Her name was Ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee), which means a dance or a party in Gaelic. A border collie with a bit of labrador thrown in, we got her from a Matangi farm when I was in high school. She was a bundle of black and white fur, with gangly legs and chocolate brown eyes, the first dog our family ever had.
From that start, she tried her best to live up to her sheepdog pedigree, rounding up the sheep and goats down the gully of our Chartwell home. She chased posties, and vigorously pulled us kids down the street when we walked her. When she was naughty, she would give a crooked smile, knowing she had done something wrong.
Her favourite place was the beach, and she loved to run back and forth trying to round up the six of us; her flock. As she got older, she began to slow down. This year, at 15 1/2 her health had deteriorated and she was sleeping a lot in her basket. An enlarged heart was causing her breathing problems, and arthritis meant she struggled to climb stairs, sit and stand. But she loved people and would wake up and stiffly amble from her blankets by the front door to greet visitors, tail wagging.
Three weeks ago, after much agonising, we made the decision to have her put down.
In the morning, we took her out to Raglan, one of her favourite places. It was a beautiful winter day, with blue sky. Rangipu Beach, usually dotted with kite surfers, was calm and nearly deserted. We walked along the beach. She seemed perky, trotted along for a bit, sniffed a few passing dogs, and tried to wrestle a stick off me. But coming back up the sand dunes to the car, she struggled, breathing heavily, and couldn't get up on her own. We had to carry her up and lift her into the car. It was a hard decision, but we were there with her, in the back yard, when a vet and nurse came in the afternoon to have her put down.
Afterwards, we wrapped our dog in a tarpaulin, and each of us helped carry her to the car, up to Fond Farewells at Ruakura, where she was to be cremated. We said goodbye, patting her one last time. At home, we had a glass of whisky and shared Ceilidh's funny stories. It was hard. We cried and laughed, as you would at any wake. She was part of our family; we loved her and she loved us.
Saying goodbye to a loved family pet is never easy.
And making the decision about when to put an old pet down can be difficult when is the right time? "That is the hardest thing, and I have had to do that with three of my own pets," says vet Dr Chris McCaughan from The Pet Practice. "I'm a real softie. I have clients who don't want to make the decision, they almost want you to make it. If you can, in all honesty, say I would be happy if my pet passed away in its sleep, then it is the right time."
McCaughan says pets are often part of the family, and people have a strong emotional connection with them, as important to some as their own children. "I've had a Mongrel Mob guy come in here with his dog, as tough as old boots, but he was crying. Some people don't realise how they will feel until it happens."
Vets can treat the symptoms of old age, including arthritis and kidney problems, but the decision often depends on the pet's overall quality of life as well as practical considerations. Dr Keith Houston from CareVets Chartwell says the right time for the owner is usually the right time for the pet. "You may want to treat an animal, but if it costs $1000, can you afford it?"
He's a pet owner and a pet lover too his Papillion Pookie, three, scampers around the office at his feet. A vet for more than 30 years, Houston says making the decision to put down a pet can be very stressful and difficult for some owners. "There can be a lot of guilt, and insecurity people are unsure if it is the right time," says Houston. "There is also embarrassment, `does the vet think I have left it too long or am I doing this too early?'."
Although vets can guide owners with information, the decision is ultimately up to the owners. "They ask, `what would you do if it was your pet?' But I can't tell them," says Houston. "I don't pay the bills. It is about your relationship with your pet." The key thing to consider is the quality of life of the animal and their dignity.
"A dog can still live a nice life sleeping and lying in their bed, going out for a slash, like an old man in his slippers," says Houston. "However, if a dog is limping, has lost mobility and there is a change of behaviour aggressive when you touch them these are all signs."
The most common serious medical issue with old cats is kidney failure. In old dogs, it is cardiac arrest and kidney failure. He says vets and others can't judge why one person puts down a healthy animal while another will spend thousands of dollars on an ailing old pet. "You never know what is going on in other people's lives," says Houston. "An old man came in and wanted to put down a healthy cat. What we didn't know was his wife had recently died, he couldn't look after himself let alone a cat, and was going into a home, and his kids were overseas. He didn't want anyone else to look after his pet. Although there was nothing wrong with the cat, the bond between them was so strong, he couldn't imagine anyone else looking after his pet."
