Dudley was my first dog and he was just dog when he came into my life.
However he transformed my view, I came to understand what a dog meant to those dog owners that tried to make me understand what they had.
He came into my life as a dog but left my life much more than just a dog….I didn’t own him on the end - he was a best friend.
We were blessed to have Barney in our lives for just over 13 years. He was very spirited, loyal and loving and had a strong personality! We made lots of happy memories as a family and I was so comforted to have Mark visit our home when it was time to say goodbye to Barney. Mark was so professional but yet caring and calming. It felt like he was saying goodbye to his pet too. Barney adored Mark and we are so grateful to have had Mark in our lives for so many years! Thank you Mark and Rebecca for all of your love and care for Barney over the years!
Kingston was our first family pet, we all learnt so much from him, we miss him so much. A massive part of our family life has gone & we are so grateful for the time we had with him, saying goodbye has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do & I’m still heartbroken.
When Mark first come to see Kingston, we thought it was going to be time to say goodbye but thanks to Mark we were able to spend more precious time with our boy.
Thank you so much
Jazz was a beautiful 12 year old springer whose health deteriorated very quickly. She hated to go in the car so it was wonderful that she was able to pass away peacefully at home. Marks care made the experience so much easier, we loved the way he tucked her toys in her paws. Jazz has left a huge hole in our hearts, her little ‘sister’ Pop still looks for but she too was with Jazz right to the end. Jazz was on the sofa when Mark arrived and that is where she slid gently away. The place is so quiet without her.
Ebony’s Mummy would like to say “I’d like to thank Mark for his kindness on helping me to say goodbye to my special, gorgeous girl, Ebony. I miss her terribly.
Thank you all.”
Millie’s owners would like to say :
‘I just wanted to thank Mark for being so lovely and thoughtful with Millie.
It made our decision so much easier and can’t thank him enough for being so loving and gentle!
Millie was such a special dog and left a massive void in our lives but Mark helped with this so much.
We know that the end for Millie was so peaceful and in a place that she loved - her beloved spot in the garden!
Thank you so much we will never forget this moment of kindness’
"Maisie was the best friend that you could have wished for.
Loved by everyone who met her, she was such a happy Human Bean, and gave so much happiness to our family during the 14 years that we were privileged to share our home with her. We were so lucky that she chose us to be in her pack, and in her final year, she made the Covid-19 lockdowns so much more bearable.
Thank you to Mark and his team for enabling us to say our final goodbyes to Maisie in the comfort of her own home. Their care and sensitivity was second to none."
Poppy’s owners would like to say “that she is always in our thoughts and will never be forgotten”
The Missing – and how to find them
2ND AUGUST 2020 | NATURE, NURTURE, NEWS FROM JEZ’S FARM
I’m not a religious person, nor am I overly spiritual. I believe in people; in love; kindness; dignity and respect, so I suppose you could say I’m sensitive: I love wholly and, vicariously by default, the losses are painful.
I like science; evidence; facts and at school was that – with hindsight, utterly irritating – child who always asked: “why?”. Exasperated teaching staff would have to shut down the endless pushing with: “it just is, okay?!”. I had a suspicion then that they might not have known the answer to my interrogation.
Despite all this, Friday was a day I can’t help but keep coming back to in my mind, and one I’m certain my memory of will never leave me. Almost one month to the day on what would have been his 13th birthday, I had to say the final goodbye to my beloved dog, Zeus. He was truly my best friend; my wingman – my buddy. For many years he was the only reason I returned home. Growing up I’d had dogs all my life, but there was something deeply special about Zeus. Everyone who met him commented on his personality, and wanted to take him home with them. He had a mighty presence; a captivating sensitivity about him, and an uncanny ability to know when something wasn’t right. He’d slowly approach to sit closely beside you, offering his awesome amber eyes and, if needed, a gentle lick. I spoke to him daily; sought him out regularly to be with him, and felt his ready reassurance.
