Benji

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INTRODUCTION

I designed this eulogy to remember Benji, but also to put right a long-standing wrong. After his death, Benji was cremated with other pets which had died, but because I was so stunned by his passing, I didn't think to ask for his ashes. Where they went I won’t ever know. In fact, I might even have had buried him in the garden if I had a choice.

Benji's passing would have had more of an impact had it happened, say, six months earlier or six months later, but because he died just before Christmas, it, along with his memory, was brushed aside. In the months and years that followed, it was as if Benji had never lived. This rankled with me. Benji was a much-loved family pet, and he, and his memory, deserved much, much better than that. By 2008, it was time he had some type of memorial and a tribute to his life. Now, thanks to Gone Too Soon, he finally has got one. One month later, I got three photographs of him enlarged, and framed. They now are in my house.

This memorial also means that means that I can now move on, as I must. It doesn't mean that Benji has been forgotten however. He never will be.
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BENJI

Benji was a crossbreed type of dog. I am not exactly sure what he was from, but I can see some Foxhound, Spaniel and Jack Russell in him.

My mum got Benji from a pet shop that is no longer there, on 21st March 1988. She brought him home under her coat. I had been hankering for a puppy since Patch died in late August 1986. She showed me Benji as a pleasant surprise when I arrived home from school.

I originally wanted to call him Bengo, but my mum and dad both said it sounded silly, and that people would think his name was Bingo or Bongo, so we decided to call him Benji instead.

Benji whined a great deal during the early hours of the Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of the first week, and I got up to console him at about 2am and 3am on the first and third night. Benji was obviously was pining for his mother and siblings, and also distressed because he had been taken to a strange place alone. After the first week though, he was fine, and never whined ever again in his life. I also can remember letting him out in the garden on the first week in the middle of the night.
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BENJI - HIS LIFE

Within a matter of weeks, it was clear that Benji was a friendly, loving, gentle, sweet and mild-mannered dog with a cute face and soulful, dark brown eyes. He had a look that would make you think that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He also was very energetic, and required a long walk daily.

Benji could be very intelligent, but he also was crafty if or when he wanted to be. He used to, when we were eating our dinners, perform an act, in which he would sit down and look at us, close his eyes, and keep closing them until we gave him something to eat. If that trick failed, and our meal had nearly finished, his eyes would suddenly burst wide open and he would offer you his paw! As a result, we usually ended up giving Benji something to eat.

In November 1988 he chewed a carpet up, probably out of boredom, which my dad wasn't pleased about, and as a result, converted the outhouse for Benji to sleep in. My dad painted the outhouse white, cleared everything out, and put in an old duvet, several blankets and cushions for Benji to lie on.

Benji was given a rubber ring, along with a David Owen/David Steel squeaky toy. He used to run about with it, in the house or garden, making a noise. When he wore that out, we got him one of Margaret Thatcher! He also had a squeaky toy called the "Dog Times", which was a white, rolled up newspaper. Benji was also never without a bone throughout his life. He used to lie down in the garden and chew one.

Apart from holidays, Benji slept in the outhouse every night for the next four years. Benji would go in when we went to bed, and would be let out when we got up. This arrangement ended at Christmas 1992 because my dad wanted to use the outhouse for something else and due to cold weather. After that, Benji slept in his basket at night or in other places in the kitchen. I wish again, with hindsight, we had bought him a big bean bag to sleep on instead.

Benji was a brilliant watchdog. He would bark loudly if anyone came down the path he didn't know, or walked past the house, though he was protecting his property. Benji would not have made a great guard dog though. If burglars had broke in, he would probably have started playing with them! He loved people. If they or anyone had attacked a family member, that would have been a different story. Benji would have literally died trying to protect his family from attack.

The song "Virginia Plain" has an instrumental piece in it. In Benji's early years, when he was in the living room, I used to point to all the furniture in the room during the piece, and my finger would always stop at Benji when it came to an end! Benji was the sort of dog that if you teased him, he would walk away from you, rather than growl or even snap.

On Sunday 22nd January 1989, we went to Scarborough for the day with Shep, a black and white border collie. It was Benji's first ever sight of the sea, and he barked at it! He didn't like the sea one bit. When we stopped halfway there, Benji was literally sick, though he wasn't on the return journey home.

