Azra's story

The road has been long for Azra. First bred to be used by the forces in Serbia, to put her life on the line, to protect her handler. After seven years’ full service to then be thrown onto the streets. She has three old microchips in from previous owners, who then threw her back outside. Not one of them were held accountable for their actions. Over three years surviving on the streets, an old girl, half blind, completely deaf through neglect and trauma, missing nearly all her teeth, found her way to the public shelter, where she came to our attention.

She arrived at our sanctuary three years ago. Bald from skin mites, severely underweight and exhausted. We thought she would be with us in the hospice for a few months of TLC before she passed away. How time has flown by with darling Azra. Mostly sleeping, but loving and gentle. Never aggressive to any human or animal and she has seen many come and go. She has been licked by Jack the calf, sat on by Blake pigeon, had Pip and Silver hares fall asleep on her. Lilly lamb ran to her for protection, nestled up with Phoebe pig and played nanny to orphaned chicks. She is the heart of our sanctuary and encompasses all we believe in. Nurture with care, pause for thought, love with abandon and protect all that is dear.

But, our friend is slowing down. We walk beside her each step along her final journey. We cherish each moment and breath she shares with us, our dear snaggle-toothed friend. Wynnie crept down the first night Azra was home, we found her snuggled against her warm belly in the morning, they have been dear companions ever since. She knows Azzie is nearing the end of her journey; she slips further along her silvery road. We watch her closely now to see if she is still breathing when she sleeps. We hold her close and let her know she is loved and cherished, our only regret, we didn’t meet her sooner and have more time. We take it in turns now to sleep with her through the night, as we do for all the garden folk, if their time is nearing. It matters not to us if the outside world considers them farm animals or companions, for they all look for us at the end. They all want comfort and company, they all need their family and friends, they all need to feel safe. Treat others as you would wish to be treated, I would not wish to die alone.

At Azra’s appointment with the vet it is as I feared, during the niggling dark hours. Her fast spiral downwards has been accompanied by cancer. The hidden shadow, that made her age so quickly in one week, that took her off her feet. A small patch of hairless skin on her belly, that I have been watching with fear, turned into a swelling. I didn’t want to say or write anything out loud, hoping in my silly way not to encourage anyone to think of it, not to add any energy to the growing shadow. Sitting in the clinic, smelling the stomach churning mix of weak disinfectant and illness, I listened to lots of French words that didn’t really join up into anything. All I concentrated on was Azra and Wynnie, watching how they breathed together, watching how they loved. Letting the words tumble over me like a shawl made of ice. My mind focused on the vile word ‘metastasis’, while my eyes lingered on the friends on the floor. I knew a decision had to be made, but I wanted to hide and be small. My wonderful nan, had this shadow, I felt the loss of her again, acutely intertwined with the moment.

If it has moved into her lungs then we say goodbye was my mantra while waiting for her Xray results. I know what to do, I know who she needs me to be. Wynnie sat on my lap, fat tears rolling down her soft cheeks. “I don't want Azzie to go, but I know how to be a good friend”, she said, while putting her earmuffs on straight. Her earmuffs that are not weather dependent, but mood associated. If she feels sad, or unwell, or if the humans around her have talked about eating her friends. She is Azra’s friend, today was definitely an earmuff day. There were 27 bottles on the top shelf in the cupboard, 3 different hand washes, 95 tiles on the floor that I could see... The wait seemed to stretch before me like a living thing, capricious yet unfeeling. I could hear the click of Azzie’s nails on the unforgiving floor. Had the wait been long because her lungs were riddled? Or long because they were double checking? The games we play in our minds are all the same.

The vet appears, I try to decipher what her smile was saying, looking into her eyes, is it bad news or really bad news?.... her smile watery, “her lungs are clear”. The tightrope between actions pings harder, the consequences, the responsibility, the weight. Knowing a tumour such as this may return in two months or in two years after removal. Knowing she is an old doggy and may not survive the operation. Knowing that age shouldn’t matter. I have elderly friends and family, would they be denied the chance for another year of life? No. So that is how we chose. She is pain free, if she passes under anaesthetic then that is peaceful. If she has extra moments and the will to reach out with her ginger hand and want to touch Wynnie then that’s as it should be. The vet has said she may regain her normal movement once the lump is removed. She will not know until she tries.

We have had vets in the past that told us Duchess our cow was meat on legs, to send her off, she would never walk. But we persevered, Duchess persevered, she walked. We have had the same said about Brynn sheep, Blossom pig.. They all move around now. We already have a wheelchair ready for Azra, if she wants it. Her operation was booked for Monday 9 am. I think Azra voted when she tried to run out of vets. The weekend was long, we had no way of knowing if she would make it to Monday. But if she didn't, then that’s as it should be. Whatever she decides to try, we will give her the option and when she doesn’t want to try, then I will step forward again instead of walking at her side. Are we making the right choice? Well that changes moment by moment, while she breathes rhythmically and her heart pounds, while she studies me with her inky dark eyes, and laps her water and snoozes in the sun, then that is as it should be. I will never let her suffer, but it’s up to her how she wants her life to be. Her quality of life has always been sleeping, eating and cuddles, so if she comes through the operation, then that won't change ...

Our old girl had her operation on a rather long and probably bizarre day for her. She came home on most painkillers the vet could throw at her. The lump removed has made the wound very tight due to lack of skin. She chomped through her last Wymsie and two marmite and tomato sandwiches. Wynnie has given her magical teddy that does the rounds to all that are poorly. Azra has drooled quite a lot on him, so he is sticking in place quite well. We turned her every two hours and bathed her operation site in silver every time we turn her. She was drinking well, but she only fancied her chia bones. Wynnie sleeps with her every night, and will not be tempted away for someone else to take a turn.

When those you love are hurting, it is always important to give unconditional love. To listen with an open heart, to give time. Gwynnevere has slept beside Azra now for four nights, she doesn’t care about anything apart from giving her friend support. I wish that I could bottle up her kindness and sprinkle it around the world like fairy dust. I look to her for guidance as she is just; she is logic wrapped in love. She follows me when she feels mummy is sad, she sits and holds my hand. We can talk about feelings with a laugh and with reverence. So gentle, so kind. We try to shield the children from the intolerance directed at us, but they seem wise beyond their years. Tiny humans raised to be compassionate to all. Their love, vulnerability, and strength shine in a glistening bubble. How to protect them in this human, inhumane world?

She has spent an hour reading and singing to Azra. She said “I know she's deaf, but she can feel my heart”. I hope one day all will feel hearts and wrap their thoughts in love. Then nobody will die alone or afraid. No distinction will be made between pets and farmed animals, for farming souls will be considered incorrect. Numbering folk that are different and treating them as things, will be frowned upon and no longer tolerated. I hope that Azra will make it through her operation and have joy again. The funds have been raised by generous donors, who hold our hands from afar. We are infinitely grateful for your kindness. We wrap you in our love and sprinkle you with Wynnie dust so that when you face challenges, you know you too are loved from afar.

If you would like to donate to help BigV Care for Azra, or any other residents, please visit our donations page or use our PayPal link bigvsanctuary@outlook.com