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BEN.... or if he was in trouble Benjamin.
Ben, my first Airedale, came to us at the tender age of 8 weeks old. He was a little rascal who loved to play and chew.
Sadly when he was 10 months old he broke one of his hind legs. He jumped and landed awkwardly. He had a clean break and a spiral fracture of the Metatarsus.
He had to undergo an operation to pin and plate the bone together. I was given instructions he was not to jump or run and he had to be restricted. So out came the play pen and he lived in that for 8 weeks with regular trips to the garden. I had to carry him in and out of the house, he was a lump!
Every other day I had to take him to the Vets to have his dressing changed. This was fine if the nurse organised his dressing. However, if the Vet decided to apply the new bandage it never lasted the journey home. The little monkey would nibble away at it and it would be in tatters by the time we arrived home.
He recovered well from his operation and it was only when he reached the age of 10 that he started to become arthritic. A daily dose of Metacam made him comfortable and he continued to enjoy steady walks.
Ben eventually calmed down when he reached his 7th birthday. He was showing an extraordinary gentleness to people and I decided to enrol him as a PAT dog. He passed all the tests with flying colours and we were invited to visit the local day centre for the elderly.
On my first visit I must admit I was a little nervous as I was not really sure what was expected of me or Ben but the staff at the centre were lovely people and gave me a cup of tea and had a bowl of water ready for Ben.
Now they had not realised the length of Ben's beard and the amount of water it could retain!! He very kindly dripped water over a lot of feet and the floor. Some of the elderly folk laughed and it proved to be the turning point for many of them!
The majority of these elderly people were uncommunicative and just sat in their chairs all day long not saying a word. Many of them started to talk to me about pets they had owned when they were young while they stroked Ben. Then they started to talk to each other! Every Thursday morning at 10am we would go to the centre and it was absolutely brilliant to see smiling faces all keen to give Ben a stroke.
I heard the same stories every week but to see faces light up as he entered the room was fantastic.
One memorable day Ben actually reduced the staff to tears...... A gentleman called Fred who was wheechair bound due to a severe stoke had been nervous of Ben at first. The cold wet nose on his hand used to make him flinch but over the months he grew accustomed to Ben and we would gently place his hand on Ben's back so he could feel his fur.
On this particular day Fred looked at me and very hoarsely said "Ben". That was the first word he had spoken in over 2 years. The staff had never thought he would speak again. I was so proud of Ben for just being such a good and patient boy standing there with his head in Fred's lap for so many months. He achieved a small miracle that nobody ever expectd.
Ben continued to be a PAT dog until he was 11 years old. I felt he had earnt his retirement and I was watchful of his arthritic leg.
He died just after his 14th birthday and is resting peacefully under the apple tree at the end of my garden; it had always been his favourite spot in the shade.
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Molly, Taffy and Monty
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