In his early years, Benji barked at Snow! He did this in November 1988, December 1990 and February 1991. As he got older though, he got used to it.

In February 1989, Benji killed something for the only time in his life, a bird - accidentally as he was playing with it. We used to take Benji for walks over two fields at Monk Bretton. I called them the first field and the second field. A week later, on Valentine's Day 1989, my dad and me were out on a walk with Benji at the second field, and a bird defecated on his head from the sky! I jokingly said that it was the bird's brother getting his revenge!

Benji was frightened of balloons. In December 1989, not knowing this, I put a balloon near him and he leaped into my mum's arms. I don't know why, but after that year, we never had any in the house again at Christmas. Benji disappeared into the kitchen at my Grandmother's house the following Christmas when a balloon was there, so we removed the balloon.

On a hot August day in 1990 Benji was stung in the mouth by a wasp. I saw what happened and waited until the wasp landed on the lino floor, stamped on it and then crushed it to death with my trainer. We took Benji to the vet afterwards, but he was fine, apart from being shaken up. He was given something, and was back to normal afterwards.

Benji went missing three times, on New Year's Day 1990, 30th September 1990 and 17th November 1991. On each occasion, he was out all night, causing us no end of worry. The first two times he made his way back home, as he came back to our gate the morning after. On the last time Benji went missing, we had let him in the garden to do his business, just as it was time for him to go to bed at about 11.30pm. Benji, however, had other ideas. He jumped over the wall and ran off down the street. We went looking for him, but with no luck. Perhaps a female dog's company had enticed him away, or her scent! We will never know. We found him a few streets away, at about 7.30 the following morning, muddied up to hell. We put him in the bath and fed him, but Benji received a rollicking for going missing and making us worry.

Benji didn't like fireworks or Bonfire night. During the night of every November 5th during his lifetime, I didn't take him out for a walk, and he used to go under the table or lie in his basket when they went off. Thunderstorms didn't bother Benji though. I remember, notably in his lifetime, a few severe thunderstorms. Benji didn't react to any.

Benji could be silly, and I don't mean that an insulting way, but a humorous one. He played with his lead if he wanted to go for a walk. I remember a couple of times in his early years, he ran about late at night, in the house, with his lead in his mouth, angrily, in the hope that he would somehow be going for a walk! Another time, I also remember Benji, aged about 22 months, chewing a cup one night as if it was a bone! He also would chase his tail on numerous occasions whilst in the garden, though maybe that was caused by fleas.

Benji was selectively deaf. If I was walking him and other dogs were around, he would bolt off. I would shout his name, which he usually answered to, but on such occasions, he pretended not to hear, yet the "deafness" magically disappeared when I ever mentioned "food", "walk" or "lead".

When I spoke the latter two words, he would cock his head, before jumping up and wagging his tail. Whenever I slapped my thighs, he would always come towards me for a hug and a stroke, whether he was in his basket or in the garden. Benji loved having his chest rubbed or stroked.

Benji certainly wasn't deaf when he heard the song "I was Kaiser Bill's batman". He would start barking and howling if he heard it! I think the whistling of the song drove him barking mad! However, as the song was so crap, Benji was in his rights to go mad at it!

From the summer of 1989, Benji went to Carlton Road Quarry often for walks. He went to the two fields at Monk Bretton field on walks. My Grandmother's house was a favourite. She has a long back garden, and there is a field at the back of it. Until 2000, when it was fenced off, you could go through my Grandmother's garden via her gate from the field. Benji would run down the field. Then, he waited at the gate. When you opened that, he would then run down my Grandmother's garden.

Benji loved his walks. When I let him off his lead, he joyfully ran like an express train for long distances, panting, but he always kept an eye on me, unless another dog was nearby! He would always strain at the lead wherever you took him. From February 1993 to late October 1994, this (then) young girl who lived nearby called Natalie would make a fuss of Benji when I took him to New Lodge Woods. She was born four months before Benji. When I wasn't taking Benji for a walk, Natalie used to ask where my "Mad Dog" was, as Benji always strained at the lead, before a walk.

