Please Take Me Home

Mending a broken heart is not an easy task, as anyone who has lost someone special will tell you, but I knew the time had come to move on.

My heart had shattered into a million pieces when my beloved Shadow left to go to a more peaceful life in heaven. Shadow had been just that – my shadow – for ten wonderful years, but my beautiful boy had developed cancer and it couldn’t be cured. Missing Shadow was the hardest thing I had ever had to go through, and now my family were urging me to get another dog – not to replace my Shadow, but to help heal my damaged heart.

So after a lot of consideration, here I was, wandering around the local dog pound with a very clear idea of what I wanted. My new dog had to be a boy, he had to be big and black, and he had to kind of remind me of Shadow. That’s exactly what I wanted.

The manager of the dog kennels said the large, black dogs were located at the back of the kennels, so off I went, but to get there I had to walk past all the smaller dogs. Of course they were all barking and trying to get my attention, except one scrawny little dog who had sidled up to the fence and seemed to be physically squashing himself right through the wire.

And then I noticed something intriguing – he was making the strangest noises, and if I didn’t know better I’d say he was talking to me. I spoke very quickly to him – told him what a lovely boy he was – then wandered up to see the big guys. Yes, there certainly were some lovely, big, black dogs looking for a new home, but something had changed in me and I couldn’t stop thinking about that little fellow who had caught my attention.

I decided that, before making a final decision, I’d have another chat with the little fellow, and so I did. One hour later we were driving home together, both of us looking and feeling a little confused. What had happened to my ‘very clear idea’ of what I wanted? I don’t really have an answer to that, but I just knew that this strange little dog was meant to come home with me.

The kennel manager had explained that ‘Razzy’ had been homed twice in the past six months and both times had ended up back in the local pound. They rescued him because he was only eighteen months old and they felt he had a good chance at being re-homed. Poor little Razzy – first of all having to live with such an awful name, and secondly to have been so mistreated – twice! I silently vowed that we would make Razzy very welcome in our home, and there and then I promised him that he would never be mistreated by our family.

The first item on the agenda was to give him an appropriate name and I already knew what that would be. I mean, let’s face it, Razzy sounds like a dog who performs in a circus, or perhaps plays up around town, but this little guy was definitely not a Razzy. He was an ‘Oliver.’ He looked very thin, but he stood tall, kind of like he’d been in the military, and he had a rather haughty look about him. Yes, definitely an Oliver.

I had a feeling that I’d have my work cut out for me trying to persuade Oliver to love and trust me, but I was so wrong. He immediately warmed to all family members, but none as much as our baby boy Malachi. Oliver and Malachi became inseparable almost from the very first day, and it wasn’t long before Malachi refused to go to sleep unless Oliver was right there with him in his room. They played together, ate together, even bathed together, and Oliver even pretended to watch Malachi’s favourite TV shows.

Poor Malachi, he tried so hard to pronounce Oliver’s name, but the best he could come up with was ‘Oller’ and so our Oliver became Oller. Every night as we put Malachi down to sleep his first question was always ‘Where's Oller?,” and on awakening in the morning it was the same question - ‘Where’s Oller?”

At times I still missed my beautiful boy, Shadow, but Oller was certainly filling the void in my heart, and I loved nothing more than seeing the great relationship developing between my two little boys.

Sometimes when Oller was in the car with me, he would sidle a little closer and place his paw on my lap, just like Shadow had always done. At first, this little gesture brought me to tears, but then I remembered that Oller had his own little personality and he wasn’t trying to replace Shadow – he was just being himself. And placing his paw on my lap was his way of showing love – and perhaps trust.

It wasn’t long before Oller became an established family member, and friends and other family members knew that where Malachi went, so too did Oller.

Our house was situated on a long, narrow block, which meant we were able to create a nice big sandpit at the back of the house for the boys to play in. I could clearly see them from the kitchen window, so they were free to roam and play with the many toys and digging tools in the sandpit. Chasing the chickens and playing in the sandpit was pretty much all they ever wanted to do, but when the weather was bad they happily accepted playing in their bedroom or watching one of Malachi’s favourite TV shows. Oller would take this opportunity to have a sneaky little nap, and he cleverly never let Malachi see he was actually napping and not watching his show.

On a beautiful spring day in September, Malachi and Oller were playing in the sandpit and, as I watched, I could see Oller digging frantically and showering poor Malachi with sand. Apparently they were digging a hole together, and Malachi was laughing so hard he actually fell over backwards.

How I loved watching these two play together. It was a toss up whether Malachi played more like a dog or Oller played like a boy, but these two had an amazing connection. They seemed to automatically know what the other was thinking, and what the other one wanted.

