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Reflections of a Dedicated and Loyal Furry Friend

Greetings from an autumnal Cobh.

I, for one, have always admired strong, working, obedient dogs. Do you too possibly relate very well to the ubiquitous domesticated canine? Look around in your neighbourhood or town. How often do you observe the noisy Jack Russell or that roaming fence clearing fox terrier? Or the belligerent and alert German Shepherd working with his police handler? The under-rated but highly intelligent border Collie herding his sheep? And a good gun dog like a retriever having a swim?

But these are just to name a few. As I so love all types of doggy breeds and enjoy them flourishing in a dynamic team. Their colourful footprints have been on my mind since I was a child in Africa.

But on St Patrick's Day, 17 March 2015, I landed up at the Irish Guide Dog for the Blind Training Centre to spend 3 weeks on training. This would be my second visit to Model Farm Road as I had a Guide Dog before.

I would soon legally own my second Irish Guide Dog for the Blind, Remy a cross 'German Shepherd and Retriever'. I had previously tried out Remy and he and I were a big hit. (Remy Martin is a well-known French cognac and hence, the new name!). He was pitch black, alert, bouncy and very eager to go. In fact, just go anywhere if he was meeting people and showing off his brilliant personality.

I live in a gorgeous seaside town 22 kilometres southeast of Cork City. I can reach my village of 9,000 people by train and bus. It’s so well-designed that it suits me down to the ground, provided that I do have one good or superbly trained guide dog. To date, I have had two from the IGDB. All jokes aside this rugged duo kept me in good stead and the routes so suit my canine guides. Remy was challenged both technically and by people around him. I could go anywhere in Cobh and the walk is so beautiful and it overlooks our natural harbour. But with Remy, not only could I walk the town, but I could enjoy a great sea swim as he so loved water!

When I worked in sales at an IT security company, Remy soon won the hearts of all my colleagues. He would be surrounded by young men and women rubbing him and enjoying his company. Sure, he was very responsive, and sometimes his exuberance spilled over into a raucous bark. This would have his happy crowd giggling like schoolchildren. I doubt if there was one soul in the 380 staff who did not like Remy. Each day so many would ask me to allow them to take him for a good walk. I used to say to my colleagues that Remy works for Pope Francis II as he has to love everyone he meets. Honestly, he was so well-socialised and knew he was a big catalyst in me meeting so many new friends.

Most weeks no matter how good or bad the weather we would walk about 5 times 105 minutes. Some weeks we would do over 40 kilometres and this kept us both very fit and agile. The more we worked the more Remy bonded with me.

Later as he aged and faced retirement as a guide dog, I would walk with 2 great friends; Richard Johnston and Les Harrison and would you believe it they too served in the BSA Police. We have walked each Tuesday morning for the past 36 months. We would often go to rough and wild beaches or a quiet walk on Fota Island in the game sanctuary. I could so often let him off his lead as his recall is impeccable.

So, what made Remy so different? Firstly, he was big, and I mean really big! Coming in at 56 kilograms and a whopping 8 stone 6 pounds. He was never sick, and he never quit or gave up on a big challenge. Only once did he get a splinter in his back left pad from some building rubble. Remy never missed a day’s work.

But as you know large breeds, or a big dog weighing in at over 50 kilograms always have a disadvantage. Dog people will tell you they do not have longevity in their genes. I was hoping to prove them wrong as Remy turned 11 years old this May. He was always nonchalant, or casual as a Russian Bear and honestly, just as strong. In 2019, he jumped out of my bedroom window 7.5 metres above the ground to go play with two labradors! It was amazing that he did not hurt himself. But then, he mischievously did it all over again as his two labrador neighbours returned. Remy could easily open any door with a lever and my bedroom balcony door was one like that and he did his high dive onto the grass below. Fortunately, no damage to his sturdy skeletal frame. (Must be his canine 'mongrel' make up as he was one of a kind and extraordinary!)

But alas, on a Friday in August things took a calamitous turn.

Remy had his mid-day lunch, and he had his favourite chicken with his pellets. Then, that evening he got sick. In fact, he never stopped vomiting all Friday night. But thank heavens he was drinking loads of water. I thought he had a bug, so I slowed things down and kept a caring eye over him.

When Sandy my Irish sweetheart came in from work I told her that we had some trouble. She purposefully looked into his eyes and said “He looks very bad”. Strange how intuitive a lady who so loves her dogs knows exactly what is going on?

I was sure he was very sick, but I kept trying to flush it all out of my probing brain. I was in no medical mood to go down that excruciating route as I knew the result is hell on earth! So, I quickly changed the subject.

However, on Saturday night during the early hours he took a bad turn. Again, his nagging nausea roughed him up and he did not want to eat. Not even his favourite treats. A dog will not eat due to serious nausea or an abdominal obstruction. So, a big dog can last 4 or 5 days without food, but he has to drink water. Water is a must. I knew Remy did not have an obstruction as he had earlier jumped onto my bed.

At the veterinary clinic on Sunday morning the truth hit me. A rapid blood test revealed the whole story. I would not be taking Remy home again to Cobh and my mind was in a flat spin. Strange how one's biggest fear seems to come to the fore or my personal premonition was about to become a dreadful nightmare!

A sonar scan revealed he had heavy bleeding in his abdominal cavity. More than likely coming from his spleen. The vet, Grace O’Sullivan, aspirated his abdominal cavity and the tell-tale fluid was indeed blood. So, Remy had a series of 'x-rays' to locate any cancerous tumours. His lungs were clear, but he was not out of the woods.

After another talk and forms to be signed there was precious little Sandy and I could do and the Vet suggested we must leave him with her and head off home. Grace would stabilise him and make him comfortable. Grace promised she would phone us in the late afternoon. Imagine, after 9 years going home to no Remy? Almost surreal?

Suddenly my phone broke the silence. The time and the late hour alerted our minds to a serious call. Grace phoned us at 11.45pm and said he had taken a turn for the worse. He had a discharge from his nose, and he was very agitated. This was proof that his vital stats had changed.

After a quick team talk between Sandy and I we decided that was it. No need to allow our big Remy to suffer or go downhill with zero prognosis. Sandy phoned Grace and Remy left us for good at 11.57pm on Sunday night.

Can you believe he worked with me for 9 years without any breaks?

The only salary he wanted was praise!

I assure you, his conduct was way above reproach!

Guide Dog owner Garth Long

Rest easy over the rainbow bridge Remy from everyone at Irish Guide Dogs for the Blind