Benji

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INTRODUCTION

I designed this eulogy to remember Benji, but also to put right a long-standing wrong. After his
sudden and early death at the end of 1994, Benji was cremated, but I was so stunned by his passing
that I didn't think to ask for his ashes, and as a result, he was not given any kind of memorial.

As Benji died nine days before Christmas, neither me, my mum or dad were allowed to mourn, and his
passing was brushed aside, along with his memory. Benji's passing would have had more of an impact
had it happened, say, six months earlier or six months later. He deserved better than that. He never
got a memorial of any kind when he died. Well, I intend to see that he gets one now.
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DELAYED GRIEF

I expected to be emotionally moved before I wrote this eulogy, but even I was surprised by how
powerful those feelings were about Benji. By nature, I am not an emotional or sentimental person. I
don't mentally live in the past either, but my feelings regarding Benji finally were released in
November 2008, after being pent-up, suppressed and bottled up for so long.

Whilst I was a few lines into writing the fourth paragraph of this eulogy, I suddenly said in an
emotional voice, "Oh f**k". I then got up and went to the bathroom, where I locked myself in. Whilst
in the bathroom, I cried heavily for 10 minutes before I was able to continue. I then burst into
tears for a second time, and then I cried heavily when I finished the eulogy, for another 10
minutes. I also burst into tears the following day for about five minutes, but I haven't cried since
over Benji.

This outpouring of emotion was caused by several factors. One was because I thought of Benji and how
I still miss him, even now, after all this time. I cried because he was suddenly cut down and taken
away, from a life he loved, when he had much more to give, and so many more years to live. Benji,
like his family, was cheated.

I cried because of when I tormented him on occasion when he was young. I wish I hadn't done it
because he was the best friend I have ever had. I cried because we never got his ashes, and couldn't
scatter them in the garden, and more than anything, I cried because of anger and disgust at my
behaviour when Benji passed away. I tried to exude a phoney bonhomie, when inwardly I was crushed.

This was the first time, for more than 20 years, that I have shed tears over anything, so it proves
how close me and Benji had become, and how special Benji was. I can't remember the last time I cried
so heavily.

This memorial also means that Benji has finally been mourned, and means that I can now move on, as I
must, and life goes on, as it must, but that doesn't mean Benji has been forgotten. He hasn't been,
and never will be.
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BENJI

Benji was a crossbreed type of dog. Neither his parents or siblings will be alive now. What counts
is their personality and temperament, and Benji's was of the highest order. You couldn't have wished
for a nicer dog, and I am not just saying that because he was mine. If he had been vicious or nasty,
I would have wrote that.

My mum got Benji from a pet shop that is no longer there, on Monday 21st March 1988. I never asked
what breed of dog he was, but I asked how old he was. My mum said, "The pet shop owner told me he
was born on the 28th January this year".

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, although I
remember once when he was about three or four, my mum saying, in a soft gentle voice, whilst he was
in the garden, "Come on Beng".

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. My mum got up
every night, and my dad consoled him, as back then he got up every morning at 4am for work. Benji
was obviously was pining for his mother and siblings, and also distressed because he had been taken
to a strange place alone. I remember my mum saying to him, "You are ok Benji, you've got us now".
After the first week though, he was fine, and never whined 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's character was faithful and friendly. He was a
fun loving, sweet, affectionate 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. 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, as he would have gone for them. 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. Shep was my dad's younger sister's dog and was eight weeks older than Benji. It was Benji's
first ever sight of the sea, and he barked at it! He didn't like the sea one bit. Benji and Shep
went into the back of the car together. When we stopped halfway there, Benji was literally sick,
though he wasn't on the return journey home. Benji and Shep always got on well, and I can't ever
recall a fight between them.

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!

Apart from his family, in the dog world, Shep, or Stella, a female whippet owned by the Clough's
next door, were Benji's closest friends. In the Autumn of 1989 Benji and Shep were taken once a week
to dog obedience classes, but at times, neither of them complied!

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 Benji had a fear of balloons, 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! I dread to think what
Benji's reaction would have been had Westlife been around at the time and we had played him their
songs!

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 September 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 a 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, born in September 1987, 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, myself and 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 Sunday 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 two years 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. On Friday 27th August 1993, we visited the remains at Monk
Bretton Priory. We caught the bus and had a walk around. On 18th September 1993, Benji and I had a
walk around Worsbrough Mill County Park.
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1994

On Saturday 1st January 1994 I took Benji on a walk to my Grandmothers. I had no idea then, that
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.

One night in March 1994, my mum and dad had an argument. Benji was laid in his basket in the
kitchen. He heard them, and suddenly came into the living room and started playing with his squeaky
toy when they arguing, to distract them! I remember my mum saying "That dog hasn't got a vicious
streak in him". He now had, unknown to us at the time, nine months left to live.