His goodbye had been planned for some time. I wanted to say goodbye, where at all possible, in the summer, while the weather was still good, so he could enjoy his most favourite of activities: laying outside in the sun, sniffing scent rafts bound to the gently moving summer air. That planning, under the gentle guidance of our vet, Mark Westwood (Mark the Home Vet), and his wife the equally remarkable vet nurse, Rebecca, allowed the creation of some consciously memorable and truly special moments. The time was right for Zeus; his failing back legs were deteriorating rapidly and seeing him struggle to walk and stand was becoming distressing for everyone – the majesty of this wonderful dog slowly being stripped away. No longer could he manage the stairs to spend time with me in the office as he so often did; nor climb onto the bed for a Sunday morning special cuddle – a treat we all looked forward to and one he’d often push to make happen throughout the week as well. He once loved to run and chase, but could no longer do that. His happiness came from sniffing, gentle short walks, careful play and simply being with each other: the blinking into each others’ eyes, and the super soft cuddles. Coupled with his ageing muscles was an advancing renal failure, and blood tests revealing his heart was under considerable stress, too. His time was now.
His passing, at home, in the garden, with close family and Mark, possibly the most remarkable vet I’ve ever had the utter pleasure to meet (and I’ve met and worked with many), and welcome into our family, was a privilege. It was heartbreaking to let him go, but absolutely the right thing to do – and as life teaches us time and time again: doing the right thing often takes more courage, conviction, energy, and effort. Zeus’s passing was soul destroying for me. I cannot begin to explain the connection I felt to him, nor describe the power he had.
Earlier in the day I had looked up “Zeus”, to remind me of the meaning. I’ve no idea how I landed on the name Zeus when choosing a name for my then new puppy, but the mythical Greek God Zeus, according to theoi.com, was: “King of the Gods and the god of the sky, weather, law and order, destiny and fate, and kingship… depicted as a regal, mature man with a sturdy figure.” I wasn’t to know who Zeus was to become when he was afforded the name as an eight week old puppy, but you could not have better described the regal “King Zeus” as we often referred to him; his somewhat pious character; strong, regal form and occasional stoic independence.
And so, to the point of my writing today. Feeling like doing absolutely nothing but letting the earth consume me following our emotional and heartbreaking final goodbye, I suggested taking Marley for a short walk. The weather had been scorching; one of the three hottest days ever recorded in the UK, and it was beginning to cool. I didn’t want to walk. I had the Mother of all headaches. I’d kept everything together and quietly grieved in small doses when I couldn’t hold the tears back any longer since confirming the appointment with the vet earlier in the week – and actually for several months prior as I watched my big dog’s body slowly beginning to fail. The emotional rollercoaster of seeing Zeus’s deterioration over several months had an impact on everyone who knew him. It had deeply affected me because I knew the time was coming to say my final goodbye. An hour of grieving in the sun had probably given me heat stroke, too. It was like being hit full force, twice, by a sledgehammer. Once to the head; once to the heart. I don’t know why we went for a walk with Marley that evening, and I honestly don’t know how. I had no energy. But on that walk something astonishing happened that will live with me forever.
The crack in the sky.
