Calvin

The majority of the following was drafted back in April when it was all fresh in my mind. I have found it hard to come back and finish the post but knew it needed to be written and published so I can commemorate Calvin. I have been quite detailed as it is important for me to remember Calvin’s final days. I would recommend skimming through some parts.

Perhaps one of the saddest blog posts I will ever have to write. My beautiful, gorgeous, funny, loving, mischievous, forever hungry and happy Calvin passed away on Friday 16 April at 3:24am. He was 13 years and 4 weeks old. I always knew the day would come and dreaded it for years. Still I wasn’t prepared for the speed it happened.

I’m going to be honest. A couple of weeks prior to his death it was suspected that Calvin had picked up some weed on our walk. It might have been in the foil I prised from his mouth on the way to the park or it could have been at the park itself. I only realised something was amiss when I went to give him dinner. He knocked his Kong wobbler a couple of times with his paw but then gave up. I transferred the food to a bowl which he ate very tentatively. I then went to check on him when he swayed in my arms before collapsing to the ground. At that point I thought that was it, he was gone. He had to be carried into the car and upon arriving at the vets they diagnosed his stoned condition. He spent a night in the vet hospital but seemed in good spirits on his return. I was beyond mortified yet so relieved that this wasn’t it. Little did I know it was the warm up for what was to come.

Calvin returned from hospital on Easter Saturday. On Easter Monday he couldn’t get up the stairs prior to bed. He had slipped on the stairs a little earlier in the day so I suspected he might have injured himself. Nevertheless he just kept trying, not making it further than the first step. He was getting really distressed. I came and sat with him downstairs for a while and he went to his bed in the living room. I thought he was settled but as soon as I got up to return to bed he began trying the stairs again. In the end I gave him a few treats and closed the door on him in the living room so he would stop trying.

On Tuesday night the same happened again. He couldn’t get up the stairs despite trying. This time I had a frozen Kong ready and shut him in the living room again. He was very settled in bed when I came down the following morning. On Wednesday he didn’t even attempt the stairs. however, we were missing his company and so my partner picked him up and brought him upstairs. All 38kg of him. Calvin was delighted and we continued to do this on the following nights. On Thursday I contacted the vets to make an appointment as he obviously wasn’t back to his usual self since coming back from hospital and if I knew the vets were open on Good Friday I would have already booked him in for a check-up as I was concerned about him gagging on occasion. At this point he had been doing it for around 3 weeks on and off.

We went to the vets on the Monday where the vet advised that the hospital stay must have exacerbated his arthritis and the cough was most likely due to old age. A common condition called paralysis of the larynx. His lungs seemed clear, temperature fine and bloods that had been taken whilst in hospital were clear. I was pleased that it was nothing serious. That evening he left some of his food in his Kong wobbler and walked off to get a drink. I thought he had just not realised there were a few bits of kibble left and gave him the rest. On Tuesday morning he took a split second to start eating his breakfast and in the evening he again left his Kong wobbler with some kibble inside. By this point I was worried and took him back to the vets that evening.

We saw a different vet who informed me that his lungs sounded harsh and he had a slight temperature. he had been quieter than normal in the day and seemed subdued. She booked him in for tests the following day. Bloods and chest x-ray. We took Calvin for a small trot around the fields after the appointment and he seemed to brighten up. He happily explored and did his usual nudging at my pocket for treats. I didn’t know that would be our final venture.

That night he wouldn’t settle. He was pacing, coughing and drinking lots of water. I couldn’t sleep listening to him. Around 2am I took him out for a busy. He ran into the garden and I heard he had a poorly tummy. I knew he wouldn’t be able to make it back up the stairs and so I stayed on the sofa in case he needed to go out again. He was much more settled for the rest of the night. I’m not sure why he didn’t tell me he needed a busy before, he usually communicated well with me.

On Wednesday I received the worst possible news. Cancer. The chest x-ray showed cancer in the lungs and it was likely this was secondary. A subsequent ultra sound showed cancer in his liver and spleen too. Calvin must have been living with cancer for months. Not displaying any signs, merrily getting on with and enjoying life. Again his bloods were somehow clear. I was given some medication which was hoped would liven him back up for a while. Once he was feeling a bit better we wanted to take him to some of his favourite places and have some fun. Unfortunately this didn’t happen.

When we collected him from the vets he greeted me with his usual waggy tail and I was pleased and confident that I had made the right decision to take him home and not have him put to sleep there and then. I had decided I would sleep downstairs for the foreseeable future as the new medication would increase thirst and therefore the need to spend. Calvin slept pretty well until the early hours before struggling with his cough. He had been given some bland food to help with his tummy and happily ate it for breakfast. I gave him his new medication but was advised it would take a couple of days to kick in. Calvin appeared quite lethargic through the day, I put this down to the sedation he had to have the day before for the scans. He ate his second and third meals eagerly.

