Bea's Story

Reprinted with permission from Beth Davies

For months I struggled with this article. Finally, I decided to be straightforward. This is a plea. Plain and simple.

I am on my knees begging each one of us who has responsibility for a Cavalier; please do not let even one Cavalier fall into unscrupulous hands as my dear rescue, Bea, apparently did.

This is her story.

The call came from an all breed rescue group. They had a 10 -year-old un-spayed Cavalier with a grade 4-heart murmur and other multiple health problems. As a result the group’s veterinarian would not attempt to spay the dog, which meant they could not place her for adoption at a local pet food store as they would normally. There was just one other piece of information. She was turned over to the all breed rescue group by a breeder who gave as a reason: she was no longer "producing." And then the question. would CKCSC rescue take her? Of course.

We met on the cement floor of the cavernous store. Bea was barely recognizable as a black and tan. She was shaved head to ears to toes. What little stubble she had was dry and flaking. And on her tail she did not have even stubble. Like a rat’s, it was completely hairless. Her right eye was blinded, from an untreated injury. Her rear end and back legs were atrophied, limiting her movement and she stood at a tilt (from an arthritic hip). Her belly was stretched and scarred (from caesarians?), almost dragging the floor.

But here is the most remarkable thing. She fell into my arms, kissed me and non-stop wagged her hairless tail. She had the sweetest disposition of any Cavalier I have ever known. She didn’t know or didn’t care that she was broken in body and didn’t look like a Cavalier. She only knew that in her soul she was one. I called her my dear sweet one.

We were together ten months. She received excellent veterinarian care, from heart and eye specialists at the University of Minnesota and our family veterinarian. She survived spaying and dental work (her teeth were so bad that many simply fell out before they could be pulled). Her temperament never wavered. She especially enjoyed the gaggle of veterinarian students who made quite a fuss over her and marveled at her good nature. The consensus often stated was, "She has every reason to be crotchety, but she’s as sweet and good-natured as she can be."

She adapted immediately to family life with my husband, our two Cavaliers and me. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t try. At first she could not walk more than a few feet, or climb even one step of stairs, or jump onto the sofa. But she gave it her all and after several months she could walk up a full flight of stairs (not just one or two), gamely go for long walks and jump onto the sofa at will. Once on the sofa she never tired of being held, and to show her delight she purred and cooed.

She also loved "Camp Sandy." During a family illness, Bea stayed with Sandy Kusilek, Tapestry Cavaliers. Sandy took it upon herself to work on Bea ‘s coat and movement. I was astounded when I picked her up. Her coat was smooth and richly colored (still no tail hair). She was in great shape and moving well (was that a top line I detected?). Even though she still stood at a tilt, her championship lines shone through. She seemed to say; "I was a beautiful girl once." I reassured her. "You were always beautiful to me."

And then suddenly she was ill and failing rapidly. I did not want to believe my eyes. She could not eat or walk, but amazingly, after I would carry her outside, she still would try to climb the step to the deck, always wanting to please, before I quickly could pick her up and carry her in. I took her to our veterinarian who saw she was dying. He ran a blood panel. All systems were failing and she was suffering. I could see then that it was so. I held her in my arms and that is how she went. I told her loved her, that she had been a brave girl, gay and fearless to the end and I thanked her for the joy she had given me.

Yet, questions remain. How did Bea make her way to the cement floor of a pet food store! How is that she did not receive proper medical care and was discarded as a "non-producer?" She may have changed hands many times, each person believing she was going to a safe and caring place, but each person nonetheless making small errors of judgment. Or, from the beginning she may have gone, unwittingly or not, to a wholesale breeder who ditched her when she no longer turned a profit. We’ll never know. All we can know is that we can and will renew our determination as a club and as individuals to act always in small and large ways to not let even one more Cavalier full into unscrupulous hands as Bea apparently did.

Rest in peace my dear sweet one.