Remember; I’m not a spiritual person. I don’t “believe”. I followed and practiced the core fundamentals of Buddhism for about six years or so, but gently let it go because of the reincarnation element (a fundamental part of Buddhism). My science brain just couldn’t accept that. A short while after our vet had driven Zeus away, and as we walked Marley out of the farm gates and up the road, the weather began to turn. The wind picked up and blew a warm, comforting breeze with strength, and a few almost imperceptible drops of storm rain were felt. I looked over my shoulder and up into the sky and there, among the light grey clouds, which obscured the brilliant, bright, cloudless sky of the day so far, was a gap. A crack in the sky and the brightest orange rays of the setting sun shone with such power and almost ethereal majesty. As I looked at wept, two flashes of lightning worked their way from the sky down to the earth. It was as though he, or his spirit, was there. The God of the sky, weather, destiny and fate. Comforting us. Of course, the reality for me and my logic, is that it was an utter coincidence. Ten minutes earlier or later on the walk and there would have been nothing like it – it wouldn’t have been missed, nor considered. But that coincidence just wrapped up Zeus’s life so perfectly. His life; his passing; his spirit. What a joyous moment. We turned back with Marley, letting him lead the pace and length of the walk and I noticed how he kept stopping and staring at a fixed point in the distance, gently sniffing. Marley is a working dog and will often spot or scent wildlife like hares or deer through the fields. But the fields are cut; the crop harvested and there’s an unobstructed view of literally nothing but flat field. The wind was gentle but with a force that you could feel the swell; the changing direction, so any scent he picked up would have moved direction. His eyes and posture were fixed. He walked a few paces, and kept returning to fixing his eyes on the same spot in the distance. We’ve walked this road hundreds of times in the past few years of living here and never before has Marley behaved that way. It was then that I realised he was looking dead-straight at the pet crematorium at the end of the road, nestled into a small lake nature reserve. I’ve never visited, and it’s far away enough that we’ve never even walked near it; the small sign being the only indication of its existence. That is where Mark, our wonderful vet, had taken Zeus to be cremated. No one saw Mark drive there. But it was as if Marley knew. There were no telling signs that Zeus was there, but it was as if Marley knew his friend of 11 years was there.
Even when he was alive I was conscious that Zeus had taught me so many things. But perhaps the most endearing is the power of presence. Presence is a remarkable thing. To be present with someone; to truly listen to them, to seek to understand – or to simply be with them; it’s a gift and one that humans seem to need to tune into, or develop, or learn. It is absent more than it is observed.
Yet looking around the garden, and sitting inside the house, I am struck by an emptiness. A silence. A definite and palpable change in the energy in the house. It is striking. Is that real? Do we give off an energy? Of course some will say “yes!”, but to my logical science brain I err and doubt. Or at least I did. Even if Zeus was in the house; if I was in the garden he was “around”. It’s difficult to explain but I knew he was there somewhere: on the sofa; in one of his favourite garden spots, or on warm days when the door was open, laying with his head rested on the threshold. Do we project that spirit; that presence into spaces, which comforts us? Do we hold the presence of others and carry it within us? It’s not like when I was away working I’d feel Zeus’s presence in a room, or any other space. He definitely was always at home, where he physically was. But his absence and the associated silence perceived now, is as deafening as it is heart wrenching.
Nature heals; it teaches, and it offers both guidance and support. But only if we listen. For centuries – millennia even – the dynamic relationship between humans and nature (including animals) has been intrinsic. As our species evolved and more aggressively explored our intelligence, we drew closer to our own technological and intellectual advancements, while moving further away from those ties we had with nature, and in many cases severing them entirely. To the detriment of our mental health; physical health; wellbeing – our children’s social and educational development, and our ability to live harmoniously with nature. Whether there was anything in that magical, moving, perfect moment on Friday evening or not, it was undoubtedly a reminder that if we listen, nature has many of the answers we are looking for.
The following day, Saturday, the warm wind continued. It soothed the tears that flowed with mourning, and the sharp pangs reality brought in random waves. Mark visited with Zeus’s ashes, but I couldn’t do anything with them, nor accept them – it was too painful, and too soon. But today, Sunday, the weather has shifted. What I can only describe and identify as a spiritual presence, has moved. Perhaps gone. A balance is restored, and today we opened up the box from the crematorium, sprinkling and stroking Zeus’s ashes by hand into the large terracotta pot planted into which is a tree, in his memory. We topped his ashes with compost and gently dug in the beautifully fragrant, tactile and vibrant evergreen apple-scented chamomile lawn. The tree, a weeping pear, was staked and watered. The sun bore down so strongly, with a warmth that comforted. Zeus is here. Where is here, though? In my heart, certainly. My memories – of course. But he’s here in a gentle, almost imperceptible presence, too. It’s something I just cannot explain, and something that has surprised me more than I can begin to describe, or understand.