My Grandmother always made Benji welcome. Every Wednesday and Saturday she bought Boiled Ham from the market, and always put a bowl of cold water down for him, when she knew Benji was coming. Benji always looked at her fridge when he visited. If my Grandmother had no Boiled Ham, she gave Benji cheese. However, it was my mum who usually took Benji there on a morning when she visited. My dad's dad, often gave Benji chicken when we visited him on occasion, up to his death in January 1992. Shep's owner, my aunt, always gave Benji turkey when he visited.

When we went on holiday, Benji had to go to the Kennels at Havercroft. He didn't mind sleeping in the outhouse in those four years, but he absolutely hated the kennels, because he thought we were abandoning him. Benji would whine and bark when we pulled away. When we returned, Benji would get the huff on for a couple of days, and be totally unresponsive, before he was back to his usual self. This happened every time he was left there.

On 11th September 1992, I, along with two friends were playing a casual game of golf at the second field at Monk Bretton. By coincidence, my parents and Benji came past on a walk and as I took a shot, the ball just missed my parents heads, and as the ball came down, Benji, off the lead, ran after it. He had to be stopped from putting it in his mouth, as he tried to chew on it!

On 28th November 1993, my Grandmothers house was burgled whilst she was out. Extra locks were fitted along with CCTV, and on the night of Wednesday 1st December/Thursday 2nd December 1993, Benji and myself slept at my Grandmothers house. We got some blankets for Benji to lie on. This was the only night, apart from going to the hated kennels that Benji spent away from home.

Benji also visited the Pitfield, where he went a lot when my Grandfather was alive, and on occasion, after my Grandfather's death. Another haunt was the Dearne Valley Walk way, where he often went in the final 20 months of his life. Benji was also a visitor to Athersley South school field, where he went on the walk to my Grandmothers sometimes, or was a walk in its own right, or New Lodge Woods, between February 1993 and Halloween 1994. In September 1993, Benji and I had a walk around Worsbrough Mill County Park.
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1994 – BENJI’S FINAL YEAR

On 1st January 1994 I took Benji on a walk to my Grandmothers. I had no idea at Christmas Day 1993 that it was to be Benji’s final ever Christmas or that 1st January 1994 this was to be his final ever New Year's Day, or that Benji's birthday at the end of January was to be his last.

On 10th April 1994 my dad's sister gave birth to her first son, and every Sunday, from him being four weeks old, to the end of 1995 we looked after him. He also visited often with his mum, but Benji was never once jealous of the attention foisted on my cousin.

Hoyle Mill on 12th June 1994 was a happy occasion which sticks in my memory. I lay on my back that afternoon, admiring the view, listening to the rewind hour on local Radio on my Walkman, with Benji sat alongside me.
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On 24th June 1994, Benji had his annual booster, and nothing amiss was noticed. The vet said Benji was in an excellent health for a dog of his age, and that his energy levels were akin to those of a dog half his age. The vet told my mum that he would see Benji 12 months later, when he was due to receive his next booster.

Any suggestion then that Benji had six months left to live would have been too daft to laugh at. I would have thought that if this were the case, Benji would perhaps be run over and killed in December 1994. In June, July and August 1994, but what we couldn't see were the very dark storm clouds slowly approaching. His final photographs were taken in August 1994.
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I DON'T LIKE THE LOOK OF THAT.........

On 8th September 1994, Benji was his usual, active and energetic self, but when I stroked him, I noticed that there was a very small lump on the right hand side of his body. I hadn't seen it before, but I had an instinctive feeling that the lump was something serious. However, at the time, Benji wasn't losing weight, and hadn't lost his appetite. In fact he never lost any weight, and still had an appetite even on the very final day of his life.

In hindsight, I wish we had taken Benji to the vet for his booster in August 1994, when its growth must have started, or at least, the day after finding the lump. By hesitating, we lost valuable time.

After delaying two weeks, in the hope that the lump might disappear, we noticed that it hadn't. That was when we decided to take Benji to the vets. On 22nd September, the vet was phoned and an appointment made for the following Monday. The twelve months that the vet had expected to see Benji had turned into three.
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THE TRUTH COMES OUT.........

My Dad took Benji to the vet's on 26th September 1994 as the lump hadn't disappeared, though there had been growth in its size. After taking X-rays and a biopsy, the vet told my Dad to return in a week, when he would give him the results.

