot to shut him in before answering the door, he'd sprint out between your legs! We all but put an electrified fence around the garden, but he still found a way out. Maybe we should have called him Houdini. Sometimes, I wouldn't even realise he'd gone, until there was a knock at the door.

On more than one occasion there was a phone call informing us that 'yer dag's on Lossie Road eatin' his way through the bins!' I was mortified, thinking people would think we weren't feeding him properly. I would go out and follow the trail of torn bin bags and scattered rubbish, and sure enough, he would be somewhere along the route! I spent a lot of time clearing up other peoples' rubbish thanks to Mr. Spike!

We soon established a routine, and very slowly, he became much better. He was very quick to learn, but he still insisted on peeing on the kitchen floor! I used to take him with me when I walked Terry to school, and when I collected him. It was so lovely to see Terry's face light up when he spotted Spike at the school gates.

There was one little incident that could have ended catastrophically but thankfully, it didn't. You know those times when things happen, and the very last thing you should do is laugh, but somehow, you just can't help yourself? The more you try not to, the harder it becomes. Well, it was a bit like that – hysteria almost took over in more ways than one! Only when the episode had ended, and I was relating the event to Steve, did I allow myself to laugh without feeling guilty.

One morning, just before Christmas, we were on our way to school, Terry was adamant that he wanted to hold Spike's lead. I tried to tell him that Spike was very strong, but you know what 5-year olds are like – they always know best! The school was just a ten-minute walk away, just over the main road, so I said Terry could hold him for a few minutes, just until we got near to the road, but he must hold the lead very tight and not let go. No sooner had the child taken hold of the lead, when Spike must have spotted something in the distance.

He took off at a great rate of knots, and Terry went with him. It had snowed the day before, and had dropped way below freezing during the night, so it was very, very slippery under-foot. Within seconds, Terry was flat out on his tummy sliding along behind Spike and holding onto the lead for all he was worth!

The road we were on sloped down to the main road at the bottom, so he slid quite easily. I ran after them shouting and screaming for Terry to let go, but no way was he releasing that lead, he went sailing down the road, holding on for dear life. It was quite difficult for me to run with a three- year- old Christopher in tow, but I did my best, I put him in his pushchair and belted down the road. The closer they got to the main road, the louder I shouted, but he refused to let go of that lead! He looked so funny, he went sliding past other kids, and even though I knew there was a busy road at the bottom, I couldn't stop smiling! What a terrible mother I must be!

Lord of all he surveys!

Only a few seconds stood between Terry and the main road. Thankfully, the Lollypop lady saw what was happening, and came to the rescue. She sprinted towards Terry, grabbed hold of him, and ambushed Spike with her lollypop stick, thus putting a swift, safe end to Spike's bid for freedom! Putting my arms around Terry, I expected him to be traumatised, but not at all. He was very, very proud of himself, because he hadn't let go of the lead! Spike seemed to be very pleased with himself too, but when I gave him 'the death stare' his ears went down, and his tail went between his legs; he knew he was in trouble. I didn't know whether to kill him there on the spot or take him home and do it in comfort!

I went into Terry's teacher and related the unfortunate incident. Then, boys in one hand – dog in the other, I made my way back home to change Terry and warm him up. Spike trotted along without a care in the world, tail wagging, and happy as you like, having completely forgotten about the mayhem he'd just caused a few moments ago.