There’s a lesson for all of us in what I’ve experienced in Zeus’s passing, and I’m touched beyond measure – and grateful eternally – for the opportunities to learn, which Zeus, and nature continue to provide. I feel blessed to be one of those who listens.
Mark the Home Vet (comprising services offered by both Mark and Rebecca) comes with my fullest, sincerest, heartfelt recommendation – I simply can’t endorse them enough.
Molly’s Fur Dad has written the following about Molly:
Molly was 24-7 with me , home, work and holidays.
Work was motor-home, caravan shows so we had contact with thousands of people and their dogs over the years and she was well loved by many and very much my identity.
I can only again say thank you for your care and thoughts which helped in a massive way from the start but especially that day . Molly never ‘licked’ as a greeting anybody other than you Mark so that was very special, we were blessed to have you looking after her.
Billy came to us at 12 weeks old in September 2006.
Hannah was 13 and diagnosed with lupus after being very poorly, we were unsure how active her future would be and she had always begged for a dog, so it seemed the right time and Billy (Wildboy William) joined our family.
Billy was a loving faithful companion. He earned the nick name Houdini as he seemed to appear in places he shouldn’t of been able to get in. He loved human contact, his walks, tug of war and dinner treats. He would quite happily ignore us on walks as sniffing was far more enjoyable! The bond between Hannah and Billy was special... we had a “no on the bed” rule but clearly didn’t apply to those two!
Later years found Billy a little deaf and stiffening joints... but he was always so agile and could hear when walkies was mentioned!
The last few weeks were difficult and we really struggled with contemplating the final outcome. Lockdown was particularly worrying, but we need not have worried, after contacting Mark we were taken care of with lots of communication.
In our heart of hearts we knew that the kindest goodbye and thank you was to let him go. We are sure that Billy was aware that this was goodbye, he was unusually calm and let Mark do what he needed.
We were given plenty of time with Billy and our goodbye was the best we could’ve expected. He was finally at rest.
It was never going to be easy, 14 years with your little friend is a long time, but we except it was a full life for him.
For us there is a huge gap... an empty bed, no bowls, no sniffing, no pawing, no loves, no running in his dreams, but he will never be forgotten and so so missed.
Thank you once again to the team at Mark the home vet, so thoughtful, caring and kind.
After 15 years, Grace has passed and left us with a hole that can never be filled. However, this exceptional dog has touched so many lives that she deserves to be honoured. Grace, daughter to Sebastian and Clara has helped many people through her many guises.
Grace was a Pets As Therapy (PAT) dog and visited schools, nurseries, retirement homes and hospitals. She helped many children overcome their fear of animals. She endured hours of tummy rubs, ear pulls, ear wiggles surrounded by children and she loved every minute of it. She thought humans were there to adore her and stroke her. She visited people suffering with dementia and enriched their lives in ways that other humans did not. She walked the corridors of the children’s ward turning heads wherever we went, it always took me a long time to walk through the hospital as we were stopped by patients, visitors and staff alike. She rested a head on the beds of poorly children and made them smile, she flopped on her back for tummy rubs from children recovering from illness and she enjoyed attention from staff as they took a moment out of work to breathe and stroke her and she did it all with a smile.
Grace was also a wonderful teacher. She endured many bandaging practices from student Veterinary Nurses, often to be seen with an ear bandage or a ‘poorly paw’. Grace has made me a better Veterinary Nurse. Grace has made Daddy a better Vet. Grace helped me in my practicals and my final exam for my Canine Bowen Technique training, reminding me that dog led practices are subtle and more powerful, and since qualifying she has attended Continued Professional Develop days. Grace has made me a better Canine Bowen Technique Practitioner. Grace was also an outstanding Reiki Teacher, allowing students to share energy with her and showing them how to best practice as Animal Reiki Practitioners. Grace has made me a better Animal Reiki Teacher.