I carried on with my baking, every now and then checking on my boys to see what they were up to. Their latest trick – well, Malachi’s latest trick, was to turn on the hose and try to drench Oller. Of course that meant the sand got wet too and everything ended up like a mud pie. I watched with amusement as Malachi chased Oller with the hose, sometimes getting him, mostly missing, but with a lot of fun and laughter either way. I wasn’t fussed because they would both need a bath at the end of the day, and yes, they bathed together – always. ‘Disgusting,’ said my mother, and maybe she was right, but my two little guys were only happy when they were together and that’s all that mattered to me.

A little later I peeked out the window again and could see Malachi playing with his big Tonka in the sandpit, but there was no sign of Oller. Probably gone to do some personal business, I thought, because Oller never used the sandpit as his bathroom – he always wandered off to the side garden. So, unperturbed, I carried on with the vacuuming, and left the boys to play.

Now I checked the time and it was almost five o’clock – just starting to get dark. Bath time! I went outside and was surprised to see that there was still no sign of Oller, so I bent down and picked Malachi up, explaining it was time for his and Oller’s bath. I asked him ‘Where’s Oller?” and he slowly pointed to the side garden. There, lying on the ground, was Oller.

For just a moment I stared at Oller, waiting for him to wag his tail or get up, but I instinctively knew something was terribly wrong because Oller would never leave Malachi playing alone in the sandpit. Slowly I walked towards him, praying for some kind of movement, but I couldn’t see any. My heart was beating so loud in my chest I could hear it myself, and I was afraid. Why was Oller lying there so still? I felt tears stinging my eyes. Oller wasn’t moving.

And then I saw it, lying just to the side of our sweet little Oller. A long, brown snake slightly curled up and covered in blood. It’s head was detached from its body and I could tell straight away that Oller and the snake had been in a fight. A terrible fight. Now I saw the blood on Oller too, on his side and his front paws. I quickly put Malachi down on the ground and rushed to Oller’s side, praying aloud that he would still be alive.

I placed my hands on Oller’s chest and my heart filled with joy as I could feel it rising and falling ever so slowly. He was still with us. Everything would be okay! I rushed to the car and put Malachi in his toddler seat and ran back to get Oller. I gently picked him up, ran to the car, and deposited him on the passengers seat next to me. And I drove – fast – too fast – almost wishing the police would catch me for speeding and give me an escort to the local vets.

And, as I was driving, a little paw gently touched my lap, and I burst into tears. My dear little Oliver was reaching out to me, even though he was struggling for his life. I hugged and patted him to the best of my ability as I drove, telling him how much I loved him and how much he meant to our family. I told him how he had healed my heart and I was so grateful to him. I told him how much Malachi adored him, how he had completed our little family. And I told him how, on that very first day, his heart had reached out to mine and I had instinctively known we were meant to be together.

It seemed to me that I got every red traffic light that evening. By the time I reached the vets I was very stressed and extremely worried for my dear little friend. Our vet, Dan, ran out to the car because he heard the screeching of tyres as I raced into the carpark. He knew something was terribly wrong.

Dan picked Oller up and carried him gently, but quickly, into his surgery, where he started to examine him. I could only explain that the snake was a brown one, so Dan immediately gave Oller an anti-venom. And then we waited. Malachi was very confused – he didn’t understand what was going on – so I just told him Oller was sick and the vet was giving him some medicine to make him feel better.

We waited for more than an hour and finally Dan came out of his surgery, into the waiting room. His face looked drawn and sad, and he avoided my eyes – he didn’t want to tell me what I didn’t want to hear – that our beautiful, sweet little Oller was gone. I couldn’t believe it. How was I going to explain to Malachi that his very best friend in the whole world had left us? How could I tell my heart that Oller was not coming home?

More importantly, how could I explain to Malachi that Oller had died trying to save his life, because I knew that’s exactly what had happened. Oller had tackled the snake before it could reach the sandpit, and he had fought it so bravely. This bold, loyal little dog had killed the snake, but now I knew the snake had killed him too.

I could feel my heart starting to crumble again. How could this have happened? How could this be fair – to meet a wonderful friend like Oller in such an unusual way, to then lose him in such a shocking way. But as I was thinking these thoughts I could hear Oller’s voice in my head. He was telling me that he came to our family specifically to save Malachi; that if he hadn’t been there we would have lost our precious son.

Once Malachi was in bed and finally asleep, I fell to pieces. My beautiful, loyal little Oliver had come into our family to mend my broken heart, or so I thought, but turned out that was just a by-product of having him in our lives. He was sent to us to save our son’s life, and now he was gone. What a brave little man he was.

And now I know for sure that dogs do indeed go to heaven because I truly believe that Oliver was Shadow reborn. Shadow needed to know Malachi would be okay, so he sent Oliver to take care of him. And he did such a wonderful job.

Every day, when I look out my kitchen window and watch my little boy playing in the sandpit, I think of the rascally little guy who loved him so much, the little dog who gave his life to protect him.

We’ll never forget you, Oller, because you’ll live on in our hearts forever.