Fourteen years, three countries, two transatlantic crossings, five homes; our beloved Bearded Collie Macduff made his final journey yesterday.
Woven in with our grief and some shock at the speed of events, Fred and I have started to remember the happy times: his first wintry gambol at six months old, sending up silvery puffs of Yorkshire snow against the moonlight...running the length of a long green field to greet his pretty German Shepherd friend, Lady...playing 'Lost in the Woods' with Fred in the oak copse at our home in Winchester, barking for joy when he found him...trotting just ahead of me, my personal trainer on those endless walks through Maryland's Annapolis Park. And here in the Alpujarras, Duffs and Lola with us on a picnic...our sunlit walks to the Castle and the woods...two bushy dog tails waving happily.
Of course it wasn't all good times. I remember how disappointed we were when Duffs was expelled from Dogwood Acres, his exclusive day school near Annapolis, for excessive barking and because he kept herding up the younger dogs. But this was just a momentary blip on Macduff's popularity clapometer. Mostly, people and dogs (except Yorkies and other small upstarts) adored him.
Over the past year or so, Duff's walkies became twice as slow and half as long. His sight and hearing had faded, and he had the spectacular bronchial cough of a retired docker. But he was still snorfling his food with gusto, liked the sun on his back in the morning, breakfast toast crusts with peanut butter and stretching out in the centre of a circle of visitor feet.
Then yesterday evening his back legs, which had been getting steadily weaker, gave up entirely, and next morning he wouldn't eat or drink. We took him to the 24/7 vet hospital in Granada; we held him and talked to him right to the end, when he sank into a peaceful sleep. Before we went, I asked for some scissors and cut a small piece of matted fur from his right ear - I never did manage to comb that last bit out and now I can keep it for ever.
Goodbye darling boy. Thank you for 14 years of love and laughter. We hope you are out right now playing 'Lost', running through endless sunlit woods with your friends. And that you have roast chicken for supper every night.
All our love....
I can only show a couple of pics on this post, but Fred has put together a beautiful photo memoir for Friends of Macduff. Do take a look, if only to marvel at the size of Duffs' paws when he was three months old! (If this link doesn't connect, just drop me a line and I will send you a new link).