Another pet owner came in with a dog, sick with lymphoma. It was almost at stage four cancer, with fluid in the lungs, but the woman spent $3500 on chemotherapy for it. "We did it, and the dog improved, living for another six weeks," says Houston. Some may say it was a waste of money on a dying pet. "We found out later, she had a child with cancer (who recovered) and had wanted to treat the dog with the same respect she had her child. It was her own value system, not anyone else's."
McCaughan says in very few cases he has seen people leave it too long and has had to speak firmly with them. "If they leave their pet like that, I am reporting them to the SPCA. It is a suffering issue, and an animal welfare issue."
Houston agrees some people do leave it too late. "These are obsessional owners. The bond is so strong but the animal is still around for their benefit. They are not being selfish, but the bond is so strong they don't want to let go. You want to do what is best for the pet."
Most people who choose to put down a pet have been through a long thought process, most vets say. Usually, owners have questioned themselves long and hard and talked it over extensively with family and friends. Putting down a pet is a relatively quick and painless process. "It is as peaceful as we can make it," says McCaughan. "A high dose of barbiturates are given intravenously," says Houston. "It stops the brain and heart straight away, and anaesthetises the brain." The body dies shortly after. In the vet industry, it is known as "the blue juice" because of the colour.
Most pet euthanasias 80 to 90 per cent are done in a clinic, although most vets will do it at home, and accommodate owners where possible. It is best to book and ask questions in advance.
"We talk to people beforehand, because it can be so upsetting at the time," says Houston.
Things to consider include whether to have it done at home or at the clinic. Both options have pros and cons. Home is a pet's familiar and comfortable environment, and if a pet will be stressed by getting into a car and going to a new place, the home may be the better option. On the other hand, pets are more likely to play up at home, because it is their turf, and can be more aggressive than normal, or escape and hide.
In a clinic, an unfamiliar environment, they are more likely to be passive and more easily managed if there are difficulties. Pet owners can also request a sedative to help calm the pet, which is an extra cost. Usually, it is not required, and a pet will go to sleep gently and easily with the injection of barbiturates. A sedative is often given to aggressive or agitated animals or those that don't like to be held.
If things don't go smoothly at home, it can be uncomfortable and upsetting for the owner and vet, especially if the owner doesn't know what to expect. "Sometimes a pet will vocalise, go ooorrrooooo," says Houston, howling and tailing off. "There can be reflexes and gasping and if people don't know, they think their pet is still alive. But it is just a reflex. We all have our preconceived idea of death and how it should go." Vocalisation happens in about one in every 20 to 30 dogs. Other aspects that may be hard to deal with for owners include excrement and urine leaking as muscles relax after death, and body stiffening can happen within 30 to 60 minutes.
The cost of putting a pet down depends on its size, but can range from $60 for a small animal to more than $100 for a large one, with the cost of sedatives, burial or cremation extra.
Afterwards, owners need to consider whether the pet will be taken home to be buried, left at the clinic (to send off for cremation or burial), or taken directly to the pet crematorium, Fond Farewells (soon to be known as Pet Farewells) at Ruakura. There is also the option of a pet cemetery. There is not one in the Waikato, but there is in Albany, Auckland. However, VetCare Chartwell estimates more than 40 per cent of their clients send pets off for cremation, to be sprinkled later at a special spot.
For those wanting to say goodbye more formally, there are celebrants who do pet funerals. There are even headstones for pets. A Gisborne company, Gisborne Monumental Masons, will make custom headstones for pets, including a silhouette of a pet's head, with their name carved in. They have done it for dogs, cats and horses.
Dennis Neill has been managing pet cremations at Fond Farewells for more than 15 years and is passionate about the service they offer. "It's the best," he says.
He takes care of each pet that comes in, talking to pet owners in the mourning room. "You cope with it by doing a good job," says Neill. "People put a whole lot of trust in you, leaving their family members with you."