I had to go out for a couple of hours in the late afternoon. Calvin was home with my partner and Riley and had mostly been sleeping. When I came home Calvin mustered up a wag for me and my partner commented that he would only wag for me now. This was around 6pm. At 8:30pm I fed Calvin his final meal. He didn’t come over to eat it. Instead I took the bowl to him and he ate it lying down. He had deteriorated so rapidly. I was hopeful the medication I gave him after the meal would help somewhat.

Not long after Calvin seemed to really struggle with his cough. It was torturous to watch. I called the out of hours vets and asked if someone could come out. They couldn’t, advising that he would need to be brought in. I didn’t particularly appreciate the receptionists tone and decided to hold off. Although Calvin wasn’t due his next medication until the morning at about 11pm I gave him it anyway. I was desperate for him to feel more comfortable and decided 16 hours between doses was adequate. Perhaps it did help a tiny bit as he seemed to fall asleep all be it lightly.

At around 1.30am he shot up and indicated that he needed a busy. I let him out in the garden and he did his business. From then on he was back to struggling with his cough and panting. I felt awful for him. So helpless. Just after 2am I couldn’t bear watching him suffer any longer. I really wanted to wait for our local vets to open at 8am but time was passing so slowly. My partner asked me what I wanted to do and I made the decision I thought I would never have the strength to make. It was time to let Calvin go. I really wish there was another way. Some medication I could give him to ease his pain and watch him slip away peacefully in his sleep. This is not how I wanted it to end.

I called the out of hours vets and advised them that we would be coming in. the next task was getting Calvin in the car. My partner put the quilt in the boot so he would be comfortable. Thankfully Calvin was able to walk to the car but then kept moving away deciding against being lifted. So we scrapped that idea and I managed to lure him into the front footwell with me where he would usually sit.

On arrival at the vets Calvin point blank refused to get out of the car. This made me smile. he lay curled up quite content and cosy in the spot. After some minutes of Calvin making me look like a muppet as I turned on my enthusiastic high pitched doggy voice my partner called for help. One of the nurse’s came out who knew Calvin from his previous hospital stay. He couldn’t hide his shock at Calvin’s rapid deterioration and couldn’t get over that his bloods were clear. I turned on my positive doggy voice again and failed once more to urge Calvin out of the car. The nurse stepped in and managed to succeed by manoeuvring him a bit.

The nurse took Calvin in and we waited in the waiting room until everything was set up. I desperately wanted to be strong for Calvin in his final moments. I spoke continuously to him and gave him a final fish treat which to my relief he accepted in true Labrador style. He was sat up and panted. He was meant to get sleepy and slide to the floor. I knew my determined boy would fight and resist for as long as possible. This meant rather than slide he practically dropped to the floor and I tried to break his fall. I will never forget his last gasp. Then the stillness. No rise and fall of the body. Just nothing. We were able to stay with him for a while and I stroked and talked to him. I lowered my face mask and left him with a snotty kiss on his head.

I knew I didn’t want Calvin cremated. I am Muslim and don’t believe in cremation. I didn’t realise it was rare for animals not to be cremated. Thankfully there is a pet cemetery close to Melton Mowbray called Buena Vista that do dog burials. The vets kept Calvin in a cool room to preserve his body until Buena Vista could collect him.

I am so grateful that organising Calvin’s funeral was super simple. I called Buena Vista later that morning and they said they would collect Calvin in the next couple of hours. It is more pricy to bury an animal than have them cremated but it is honestly the better option in my opinion.

Calvin’s funeral took place on Monday 19 April. Exactly one month after his 13th birthday. It was a glorious sunny day and I was excited to see Calvin again. That might sound crazy but I really was. I missed him so much and I’m glad that my last time with him wasn’t in traumatic circumstances. We arrived at Buena Vista around 11.30am and was greeted by the gardener who would assist with the burial. Calvin was already in his casquette curled peacefully inside. He was surrounded by flowers. I was able to stroke him and he felt groomed. Silky and soft to the touch. I made sure I would remember his strong body. I tucked his favourite blanket around him and also gave him his Barks and Spencer plush C bone that I bought him for Christmas that was remarkably still intact, squeak and all. Riley was present and gave his big brother a cheeky lick. Before the casquette was closed I stroked Calvin’s velvet ear one final time.

