Listen to what pets tell us

BIFFY just seemed to be withdrawing from family life.

Once a lean, fit Springer Spaniel in name and in nature, he had been slowing up for a while.

Some months ago, he had given up on his favourite ball chasing activity.

He would go after the first one that was thrown but return with it reluctantly and then his interest quickly dwindled.

After a lifetime of being first at the door to greet any family member or guest, he now resolutely refused to leave his basket unless he was seriously cajoled.

Normally, he was Mister Playful, instigating games with anyone he could find, dancing around them and barking to get their attention but this had stopped too.

His days were spent lounging in his bed and his nights were pretty much the same.

His owners had started the “what’s his quality of life” discussion.

Then things got really serious. From nowhere, Biffy, the best ever family pet, bit the owners’ grandson.

I had always known them to be a pragmatic pair, so was not surprised when they arrived at the surgery, slightly tearful, but determined that the situation required drastic and determined action.

They wanted Biffy to be put to sleep.

Most people react to trauma with a purely emotional response.

Sometimes, but not always, you need to stop, compose yourself a little and wait for some rational thinking to kick in.

What Biffy had done was completely and utterly out of character.

He had never shown any aggressive tendency ever. This was not a “straw that finally broke the camel’s back” occurrence.

Careful discussion with the owners and, eventually, their daughter revealed that the grandson had run up to Biffy when he was asleep in his basket and smacked him playfully but quite hard on his bottom.

He had not, despite his dramatic and hysterical response, actually been bitten, although Biffy had certainly bared his teeth at him.

Meanwhile, poor old Biffy stood benignly in the corner of the consulting room, apparently blissfully unaware of all the raised voices and commotion.

And, of course, that’s exactly what he was. Completely unaware. Because he was stone deaf.

It explains it all, doesn’t it? No longer reacting to his owners’ shouted recall and joy at his retrieve, he had given up on the ball.

He no longer heard a vehicle arrive or the front door open.

Unable to hear conversation, he felt ostracised from his family. And then he got the fright.

It was time for a rethink. Find out next week.