Ben Hopkins

I AM BEN and I AM DOG (3.8.2019)

Written by Ben who had big paws, and a big heart.

“I am Ben and I am a Labrador. I was 14 1/2yrs old when I passed. Today is my Mum’s birthday. She is 61. It is also 3 days since my family had to have me put to sleep.

There was no great drama. I died as I lived, peacefully and with great spirit.

When Mum was 46, she and my Dad Nigel (who was 39) adopted two puppies. Me and Barney. She remembers saying that it was a massive thing to do, deciding to share the next fifteen year with us two fluffy attention-demanding greedy scraps. However, we grew into two amazing and gorgeous dogs. We were their constant companions. Loving, loyal, sometimes naughty and exasperating, but always loved and adored.

It has been a really tough week. I simply decided at 10pm on Monday night that I could not do another walk. Mum lay on the floor with me and asked me if I had had enough, if it was time.

My reply was an earnest look, a nudge of my nose and a gentle lick

At the vets on Wednesday morning, I slipped away, my breathing slowing gently and then I was gone.

Mum has shared her life with many dogs. All of them have been amazing. But there was something about my spirit. Right from the first moment that I barged my way past my litter mates and demanded her attention. I was an anchor for them all. An accomplished escape artist, big enough to reach anything inadvertently left on a kitchen worktop, I recently developed the ability to nudge the fridge door open and help myself.

My brother Barney and Mum are sad. Bereft. She feels totally adrift. There are so many happy and funny memories, but her sadness is totally overwhelming her.

Early this morning she took Barney on a walk around the block. Even walking one dog instead of two is strange. Her grief is a physical thing. Her footsteps are leaden. Her chest feels hollow and tight. Her shoulders hurt. Everything feels heavy. She keeps reminding herself that I was a happy dog. Telling herself that it is just her thoughts. But still the tears come.

Then, just now, in the shower she realised it’s ok to feel sad. It’s ok to feel such a huge sense of loss. The loss of my physical presence does not mean that I am not still with her. My spirit is all around. Her memories, the pictures, our conversations, my brother, still with them, all serve to remind her that everything is ok. Remind her of the love I brought into their lives. That love is still with them and it is everything.

Death is just part of our existence in the moment. Whether it is a beloved dog or a human. It’s part of a cycle. Everything is as it should be.

Last night, Mum and Dad went for a walk at a slightly wild beach near where they live, a place that I loved. As they pulled up in the car, a huge black Labrador with a red collar ran across in front of them. Their hearts skipped a beat. Just for a moment, Mum couldn’t breathe. It looked like me about 10 years ago.

It was of course another dog but his likeness was uncanny. It was another reminder. A little message from me, their lovely boy”.

RIP Ben