I am keen to ensure Calvin’s legacy lives on and have created a tribute fund in aid of Guide Dogs in his memory. I was touched by the generous donations by friends, family and acquaintances when I shared that I would like to raise £500 so a specially inscribed brick can be placed at the path of support and remembrance at the National Guide Dog centre in Leamington Spa, the town where his Guide Dog journey began. The target was reached in June but unfortunately due to the pandemic the brick is still yet to be laid. I’m really hoping it is placed before his birthday. I only had 18 characters with spaces to honour his memory. The brick will read: A Guiding Star, Calvin 2008-21.

It is going to take a long time but my next goal is to raise a minimum of £2500 to name a future Guide Dog puppy Calvin. When the climate is better I plan on holding events to help reach the target and I personally donate a little something each month. The average cost of a Guide Dog is £55,000. I’m never going to be able to payback that but will do what I can for a dog that changed my life for the better.

I get comfort from visiting Calvin as often as I can. He has a lovely spot underneath a willow tree. There is so much that I miss about Calvin and daily remember his affection and quirks. For someone who never liked dogs Calvin made sure he stole my heart.

If you would like to visit Calvin’s tribute fund you can do so by clicking here. There are lots of photos all with image descriptions when you click into them. There are also a few videos and when I donate I share memories. If you feel able it would be amazing if you could donate. I can picture Calvin’s bright eyes and waggy tail thanking you. He really was a special boy that deserves to be remembered.

Below are a selection of messages people sent me when they heard the news. There are some wonderful ones on his tribute fund too.

‘He really has had a great life with you, you’ve been so dedicated to him’

‘he was a brilliant dog, we will all miss him’

’poor Calvin but what a dog he was’

‘no way…loved that dog’

‘he was a legend, loved by all’

‘Calvin was very memorable’

‘he will never be forgotten, I feel that in my heart and he wasn’t even mine’

‘Calvin had a great life and we were very lucky to have him in the family. He was the best friend you could have’

‘he was such a lovely dog and had so much character’

‘RIP dear Calvin…it’s down to you that he was happy right to the end’

‘oh bless him, you gave him a lovely life’

‘he will leave a huge hole in your heart’

‘He was a really lovely cheeky boy and you have some fantastic funny memories to cherish’

‘he was such a cheeky character’

‘he was a character indeed. I’m sure you are certainly not short of love and smiles when you think of him’

Guide Dog Calvin, 19 March 2008 - 16April 2021. Thanks for the memories, we had the best adventure.

Broken Body

This blog post will reveal why I haven’t been able to literally sit down to write. 2021 has proven an immensely difficult year for my body.

It all kicked off in January. At the start of the year I felt run down. I had this weird lactic sensation in my legs. They felt so heavy all day without even exercising. Generally I felt tired and had bouts of nausea. I just didn’t feel right. After the symptoms didn’t ease after a week or so I did a PCR test suspecting covid as back then people were reporting all sorts of odd symptoms. The test came back negative and so I got advice from my doctor. They ran a blood test and everything except having high levels of B12 came back normal. The doctor told me I probably just had a virus and to wait it out. It wasn’t until mid-February that I began to feel better. It was the strangest illness that I thought would never end and I’m so thankful it did.

In March I had my first covid vaccine. It knocked me for six and I then spent another couple of weeks feeling poorly. People told me it must be my immune system working making amazing anti-bodies.

In April my heart shattered into a thousand pieces as Calvin my best friend and retired Guide Dog passed away at the age of 13. I don’t think I will ever recover from the grief. Even now 8 months on I will spontaneously burst into tears at the mention or thought of him.

In May I had my second vaccine. I wasn’t as poorly this time so apparently my immune system had worked its magic. However, I still felt rubbish for a few days. At least it wasn’t as bad as having covid itself.

In July just a week before I was due to race for the first time since 2017 I sustained a tight hamstring after a great training session. I didn’t think much of it at the time. The following day I couldn’t stretch my leg out straight it was that tight and painful. My guide runner did a great job of stretching it out before my gym session but I was left with a tightness in my glute. An actual pain in the bum!

Before I could treat my glute I was struck down with covid thanks to catching it in London when I attended the final of Euro 2020 at Wembley. After being surrounded by thousands of people for hours on end I knew my chances of catching the virus were high. I did hope that the vaccine would protect me. perhaps it did to an extent as I don’t appear to have long covid. Nevertheless, I was really poorly for a good couple of weeks. I lost my sense of taste and smell, had a horrible cough, sneezed constantly, had a fever for a couple of days and generally felt horrific. My partner who attended the Euros with me and has not been vaccinated showed no symptoms. Whilst somewhat envious of this, I was pleased to have someone to look after me.

