In my very first blog post on this platform I mentioned Pass and Rex, the compound dogs where I live. Their job is as guard dogs, so they are kept in their kennel for a good bit of the day so that they are only dozing at night, ready to start barking at huge volume if anything unexpected happens locally. Notwithstanding this, I quite unashamedly treat them like pets, from my point of view, best case scenario – I’m not responsible for looking after them but play with them first thing in the morning and in the early evening. They are always pleased to see me which is lovely, even if the expression of their pleasure at times can get a bit much.
I arrived back in Uganda yesterday, all travelling very smooth, and arrived at the Fourplex (as the group of 4 houses in which I live is called) at about 9am. To be told that Rex, the younger dog, had died. Oh no, says I, at first assuming that this had happened at some point in the middle of my time away. But no, he had only just died, his body is over there awaiting collection. I went to pay my respects to find – he’s not dead. His breathing maybe slow and laboured, but his chest is quite clearly going up and down. He may be too ill to stop ants crawling over his mouth, but his eyes are twitching.
We’ve got to get a vet, says I. If he is dying then he may well be in pain, the vet can give him something to ease his passing. But if he’s not dying then we’ve got to help him! A couple of hours later the vet arrived and concluded he had a severe chest infection. The vet gave Rex an injection and asked for some slightly warmed milk which he gave him through a syringe. Right before our eyes Rex went from being almost completely comatose to showing very definite signs of life. Mixed feelings when he started to resist the milk being poured down his throat, well done Rex for showing something of your normal fighting spirit!
The vet left instructions feed Rex every two hours with 80ml of slightly warmed milk and a promise that he would return at about mid day the following day. Emma, short for Emmanuel who is one of our askari (security guards) and I maintained the two hourly feeds through the afternoon, by the end of which Rex was clearly wanting to stand up although unable to do so when we tried to help him. I signed off early evening to go to bed having spent the previous night travelling back here.
This morning I went to put some clothes into the washing machine to find a bin liner next to it which I didn’t recall being there before. I looked inside, much to my horror I found Rex, this time there was no doubt that he’d gone to the great kennel in the sky. Not sure exactly what happened but he’d passed away at some time during the night.
So I’m left feeling really sad about this. Sad first and foremost for Rex, so much love still to show, so many flies still left to chase. And for Pass, his play mate and rival, who will need to come to terms with life alone. And, let’s be honest, sorry for myself, I feel I’ve lost a friend who so clearly loved the attention I gave him.
But perhaps the hardest aspect of this is the nagging doubt that had there been more help sooner, he would still be with us. I’ve been aware many times of the difficulties many people face in meeting medical bills in a country with no National Health Service. Paying for a vet for a sick animal may very well seem like an unimaginable extravagance. Perhaps it’s a mistake in becoming attached to animals – but it really doesn’t feel as if it is. Find myself trying, not terribly successfully, to process a variety of conflicting emotions both directly and indirectly attached to Rex’s passing. Good bye, Rex, great to know you, I’ll spend a bit more time with Pass as he looks around in vain for you to play with and boss around and help him to come to terms with his loss.
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