My dad and Benji returned to learn the results of the previous week, on 3rd October 1994. I hoped that if it was a tumour, it was non-malignant and non-Cancerous, and could be removed via an operation.

The vet told my dad that the tests and biopsy had come back and showed that the lump on Benji's right hand side was Cancer. That was bad enough. However, when my dad asked the vet how much the operation would cost to remove the lump, he was given a piece of devastating news. The vet told my dad to put his money away, and for whatever reason, said he couldn't operate on Benji.

I think the vet said that the tumour had attached itself to part of his rib, and that it was very aggressive. My parents or me would have paid for the bill if it could have saved him, no matter how much it would have cost, but according to the vet, that wasn't an option. The vet didn't say how long Benji had left to live though.

My dad was too dazed to say anything, so he didn't question what the vet told him. If I had been there, and I had been thinking clearer, I would have asked the vet to remove the ribs and put artificial ones in, but I wasn't there, and to be honest, I probably would have been too dazed to say anything as well.

My dad and Benji walked back home. My dad chose to walk to take the news in. He said it was the longest walk he had ever taken in his life. During the journey, my dad thought to himself, "How am I going to break this?".

It all seemed unreal. Benji had just been sentenced to death. There was no hope and the prospect of losing Benji suddenly now seemed very real. I envisaged Benji going from being an active, vigorous, energetic dog to a lame or tired invalid. That didn't happen, or at least, wouldn't for some time yet.
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BENJI'S LIFE AFTER THE DIAGNOSIS

On the afternoon of 6th October 1994, I took Benji went on a walk to the Carlton Road Quarry and Dearne Valley Walkway. On 9th October, we went to the Hoyle Mill hill for the final time. It was a sunny day. Whilst Benji ran around and sniffed, then sat beside me, I laid on my back and thought about the devastating news that we had been given six days before. I was determined that every day with Benji now would be precious, and that he was going to enjoy the rest of his life, whether he had a day, a week, a month, a year, two years, three years or more left to live. All we knew that he was going to die. We didn't know when.

During October and November 1994, despite the evil lump which had made its uninvited, unwanted and unwelcome presence on his body, nothing changed and things just went on as at any time before the lump was found. Benji's life still consisted of two daily dinners, a walk, a sleep and spells in the garden if the weather was fine, running around and playing with his ball, squeaky toy or chewing a bone. He remained fine, and showed no signs of tiredness or health problems whatsoever. I couldn't have kept up with him running in October and November 1994. He still jumped up and down in excitement when you showed him his lead.

Every Halloween during his life, Benji used to bark when Trick or Treaters came down the path, but once they arrived at the door, he stopped barking and would try to get out to greet them. Halloween 1994 was no different, and that night, Benji got up and started barking when Trick or Treaters came down the path and knocked at the door. He stopped, however, when the door was opened. I remember him running out to them and they asked if he bit. I said he didn't.

On 6th November 1994, Benji went on a walk to the Dearne Valley Walkway for the final ever time. I took Benji to my Grandmothers for a walk on all four Friday's in November 1994. Benji always went to my Grandmothers on Fridays for a walk with my mum, but I took him those weeks because my mother was unable to.

Benji remained in such good health that we were able to leave him alone for most of the day on 20th November, when we went to Thoresby Market, before I took him on a walk that evening. On 26th November, I took him for a walk around both fields at Monk Bretton, for the last ever time. On the 30th November, he went for a walk at Carlton Road Quarry for the final time.

We entered December, but there was still no sign of any deterioration in Benji's health or strength, despite the tumour's unchecked and untreated growth. It seemed that he would be alive at least to see 1995 and his birthday on the 28th January.

On the morning of Friday 2nd December, Benji was well enough to be able to go to my Grandmother's, with my mother. Again, he ran down the field at top speed, non-stop, until he reached the garden gate. That morning he ate some of his favourite boiled ham, and drank water. This was to be Benji's final long walk, though we didn't know it at the time. It was also the final time he would ever visit my Grandmother's house.

