Peter Reynolds

It’s no longer me and my three dogs. It’s Peter Reynolds and his two dogs now. We lost Cwtch yesterday, our five-year old border collie. He had a series of seizures last week from which he never recovered.

For the last four days he has laid on the sofa unable to stand or eat. I’ve been feeding him water fortified with Dioralyte through a syringe but he’s been completely unresponsive. I’ve managed to wash his tablets down his throat and the seizures had stopped but in truth I think he was already gone and in a coma. His breathing was very laboured.

Since those final few seizures on Thursday I’m not sure that he could even see or hear anymore. Initially he did seem to respond to touch but that seemed to fade as well. Yesterday I decided to take him with us in the back of the car while we drove to Carmarthen to get some more Dioralyte. I am so glad I did. He seemed to be breathing more easily, lying there in the place he has spent so many hours with his big brother and sister, Kearney and Cariad. But soon I couldn’t hear his breathing anymore. I stopped the car and he had died, peacefully.

He leaves a huge void in our lives. The four of us have spent every minute together since May 2021 when he first made his home with us as a tiny puppy. I am very upset and as I remember from previous losses, the grief comes in waves of emotion, unpredictable but inevitable. Cariad and Kearney are confused. They’re both more affectionate than usual. I’ve allowed them time with Cwtch’s body and tried to reassure them as much as I can. I’m in fear as to when I will lose them. I will be older. I hope still able to cope with the grief.

Cwtch was my adorable, sweet, baby boy. I’ve never had a dog more devoted to me. He followed me everywhere. I couldn’t go upstairs without him being immediately behind me and back down again. He was a pain in the arse sometimes but be was our pain in the arse and I miss him enormously. There is a draft behind my ankles in the space where he always used to be. A friend who knew him all his life said to me he was a pain but “there wasn’t a nasty bone in his body”. He just wanted to love and be loved. I shall always remember when returning to my parked car where the three of them were left in the back, there would be his little head and his eyes fixed on me. The other two might be lying down asleep but he was always watching and waiting for me.

Just the last few days it’s been difficult walking without him as we left him at home on the sofa. Now we have to face all those walks without him. Everywhere we go is full of memories of him.

Cwtch was born on the 4th May 2021 in Knocknagoshel, County Kerry, Ireland, just a few miles from where we lived. He came from a long line of working collies, not with sheep but with cattle. I chose him from three puppies in a pen. His instincts were extraordinary. His recall was amazing. Throughout his life I never had to worry about him disappearing or not coming back. He was there, at my heel, even before I thought to call him.

We buried him this morning at the end of the garden. Soon he will have his own headstone and it will stand alongside those of his forebears, Capone and Carla which I brought from Ireland with us. Cwtch never knew them, although in some way I think he did. We are all on that never ending walkies, all my dogs, wrapped in love, togetherness and we always will be.

To contradict myself, he is not gone. Cwtch will remain with us on every walk, up every hill, through rain, wind and sunshine, his spirit lives with us. His energy continues.