There are options for the ashes, including pottery urns and beautiful wooden boxes, some with a picture frame. Owner Lyn Shepherd engraves pets' names on the boxes, and there are also tidy cardboard box options for those who want to scatter the ashes.
Care is taken at every stage. Pets are separated in the cremator by bricks. "In the 15 years I've been doing this, I've never mixed up the ashes," says Neill. He knows every pet and who has brought it in, as he tenderly picks up a few brown paper bags filled with ashes, talking about each one by name. The paper bags go in the caskets, scattered with dried roses.
Most are cats and dogs, with 95 per cent coming from vet clinics although some people bring in their pets directly to Fond Farewells. "We've had all sorts though ferrets, rats, fish, goldfish," says Neill. "I've done donkeys, birds, sheep, horses and goats." The oldest dogs he has seen are up to 25 years old (smaller dogs) and golden retrievers of 17 and 19, very old for that breed. Most dogs come in between 10 and 13 years old.
Pets and pet owners come from all over the central North Island. There are two pet cremators in Auckland, small ones in Taranaki and Tauranga, and a large one in Palmerston North. "I've had people drive here from Waiouru,'' says Neill. "A man drove from Opunake with a 17-year-old golden retriever and brought the dog's brother and sister back a few years later. An older couple from Gisborne brought their dog over by car. It was their final journey with her.''
Pet cremation is becoming increasingly popular. ``There is a huge niche for it, and people are coming to us more and more,'' says Neill. As people move home more often in their lifetimes or are living in townhouses with no backyard, cremation is a better option than burial. "People take the ashes and keep them, or scatter them at favourite spots,'' says Neill. Fifteen years ago when the business started, there were 24 private pet cremations in the first year. Now there are 20 to 30 a week.
Neill used to be a post-mortem technician working at Ruakura's veterinary diagnostic laboratory. The cremators were used by the labs and Agriculture and Fisheries Ministry (Maf) but when work dropped off, a commercial pet cremation venture was started. "When we first started, I used to come out with a wheelbarrow, and people would open their boot. It's come a long way. There is a mourning room now.''
The loss of his own pets has been hard, and usually, he has a colleague cremate them. A month on the job, his cat Moggie died, and he tried to do it himself. "I thought I'd be tough, and bring her in but I was a blubbering mess,`` says Neill. "It made me realise how important it was, that I treat each pet with dignity.'' Neill puts a ceramic heart or star or shape with each pet, to ensure there are no mix-ups.
The site has two cremators, which are used daily, and reach temperatures of 1100C. After the cremator cools down, most mornings he climbs into the large brick oven, in gumboots and protective gear, and gathers up the bone fragments and ash of each pet. Most of the ash is bone ash, which is further ground down to a fine powder by an onsite electric cremulator. It is one they brought from Newstead, previously used for people. The cost for cremation varies, depending on the size of the pet and the choice of container. A small animal, under 15kg, in a cardboard box, is $50, but a large pet up to 50kg, in a wooden casket, is $240. There is macrocarpa, rimu and kauri. People can cremate their pets with flowers or things they love, such as a toy.
Neill says the loss of a pet can be very upsetting, and he and Shepherd will sometimes spend more than an hour talking to owners. On Tuesday a family with two young daughters brought in their beloved dog at 4.30 pm and stayed until 6 pm. It is valuable to take the time needed to say goodbye.
He says it is important to be honest with people, and honest with children about putting a pet down. "The worst thing you can do to kids is put the pet down while they are at school because you don't want to upset them. Kids need to know what is going on, and have the chance to say goodbye.'' He says pets are part of the family, and can also be mourned for the memories and time in someone's life they represent. "The pet can be the last link between a person and someone else,'' says Neill. "Perhaps it is a pet inherited from deceased parents, or a couple breaks up but share the pet. The death of the pet is the death of the relationship, and all that other emotion bubbles up.''
Many of the animals cremated are much loved. However, Fond Farewells is also kept busy with cats and dogs from the council and pounds, with lots of abandoned or stray pets put down every week. They are cremated en masse, and their remains taken to landfill.