Two days later, we are able to leave him alone from 10am to 4pm when we went to Piece Hall at Halifax. I took him to Monk Bretton field that night on a walk, and he seemed fine, with no problems whatsoever.
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DECLINE - PART ONE

The first sign of any deterioration in Benji's health showed itself on the evening of 5th December 1994, exactly nine weeks after we were told there was no hope. Benji's walking was fine, and Benji could still run like a express train, but for the first ever time in his life, he had to stop, before he could run again. This had been unthinkable with Benji, let alone unseen before now.

Despite his reduced ability to run, Benji's health remained stable during the next seven days, and he went for a walk to the first field most evenings that week.

The final time Benji and me ever went for a walk together was on the evening of 11th December 1994. Benji managed to walk around the field without stopping. Even then, he was able to run at lightning speed for about 20 yards on three separate occasions, but had to stop for two minutes in-between. Benji still wanted to run forever, but his body wouldn't let him. Five days before his life ended, over 20 yards, Benji would have outran me, and I was a very fast runner, but over 40 yards I would have outran him.

Whilst Benji and I were walking around the field, I accepted that we would have to let him go within the next two to three months, and that Christmas and his birthday were to be the final ones he was ever going to see. I knew that Benji definitely wouldn't be around the following summer, but at the same time, I had no idea that this would be the case by the end of the week, or that never again would Benji ever go to or see that field.
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DECLINE - PART TWO

Tuesday 13th December 1994 was when Benji's health began to rapidly, and seriously deteriorate. I remember that morning very clearly. Benji was shivering and struggled to get out of his basket when fed, though he made it. He didn't cry or howl though. If Benji had been in pain, we would have phoned the vet and would have had put him on painkillers, or even taken the grim measure that was to follow days later. That morning, I also noticed for the first time, that a swelling had appeared in his back legs. He didn't go on a walk that day. It would have been cruel to have forced him to.

Benji's condition, however, improved a shade on the 14th December, to the extent that he was able to go on a short walk to the garages and he wasn't shivering. On the 15th, there was no change in his health, but his back legs continued to swell, which caused us deep concern.

Both the 14th and 15th December passed quietly for Benji, as he was mainly in the house, sleeping or lying either in his basket, in the living room or on the kitchen carpet. Even though his back legs were swollen, and the tumour now was of a large size, (It grew quickly during the first half of December 1994, when his decline began), Benji was not totally listless. Nor was Benji immobile. He was still able to move, and to walk about the house and the garden without any apparent difficulty. The movement in his front legs were unaffected. Also, Benji was never incontinent.

His character didn't change. I thought that those final days might have made him bad tempered and he would have been excused for being so. If he had growled or whined, it would have been understandable, but he did neither. When I came in during the final four days of his life, he still wagged his tail and walked towards me for a stroke and a cuddle, which of course I gave him. I didn't hear Benji whine or cry out once, so that indicates that he wasn't in any pain.

Just after 1am on Friday 16th December 1994, Benji was asleep in his basket. He woke when I came into the kitchen. I stroked Benji, hugged him, sat and talked to him for about 10 minutes. I then kissed him goodnight on the top of his head and rubbed his chest. My final words were, in a soft voice, "Goodnight Benji". I turned my back, looked at him, and then went to bed, this being the final time that I would ever see him.
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BENJI'S FINAL MORNING

Just after nine on the morning of Friday 16th December 1994, my mum decided to make the heartbreaking, but necessary decision to have Benji put to sleep. She woke me up and told me that the time had arrived. My mum said that she was going to phone the vet later that morning, but also Benji was going to die in his own home. There was no way he was going to end his life on a vets table.

I didn't get up that morning, because I didn't want to see his end. I knew Benji's health had dramatically deteriorated that week, but I hadn't mentally prepared myself for this. I am normally the sort of person who can face anything, but that morning, I lay in bed, before eventually falling asleep again. I was fast asleep when Benji went to sleep, and will be forever grateful that I was.

Even at this late stage, Benji wasn't finished. With less than two hours to live, he slowly, but steadily, got out his basket, and finished off a meal, in a standing position. Nothing stopped Benji when food was on offer! That morning, he didn't even leave a scrap. Benji then drank half a bowl of water.

My mum shortly afterwards took Benji for a walk to the garages nearby, for the final time. As incongruous as to what was going to happen, the sun was out and the sky was blue.