Grace was also chosen to be a catalogue model due to her calm and beautiful nature.
But she was not just a teacher, a PAT dog or a model, she was our friend, our snuggle partner and our guide. She loved running around the countryside and would always bring some undergrowth back as a souvenir. She enjoyed many hours with our children, sitting, playing, following, listening and loving them, they are truly blessed to have had her in their lives, as are we.
Grace helped me teach our puppy Magena the ways of the Westwood house and all of her loving skills and now we are all grieving the gap in our lives. But, she is with her Mummy, Daddy dog and her Molly Mango and I know they are all running through the undergrowth, chasing balls, jumping in the water and snuggling together once more.
Good night my darling, Grace. Thank you for enriching everything and everybody you touched. Mummy, Daddy, your furless brother and sister and little brothers Magena and Jon love you but will never forget you x
12 years ago we opened our front door to a rather over weight rescue dog called Sheila. We were told to change her name slightly so over our threshold and into our hearts walked Bella.
She became a central part of our family, always there to meet you at the door when you came home and hogging the rug in front of the wood burner on a cold winter’s day. The house fills so empty without her now.
3 years ago Bella was lucky enough to meet Rebecca for her CBT treatment and subsequently Mark for her care. We were so fortunate to have them both in Bella’s life and blessed that they could make her passing so peaceful, in her favourite place in the garden surrounded by birds singing, spring flowers and more love than we thought possible.
Thank you Mark and Rebecca for your care, kindness and compassion you showed, not only to Bella but the family, on that difficult day and for bring her home to us.
Tia came into our lives aged 5 and gave us 7 wonderful years of love and mischief. She was an absolute diva but we loved her unconditionally. Mark made her passing as peaceful as possible, calming Tia down and providing mum and I with the time and space to say good bye to her in the comfort of her own home.
The care and compassion of Mark was obvious. He explained everything clearly and thoughtfully. The card and seeds he shared when he brought back Tia's ashes was a beautiful gesture.
I cannot recommend Mark enough. The service he offers is priceless.
We have some wonderful memories of Tia and will keep her in our hearts forever.
"Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation."
Dear Mark,
Many thanks for bringing Milo’s ashes back yesterday and for the sympathy card, which was a lovely gesture.
We really do appreciate the wonderful care and support that you provided for Milo and for all of us recently. Milo had been a central member of our family for the last 16 years; we all loved him to bits, so his passing was inevitably an emotional time for us. In fact, much more so than I had imagined. We felt particularly fortunate to have found you to help him and us through this difficult time. The fact that he passed away in his own basket, in his own house and surrounded by his loved ones made for a very peaceful and fitting end to a long and happy life. Your kindness, dedication, professionalism, time and sound advice through that whole process were enormously appreciated.
Thank you again for all your support; we will be sure to recommend you to all of our pet owning friends and, who knows, we may yet have another dog for you to look after one day!
Best wishes,
Sadly Sally’s family had to say goodbye to her last week. Her Dad wrote this wonderful poem for Sally:
A Word for Sally
Sally Wo Wo, it’s time to go.
Your last tricks – Rollover, Highjack The Hat,
shows resolve and spirit right to the end.
Although you are trying,
your strength’s reserve has let you down.
And whatever it is, lurking nameless within.
You were solid in presence,
and while others ran wild after whatever the chase,
plodding along, by heel, you were there.
Whatever you did, and wherever,
long walks or short runs were took in your stride.
Doggedness – a word that means … you.
Sometimes we have to say a goodbye to our beloved pets. Last week Mark had to visit Lotti so that her family could say their final goodbye to her in the peace of their own home rather than in a stressful veterinary clinic.
This week we received the following message from Lotti's family:
'I cannot thank you enough Mark, for your kindness, patience and compassion every time you visited but particularly on the evening we said goodbye to Lotti, I will never forget how you tried so hard to make such a difficult time a little easier for Lotti and us, you really are a one in a million vet.'