From February 1993 to October 1994, Benji and me also went on walks to Hoyle Mill, near the Dearne
Valley walkway. There is a small, grassy hill there. I also twice took him on a walk further than
Hoyle Mill hill. Nearby is a coalmine that closed in 1992. We visited there at Easter 1994.

On 10th April 1994 my dad's sister or Shep's owner, 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 during the next
seven months. However, I still wouldn't have trusted him to be alone with my cousin. In fact, I
wouldn't trust ANY dog, no matter what their breed or temperament, to be alone with a baby.

Hoyle Mill on 12th June 1994 was an 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. ________________________________________________
BENJI'S FINAL SUMMER.........

When we had to take Benji to the vet, he was always terrified. He jumped up into my mum or dads
arms, and was always happy when we left.

On Friday 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 and fitness levels were
akin to those of a dog half his age. The vet told my mum that he would see her and Benji 12 months
later, when Benji 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 was to be the case, Benji would perhaps be run over and killed in
December 1994. In June, July and August 1994, Benji was serenely cruising along in calm, clear,
blue, mid-life waters and under cloudless, blue skies, but what we couldn't see was the very dark
storm clouds slowly approaching us.
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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 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 the middle of 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. Benji was terrified that afternoon, not because of the lump, but of the
vets. 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. For some
reason, Benji wasn't scared that day, as he usually was. The vet told my dad that the tests and
biopsy showed that the lump on Benji's right hand side was a Cancerous tumour, as I had feared. 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 wouldn't be able to operate on Benji, and effectively sentenced him to death.

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.

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?".

Whilst I had my suspicions that the lump was Cancerous, I didn't expect this news and I thought a
big operation would have to be involved, but that there would be an eventual recovery for Benji. It
all seemed unreal, but 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
however.
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BENJI'S LIFE AFTER THE DIAGNOSIS

On the afternoon of Thursday 6th October 1994, I took Benji went on a walk to the Carlton Road
Quarry and Dearne Valley Walkway. Two days after that, he walked around the two fields at Monk
Bretton, and the following day, Sunday 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 week or a year left to live.

During October and November 1994, despite the evil thing which had made its uninvited, unwanted and
unwelcome presence on his body, both Benji and his life were exactly the same as before. Benji's
life still consisted of two daily dinners, a walk, a sleep and spells in the garden if the weather
was fine, playing with his ball, squeaky toy or a bone.

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 the afternoon of 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 take 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 the
afternoon of 26th November, I took him for a walk around both fields at Monk Bretton, for the last
ever time. Our final long walk together took place on the night of Sunday 27th November 1994, when
we went to Carlton Road Quarry and then the first field at Monk Bretton.

We entered December, but there was still no sign of any deterioration in Benji's health, despite the
tumour's unchecked and untreated growth. 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 visit my Grandmother's house. My mum expected to take Benji
there the following Friday. It wasn't to be.

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 tea-time 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, and the first signs of decline, Benji's health remained stable
during the next seven days, and he went for a walk to the first field most evenings that week, but
wasn't able to go to my Grandmothers on the Friday, 9th December.

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 on the 28th January 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.
_____________________________________________________
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 have
done so.

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.

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.
______________________________________________________
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 doing 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 died, and will forever be 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! 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 without any difficulty.
If another dog had come, he might have pretended to be deaf and walked away! That morning, he
sniffed around in peace, wagging his tail, just as curious about his surroundings as on the very
first day we 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. He had treated Benji since he was a puppy. 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?". If I saw the vet today, I might ask him why he didn't put Benji on chemotherapy tablets to
try to shrink the tumour, if it was inoperable.

The vet told my mum that Benji could well 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.

There was something symbolic in this, like the Stocksbridge trip. Benji ran to my mum when he was a
puppy of almost eight-weeks old. This was why she chose him. The other puppy which was left in the
litter ran away from my mum.

Now, whilst Benji was laid in his basket, 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 like I did, 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.
______________________________________________________
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. I hugged her. 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.

Benji was cremated later that afternoon. We never got his ashes because it was a mass cremation.
Because nobody could think clearly, we didn't request an individual cremation. I still feel bitter
about this.

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. I walked through Carlton
Road Quarry and the Dearne Valley Walkway. All I wanted that afternoon was to be alone. I didn't
want to see or speak to anyone.

Two days after Benji was taken away, I was out, and I felt the tears well up in my eyes, but I
fought them back.

The following fortnight after Benji's passing, I was shell-shocked. I couldn't believe that what had
happened had actually taken place. Benji had gone out of our lives forever, and we would never get
him back. 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. Benji had gone missing before of course, but he either came
back, or we found him. Now he was gone forever.

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.
___________________________________________________

When my mum was in Doncaster on 4th March 1995, 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.

Still miss you Benji, even after all this time.