My mum let Benji off the lead, and he walked around the grass at the garages. He sniffed around in peace, wagging his tail, just as curious about his surroundings as on the very first day he was brought him home. After 15 minutes, he walked back to my mum, indicating he'd had enough.

When they returned, Benji was given another bowl of cold water, half of which he drank. He then laid down in his basket.

Shortly afterwards, my mum phoned the vet who said that Benji's illness was inoperable just over two months earlier. After arriving, the vet assured my mum that Benji wasn't feeling any pain whatsoever. However, he told my mum that edema had set in, causing the swelling in his hind legs.

If present, I may have asked something like, "Why didn't you operate? Why did it have to come to this?". I might have asked him why he didn't put Benji on chemotherapy tablets to try to shrink the tumour, if it was inoperable, but of course, that was too late, and irrelevant, by now.

The vet told my mum that Benji could have lived to see the New Year, but that might have meant him being constantly in extreme and severe pain, or becoming incontinent, or immobile, or being found dead in his basket one morning, as the edema would have gone to his heart and killed him. Thankfully, he, and we, escaped all of those horrific options, and as a result, though he had finally become ill, he spent his final days in dignity, in the warmth and comfort of his home, with his family who loved him.


Benji ran to my mum when he was a puppy of eight-weeks old. This was why she chose him. The other puppy was left in the litter ran away from my mum.

Now, in the final moments of his life, my mum said, "Come on Benji, over here" in a soft voice, as she stood near the living room door. Benji got out of his basket, wagged his tail and did exactly that by walking over to her. He then sat down. My mum hugged Benji for one last time and rubbed his chest. She kissed him, and said goodbye and held him when the grim deed was done.

Benji slowly closed his eyes, and seconds later, shortly after 11.30am on Friday 16th December 1994, whilst in my mum's arms, Benji life had come to an abrupt and premature, but peaceful, painless and silent, end. Ten minutes later. The vet took him away.
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REACTION

My mum woke me at noon to give me the sad news. She was crying. I have no idea how she could have watched this. She was very, very brave. The vet and Benji had gone by this time. Confusion and numbness were the emotions I felt, but I didn't cry. If I had been present when Benji died, I almost certainly would have.

Benji had gone missing before of course, but this time it was forever. Like my dad, I was dazed when told he had inoperable Cancer, but this was different. At least we still had him in early October 1994.

We left his basket empty for the rest of that day in respect. My dad got in from work to be told the sad news. He was there when Benji was handed his death warrant, but I don't think he expected that Benji was going to so quickly either. He was very upset as well. I remember him saying that night that Benji was gentle, and two days after Benji died, my dad said, referring to a photo of Benji, "Look at that Dog". The week after Benji died, my dad had two dreams about Benji.

An hour after Benji was taken away, I went out on a long walk alone. My mum was upstairs crying. I had to get out of the house. I couldn't stand to look at his empty basket. All I wanted that afternoon was to be alone. I didn't want to see or speak to anyone. I was devastated, not sad. Two days later I felt the tears well up in my eyes, but I fought them back. A piece of me died that morning.

The following three months after Benji's passing, I was shell-shocked. I couldn't believe that what had happened had actually taken place. I half expected that it had been some terrible nightmare and that he would appear at the garden gate one morning.

He never would. Benji had gone forever. There would be no more con-tricks over food. No boiled ham at my grandmother's house. No more jumping up at me when I got in. No more Benji welcoming me. No more understanding me when nobody else did. No more long walks. No more hugs. No more rubbing his chest. No more Benji looking at his lead indicating he wanted a walk or looking at the door wanting to go out. No more barking at strangers. No more him licking my face.

Christmas 1994 wasn't a white Christmas for me. It was a black one. As far as I was concerned, it may as well have not happened. I don't want to tempt fate, but so far it ranks as the worst Christmas of my life.
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When my mum was in Doncaster three months later, she saw a dog that was the double of Benji. He was, according to my mum, a Benji clone, and she found this very difficult to deal with. We never saw a dog that looked like him when he was alive. Perhaps the Dog was one of Benji's siblings.

Despite the grief over his passing and my regrets over what I did and did not do in his final months, and my deep anger and bitterness over his ashes, my memories of Benji are happy ones. I don't let those clouds block out the sunshine that Benji and his life brought.