Sylvia's Diary 31-08-24

Do you know that feeling when you are so tired you know if you fall to sleep someone will find you, mouth open and dribbling, asleep and comatose?  Well that’s me now! Even to smile is an effort. The build up to going to Ireland and picking up the dogs is so draining both mentally and physically. Not only do vans have to be checked, made up ready for the dogs and maintenance wise checked but the paperwork must be double, tripled and quadrupled checked. This is because dogs are given the rabies vaccine 3 weeks and longer before you collect them and things change.

I have never forgotten a dog but that’s because of my paranoia about the pickups but I am human too and if on the day you have a migraine, terrible worries or have lost your glasses, it makes no difference everything has to run smoothly. Others are involved, others with lives and worries, just like me but if one of us in the chain of people involved messes up the dog cannot come so I check and check and check and it's draining.

The week before going I get a migraine, we call it an ”Irish migraine“. This has happened the last 7 years or so - Always. This time there were over 70 dogs paperwork to check and one slip is all it takes for the dogs not to come.  Each dog has a chip number of 15 digits, a date of birth (yet more digits) and every bit of paperwork must be checked.  No numbers can accidentally be written round the wrong way, everything MUST be perfect. The worry is mind blowing, the responsibility extreme, the consequences if wrong unbearable. 

My backs been so painful that the whole trip just felt like torture. So why put myself through that each month you may ask? Well come and walk round, come and see who came back on the trip with me Joyce and Steph and tell me you would not make the effort.  The dogs are simply WONDERFUL.  Each with their own personalities, fears and worries for us to conquer. It’s a real privilege to have the chance to change their lives. 

The worst thing is all this worry time and paranoia is only for bureaucracy, as this is all for one of those laws that is RUBBISH. You see it is only because of a law that no one is challenging that makes every dog from Southern Ireland have a passport or similar paperwork, costing the UK millions each year for customs checks and all that goes with it. Look it up yourself, Southern Ireland’s been free of rabies since 1903 and England since 1922.  When I started taking Southern Irish dogs there were no passports needed but the EU changed this and it never changed back. Now taxpayers money goes on troops of customs animal welfare etc employees to check, prosecute and in some cases take to court and jail people.

I cannot take time off as the next day is the day all the dogs have to see the vet and get wormed etc. It’s a busy day that needs careful organising, so the vet is not left standing around. Everyone worked so well together and the dogs kept us all cheerful.

The lovely Cypriot dogs are still waiting to be saved. With your help we have the funds for two of the ten. I had hoped for more and I know in Cyprus they are fundraising too but we will just pray for a miracle. The beautiful cavalier pups are still with us and it won't be long till they can see a specialist to see if their broken hearts can be mended. The thought of raising the money for all that is also a worry but I have plans.

Amarette came into our lives. The dog warden called her into the rescue and Chelsea, one of the yard managers said yes we would take her. She was going to be put to sleep at the pound as no one wanted her. She came in scared in a real state and itchy. Yet another Frenchie with allergies, terrible conformation and little hope. However, despite looking like a miniature hippo or little grey piglet, her wonderful personality and character completely outshines her terrible appearance. I felt so sorry for her every morning that after my early morning chores, I took her into the front reception to do paperwork with me. What a distraction!!! I gave her a tennis ball and she played and still does play with it, endlessly rolling the ball and catching it with her front paws, picking it up again and shaking it and it slips from her mouth and the game starts all over again. Her skin is settling on a raw diet and her life is being changed around. No matter how tired I am, she makes me smile and even laugh. She has been my tonic this week.

Two of our long-term fosterers have died this week, Wendy West and Joyce Wishart will be missed.  Both wonderful senior ladies with a great love of dogs.

Jenna and her partner  took donated bric-a-brac and goods to a boot sale and raised over £400. It was a splendid effort especially as the first day they were rained out.  If everyone did one boot sale a year, we maybe could squeak through this year that’s going so badly.  However people's lives are busy and not everyone has the passion I do and us all being different makes the word go around. People look at our accounts and say why do you need more money, well with wages of over £120,000 a month for the 75 plus staff you may understand.  We have that many staff as our dogs need that special care, we don’t pay huge wages but do have huge responsibilities on our shoulders.

Yesterday as I walked out the front gates a lady and her husband unloaded dog food, beds and useful things. The man was quiet and the lady was desperately trying to be tough and not cry. She took me to one side and burst into tears. She told me how she had just lost their dog and I told her I had too. We sat on the bench both sobbing. I had had my boy's ashes back that morning and could not wait for the day to finish and everyone to leave so I could let his ashes go and say goodbye forever. The lady thanked me for 6 wonderful years with her dog. Neither of us could settle so we went for a short walk to see our wonderful play yard and calm down.  Me not wanting the staff to see me broken down and her, her husband. When we got back we pulled ourselves together and calmed down.  

Grief and regrets go on for years.  In fact for me forever but helping others both animal and human and the pressure of the work and not to let anyone down keeps me going, but the long nights are just terrible.  Many of you knew my boy, hand raised and loved so much.  He kept me sane and saved me.  He walked with me on my sponsored walks, lay by my side for 14 years and as named was my “Light”.

Thank you for reading my diary, supporting and being there to help us all get through even the darkest hours. 
Sylvia