Judd
This is my dog Judd.
My mum bought him for me when I was about 12 as I had been a bit unwell, she thought he would cheer me up. Judd is a pedigree toy poodle however he was so confident when my mum went to pick him up as a puppy he bolstered right on over to her whilst his brothers and sisters shied away from her. Judd grew so big that the vet was sure he was a small miniature poodle!
We named him Judd because my mums Jack Russell Terrier when she was a little girl was called Judy – as small kids we romanticized Judy as we had never met her – she had died when my mum was young without kids. We (me, my brother and sister) always said if we ever got a dog we’d call it Judy but Judd came along and was a boy. Breakfast Club (the film) had just come out also and my ‘rebellious’ brother reckoned we called him Judd after the actor Judd Nelson, so everyone was happy.
More of a family dog than my own. We all love him. After an acrimonious divorce of my parents Judd went to live with my Dad. My dad was a salesman and took Judd everywhere with him in the car and I got him at weekends, my mum saw him occasionally but I had to mediate those visits. Judd didn’t go to live with my mum as she bought a tiny flat that couldn’t house dogs.
So I was 19 when they got divorced. Ella was born when I was 24 and I lived with my wife and Ella in a nice flat in North East London. My dad called me up one day and said Judd was not too well, off his food and when he was taken for walks just lay down after a few hundred yards. Dad felt Judd was getting on and was considering getting him put down (I prefer to called it ‘killed’ – but thats the phrase you tell your kids isn’t it?) I said no way.
Of course we had to decide this big decision as a family. I was like Kofi Annan that week, I swear I could have got a job at the UN after the diplomacy that pulled off getting my Mum and Dad, my sister Georgina and me in the same room – our DNA creates a chemical reaction if we are all within a certain radius of each other – seriously, you could power the whole of London for 20 years if you could contain the energy.
We took Judd for a walk round the lake in Lloyd Park just down the road from my flat. Judd walked for a bit, wagging his tale running between us like a puppy each of us taking turns to walk with him but after a while he just laid down on the grass – I think we were about half way round the lake.
I scooped Judd up in to my arms and held him close, his little heart pounding against my chest. I carried him the rest of the way and talked to him. His eyes were squinting from the bright sunshine and for a few moments we were like a normal family out on a happy Sunday stroll in the Park.
We couldn’t decide what to do, Judd just seemed tired and weak but not in any sort of pain. There was no way I could accept that we would hand him over to a vet to kill.
I carried Judd to my Dads car parked a little way down the road from my flat. My sister opened the passenger door on the left side of the car near the pavement and I lifted him on to his blanket. My sister leaned in to the car to kiss him goodbye but he started to retch. I don’t want to recollect what happened in more detail but Judd died in my arms and we all got to say goodbye as a family.
The little blighter. Engineered the whole situation to get his pack together to go for a final walk and say goodbye.
Smart dogs poodles. I never cried so hard for so long in my whole life.