Once recovered from covid I found although 3 weeks on I still had a pain in my glute. I saw a physio who was recommended by a friend and was informed I had a tight piriformis which is a muscle found in the glute. I was advised to rehab, have lots of massages and stretch.

6 weeks later I was in no better condition pain wise yet now possessed reasonably strong glutes and core. I went to the physio at my GP who recommended I saw a sports doctor. He thought an injection would solve the issue. It was time to claim on my Bupa once more. Something I was reluctant to do after my premium shot up after my knee surgery in 2019. I felt I had no other option.

The sports doctor seemed baffled and sent me for an MRI scan for my back and pelvis. I was hopeful the MRI would give me some answers. The answer was so unexpected. The scan showed that there was nothing wrong with me other than some mild arthritis. I was in agony whenever I sat down for prolonged periods but supposedly nothing was causing the pain. No trapped nerves, no inflammation, no sign of previous trauma.

The sports doctor referred me to a physio that he recommended. He said he doesn’t deny that I’m experiencing pain and felt neural flossing would be a benefit to me. to date I have seen the physio 3 times where a thorough examination was performed and flossing exercises given. Nothing has changed. The pain remains. In the New Year I will see the physio’s colleague for a second opinion as he is lost with what to do next.

If living with daily pain wasn’t bad enough at the beginning of December I picked up a nasty cold that kept me at home for a week and a couple of weeks ago I had eye surgery.

When I attended Moorfields for a routine appointment in October I never expected anything to be newly wrong with my eye. I was suffering with the usual pain and have simply accepted that. It was a shock when they told me the rubber band I had fitted in my eye at the age of two to help my eye grow had decided to partially expose itself.

They had no choice but to operate as they calmly told mee if it got infected it could be fatal. They felt it would be a quick and easy procedure that could be done with local anaesthetic. I told them I had trouble with local once before as my eye wouldn’t numb. The head of the clinic insisted it would be fine. It was far from fine.

I will try and spare everyone the traumatic details. Long story short my eye wouldn’t numb, so they numbed half of my face and hoped for the best. Only this didn’t seem to do the job either. I really wanted them to do the surgery after the hell I was going through. They managed to cut some of the exposed band. I will have to go back for more surgery so they can finish the procedure under general. I craved so much sugar afterwards. I was so shaken up.

Thankfully my eye seems to be healing well. I didn’t verbalise to anyone before the operation but I was terrified of losing my light perception. The days and hours leading up to the surgery I kept making sure I looked at every light I could to savour the moment in case it would be the last time. I have probably had close to 30 eye surgeries, I stopped counting after 20. I really don’t know how many more my eye can take before totally giving up on me.

To round the year off I have managed to sprain my ankle. Yesterday on an uneven bit of pavement when out walking Riley. You couldn’t make this stuff up!

Anyway, as you can see I’ve really not had a very healthy year in spite of being relatively fit and eating healthily. Whilst I have had a difficult time of it I am aware there are others who have it much worse and I have massive respect for everyone who has to be resilient in life.

Riley although only three has also had a few health problems this year. He had to have a tooth out as he broke one at some point chewing on something he shouldn’t no doubt. He then needed steroids on his leg as it got infected where they shaved him for the cannula. He then had some random swelling on one of his back legs that required anti-inflammatories. Finally he has finished the year with his first fatty lump. I’m really gutted about this as I’ve been extra careful this time to ensure he stays at a good body weight. I’m sure Calvin was about five when he got his first lump. I know Labradors are prone to them.

I’m hoping to be much healthier next year. Although if my body has other ideas I will try to remain in good spirits! I think I’m learning you can’t plan for life, you just have to go with the flow and hope for the best.

Working Woes

It’s time to revive my blog. It’s scary to think this is my first post of the year. To be honest this year is proving to be incredibly challenging and it’s about time I shared it all.

I have got so many woes to write about. This post will focus on my struggle to find secure employment. For years now I have been happily floating along with two jobs that are 0 hour contracts. Whilst the work has never been guaranteed, in general I have worked on a weekly basis and have been comfortable financially.

Last year I was furloughed by one job and the other job continued to provide regular work. This year the story has been somewhat different. On average I have been working three days per month! I am good at budgeting and have managed to keep on top of my bills but the situation is so stressful and there is no sign of it ever improving. When I do get work it is often at very short notice, it’s not uncommon to be asked if I’m free in the next half an hour. The majority of the time I am able to drop everything. When this isn’t possible I chastise myself for being busy and missing out on essential income. I’m fearful of making plans in case I’m asked to work.

