David Baddock

How Bad Do You Want It from Greyskale Multimedia LLC on Vimeo.

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Last week my family made the tough decision that most pet owners have to go through at some point. We had to have our family dog put to sleep.

Ripley, our white Labrador Retriever, was getting on in years and had been slowly sufferring from arthritis in his hips and hind legs, as most dogs of a similar breed do. He lasted a good 14 years; an accomplishment given the life expectancy is between 10 and 12 years.

I had been expecting the phone call from Dad for a number of months, but all that mental preparation and extra pats over time was never going to do enough to prepare me for that phone call. The quiver in Dad's voice. The phone call from my Sister in an unconsolable state. It all comes tumbling down on you in one fell swoop.

It's funny how close you grow to a pet. They truly become one of your family. The uncanny thing I've always believed about dogs is that the longer they spend growing part of a family, the closer the two-way emotional attachment becomes, and the more in-tune the pet becomes with your families feelings and emotions.

When you're sad, they know.

When you're joyous, they know.

Finally, when you're saying goodbye for the last time and they're heading off on a one way journey from which they won't return, I believe they know.

I wasn't present last week when Dad finally did place Ripley in the back of the car to take him up to the vet, but I was there when this happened to our first family dog, Timmy - a Border Collie cross Kelpie, whom I received as a gift on my very first Birthday. Timmy was with us until late in to my high school years. It's not often a dog will last well in to their late teens (in human years, of course), but Timmy lasted until the age of 17. A first-class innings.

That moment was one I'll never forget.

I just couldn't bring myself to say goodbye and walk away from the back of the car. Timmy had watched me grow up. He'd watch me grow from being smaller than him and crawling around, to towering of him as he grow in to old age. When I fell over in the driveway and scraped my knee, he was the first one there to see if I was ok. I too, watched him change. He went from the spritely, young and athletic creature into a grey, withering old dog.

I liken the emotion I experienced when losing the family pets, to losing grandparents. I don't know if that's a poor reflection on me or a perfect summation of the role a pet plays in a family, but I would never give up the amazing relationship I've shared with the two dogs over my 26 year journey to avoid the 2 days of sadness. And I will gladly go through that trememdously loving and affectionate relationship with a dog in future.

R.I.P Timmy & Ripley.

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Frank Chimero writes:

Writing 140 characters is difficult if one is trying to say something with poignancy. It’s hard to tell the truth in a tiny box, because the truth is so big and round and gray.

During the process of constructing my first (real) post for this blog, I stumbled across the question of exactly what it was which ruined, or at least sabotaged my writing skills. Twitter, and even SMS messaging could certainly be a factor in this. We're almost trained to think that our message needs to be communicated in a short & sharp manner. However, there are a category of thoughts which require somewhat of a deeper exploration.

This thought process is supported:

One can’t go too deep in a stunted format. But still, it kind of feels like writing because my fingers are flying, there is that sound of the keyboard, that row of letters getting longer, that momentum of the cursor pushing right. But, it’s not the same as lengthier writing, because it doesn’t necessarily take us anywhere.

Finally, we are left with the simple instruction of:

Go write.

That, I shall.

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I don't know whether it's because of poor education or simply those damn interwebs having fried my brain, but my writing isn't up to scratch. Not that it's something I would have picked up myself, it's feedback I'm getting from those in higher places, let's call them, actually, it's not important.

I struggled for some time to understand what they were talking about when referring to my writing (and soft-skills in general) needing some minor improvement. It wasn't until I received some examples of what they meant till the penny dropped. 1 example stands out and will be the one I refer to over time.

The use of the word "care" vs "mind".

For some reason I tend to use the former when someone asks me of my opinion about an issue. The response would typically be, "I don't care". Those who know me, know that I actually care quite a bit. I'm not careless. I don't like putting others down. I do care. If it's a subject I'm not particularly concerned about or know that me making a decision falling in column A or column B, then in actually fact, I don't mind.

So i'm hereby embarking on a very small, yet very important task of self-improvement. If I can slowly but surely get out of the habit of saying.

That takes care of one soft skill.

There's the bigger issue of writing, as I mentioned. There's a few ways I'm going to try and deal with that. Obviously, this blog is going to be one of them. But I hope to make reading another one of those. Yes, I said "hope to".

As a kid, I used to read. I mean, I used to read like a mo-fo. At some point, that changed. I have no idea why, and it's really annoying. I try to sit down and get through a book, or a magazine now, and I just can't. However, I'm working really hard to get through a book that was given to me with good reason. It's going well so far, I'm almost halfway through. I'm confident I can get through it because it's quite engaging.

I'll post a review once I'm done.

Do you care? You probably don't. I don't mind.

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