Owners of pets who don't want ashes back can also choose to have them scattered at the rose garden at Fond Farewells. In a little garden beside the office, the ashes of a dog called Brandy are scattered by a brandy rose bush. Old dog tags are pinned to a rhododendron tree, including Skye, Biddy, Squeaky and Sasha. "The garden is not flash,'' says Neill. "But in spring, when the roses bloom, it is quite pretty.''
Jean Wilson lost her Tibetan terrier Muffin last Saturday. A cute bundle of black and brown, with fur covering her eyes, Muffin, at 151/2, was Wilson's closest companion after husband Geoff died 14 years ago. "She was my last link with Geoff,'' says Wilson tearfully on Wednesday. The anniversary of Geoff's death was last Sunday, the day after Muffin was put down. Wilson has been upset, and a walk past the dog food aisle at the supermarket yesterday had her in tears again. "I can't tell you how lonely I am. It's hard if you really love them, and I did really love her.''
Wilson is a real animal lover. There are cat placemats on the kitchen table. Owl ornaments collected by Geoff fill shelves, and a budgie sits in the corner. It was very hard to decide to have Muffin put down even though she wasn't eating her food, was throwing up, and was almost blind. "I thought, I can't let this little dog starve to death,'' says Wilson, who asked her vet Keith Houston, to come to her home.
Between the tears, there are a lot of laughs and funny memories of a cheeky dog who liked to escape off down the street. ``She had a great sense of humour and was a real mischief,'' says Wilson. "There was one time she went galloping down the street with my bra wrapped around her head. We've had some hilarious to-dos with our animals.'' Wilson says the bond between pets and humans is not to be underestimated. "They give you unconditional love. You can be growly with them one minute, then they are rubbing around your legs the next. If you try to tell this to a non-animal person, they think you are barmy.''
With two English sheepdogs and several cats already passed away, she jokes Geoff will be busy in heaven taking care of all their old pets. The budgie is the focus of attention, being fed up on honey seed bells now she doesn't have Muffin to spoil. On Wednesday, she was off to the vet clinic to pick up Muffin's ashes. ``I haven't decided what I will do with her yet.'' Another dog is a way off. "I might give it some thought, but Muffin is too hard to get over at the moment.'' Experts say it is not silly to feel grief about a dog or cat.
"There are a lot of memories in 151/2 years,'' says Houston. "Pets are the agents of solidifying memories in relationships. Grief is a normal thing and it is a true feeling that people go through with pets.'' McCaughan agrees, and he has been through it with his own pets. "You've got to grieve, and some do for years. I think most (pet owners) do to a greater or lesser degree. It would be abnormal if you didn't grieve.''
He sometimes cries when regular clients bring in their own pets. "I feel sorry for the pet and the pet owner, and I've often known them over many years.''
Hamilton celebrant Kerril Cooper usually does weddings, funerals and baby naming ceremonies, but has also found herself assisting grieving pet owners with pet funerals. "I have done a couple,'' she admits. "But I have found most people are a bit shy about looking for a professional. There is sometimes an attitude of, `just get over it, it's just a dog'. But it's valid to feel grief for a pet.''
Cooper says the death of a family pet is often a child's first experience and exposure to grief. "How we deal with death as a child is how we cope with grief as an adult.'' She says a ritual such as a funeral helps to express grief, and teach about the preciousness of life.
She did a short ceremony for a friend whose dog had recently died. "A few days later, when my friend was able to, we lit a candle, had rosemary for remembrance and basically just said goodbye,'' says Cooper. ``There are no rules. It can be as simple as finding a shoebox, decorating it, and putting in some favourite toys, reading a psalm or poem, or lighting a candle. It is whatever works for you and your family.''
It's been about a month now, and whenever I go to my parents' house there is an empty spot by the door. Something is missing. Ceilidh's photo and a cardboard box of ashes are in the foyer, waiting to be scattered. One day all six of us will take a walk on the beach again, with our dog. We will scatter her at Whangamata, into the wind, where she used to run.