All year I have actively been applying for jobs and to date have been offered three interviews. The first interview I couldn’t attend as I was asked to work and they couldn’t move the interview date. The second interview was for the Step Up to Social Work programme and I worked so hard on my application. However, after completing multiple assessments they informed me on my birthday that I hadn’t been successful. It was a kick in the teeth but I brushed myself off and applied for a job at a sight loss charity that I really liked the look of. Ever committed I made sure I submitted a strong application. Despite receiving glowing feedback I received another rejection. It was too much, my confidence was crushed and pride damaged.

How many times can a person pick themselves back up? If you’re me there is no limit. I had a big ugly cry and invited the smallest violin to play the saddest tune at my pity party. This year I feel like I’m failing. Failing at everything. Yet I know that failure doesn’t have to be forever and whilst I didn’t get this latest job I am proud of my application. That’s why I’m going to share it. I enjoyed working on it. Spoiler alert, the following does mention some of my other woes!

First I had to send my CV, cover letter and an audio presentation that lasted no longer than three minutes. The presentation needed to talk about a mentor in my life, how we met and how they have helped me. The written version is printed below. However, you can find the actual audio version on my Face Book page for this blog ‘Insight Out’. Skip pass the text if you have already listened to the audio to see what the interview assessment entailed.

Start presentation

Productivity breeds success. That’s the motto of my mentor, friend and guide runner Ryan Asquith. My name is Selina Litt and I am a T11 visually impaired 100m sprinter.

For as long as I can remember I have loved sport and in particular running. I volunteered for the cross country team at primary school and joined an athletics club at the age of 11. However, this was short lived because I struggled to keep up with my peers due to my partial vision at the time.

In my late teens, now completely blind I joined an athletics club specifically for the disabled and in 2009 started competing. Like many I was excited about London 2012 and dreamed of racing at the games. Unfortunately I am not naturally talented and initially I ran around 17 seconds over 100m.

By 2011 I had reduced my time to 15 seconds and trained with Charnwood AC. I was on the lookout for a new guide runner that could help me progress further when I was approached by Lincoln Asquith, former GB sprinter and guide runner. He said I could run with his son Ryan providing he could coach us. Little did Lincoln know I wanted him to coach me for years. Nevertheless, I knew nothing about Ryan.

In late 2011 Ryan and I started training together 4 times per week. Two track sessions and 2 gym sessions. A trend that would continue for the next 10 years.

Over the last decade Ryan has advised, motivated and emotionally supported me. He has guided me both physically and mentally so that I can reach my goals.

He has advised me on nutrition, technique and recovery. Motivated me to train when the weather has been miserable and when I’ve felt tired. He has emotionally supported me through injury and poor performances.

He has guided me to the T11 60m indoor British record, 5th place at the Glasgow 2014 Commonwealth Games, a 13.52 seconds 100m PB and a 3rd place ranking in Europe in 2017. The same year I sustained a career threatening injury.

I STILL HAVE DREAMS of competing at a Paralympic Games despite spending the last few years rehabilitating. For as long as I have Ryan by my side I believe I can achieve. Productivity breeds success…

End presentation

At interview stage I had a regular question and answer session that was followed by a written task. I had twenty minutes to write about ‘a perfect day’ and email the response back to them. It had to be written over three paragraphs. Considering how many hours it takes me to write these blog posts, it’s a miracle I managed to write more than a sentence! In all seriousness writing the below made my eyes prick with tears, it really was the most perfect of days.

Start text

About a year ago I had the most perfect day when my partner and I travelled to Old Hunstanton with my retired Guide Dog Calvin and current Guide Dog Riley. It was the first time we had holidayed as a four and I felt like I had my own little family.

Surprising for England the sun was shining and I found myself in a t-shirt and shorts on the beach, in Britain! I love the beach, listening to the soothing sounds of the waves, feeling the sand between my toes and this time listening to the merry jingle of Calvin and Riley’s bells on their collars as they played happily whilst my partner and I walked hand in hand.

I will always treasure that day on the beach as little did I know that would be our one and only holiday together as a four. Calvin sadly passed away earlier this year. I’m so pleased we could make that magical memory before he passed. Despite being twelve and a half at the time I’ll never forget him jumping up on me to say thank you for bringing him to the beach, our shared love.

End text

Of course Calvin will have his own blog post before the year is out. I have written most of it but every time I go back to it I’m in bits. I will find the strength. And yes I do seem to be crying a hell of a lot this year. I never used to be a crier at all. Testing times.

Anyway, the job hunt continues. I’m going to put it out there, if anyone wants to offer me part-time work then don’t be afraid to contact me. I am more than happy to send you a copy of my CV.