“Flynn”
Flynn had been purchased by the woman who owned him from
a breeder in Northeast Canada .
He was known as ” Lyndenhall’s Swashbuckler’s Gold”,
and went by the call name of “Flynn”.
He was purchased with the intent of using him in a breeding program.
He had a beautiful head and the laid-back personality the
woman was looking for. Unfortunately he never grew to the
desired size and would never be a breeding dog.
He would remain in a kennel for the rest of his life unless someone
would buy him and make him into a housedog.
When we met Flynn it was love at first sight. He was a dog in need of a
good home and we were a couple desperately in need of a good dog.
We were a perfect match.
The woman suggested a “test run” and we were off down the driveway with
Flynn keeping pace alongside us looking up every now and then
with his huge brown eyes making sure he was doing all the
right things to win our approval.
I couldn’t write the check fast enough and with the stroke of a pen
we became the proud parents of a 2 ½ year old Labrador Retriever.
On his papers his color was given as “yellow” but his coat more closely
resembled the color of a pearl shining iridescently when he
lay in the sun which he loved to do.
Flynn was the calmest quietest dog I’ve ever known. We could probably
count on one hand the number of times he actually barked in all the years he
was with us except when he was deep asleep and dreaming.
The he became a brave noble watchdog baring his teeth and growling
or running after some “faceless intruder,” barking out his warning.
Flynn tolerated all of my eccentricities and they were many.
I’m sure he was more that a little embarrassed when I put sunglasses
a silk scarf and the seat belt on him and we rode around in my Jeep
with the top down. Or when I bought him a pink feathered mask
for Halloween and we went through the drive in window at the bank.
The teller saw this big white dog sitting strapped into the seat with
the belt and the ridiculous pink thing parked on his face and she ran
and got the bank manager who insisted we come inside so she
could take Flynn’s picture. He got an extra cookie for that performance.
Flynn wore reindeer antlers on Christmas or angel wings and
a halo depending on my mood at the time. All the while he never
complained or tried to shake off his “get-ups” but rather played
right along enjoying all the extra attention such antics generated.
Flynn dutifully climbed our circular stairs every evening so that he
could be near us as we slept. He didn’t like the stairs because of
their openness. But rather than miss being with us he endured the climb.
We began to notice in January of 1996 that it was becoming increasingly
more difficult for Flynn to make the climb.
We realized how all of a sudden he was aging quickly and we began
fearing the worst. When Flynn came into our lives we made a pact that
he would not be allowed to suffer any pain nor would he be a guinea pig
to test different treatments on. When we discovered that he had cancer
along with his arthritis. I asked my vet to promise me that when she felt
there was nothing more we could humanely do to keep him comfortable,
she would let me know. When we made a last-ditch effort to stop the
inevitable and it failed we knew the time had come.
There was only one more choice to make to keep our beloved
boy from suffering. How odd it seemed that the last day of his life
should be a beautiful sun-filled day.
We should have been enjoying the day instead of preparing to
day goodbye to our devoted loving dog.
Flynn was no longer able to walk or even stand on his own,
so my Husband carried him into the clinic and laid him on the examing
table on his soft old blanket that I had brought along with us.
We both held on to Flynn. Mac held his sick body and I held his head.
Thankfully the end came quickly. His breathing became increasingly
shallower until it ceased altogether. We had talked to him constantly
through the procedure telling him how much we loved him and
would miss him and that we would wee him again someday.
I found some comfort in knowing that the last thing he felt were our
arms around him and the last sound he heard was our voice.
Afterwards I lay his noble white head on his paws and closed the
beautiful brown eyes that had looked to me so often for approval.
He is greatly missed and there is a void in our hearts that
will never be filled.
God speed Flynn.