Life Aboard: Paws and Pain
Some may call us crazy, but much of our life aboard is consumed with caring for our four-legged companions. Some days I think they require more care than the boat does, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. We’re as much dog people as we are boat people, and life aboard—or life anywhere for that matter—wouldn’t be the same without our Portuguese Water Dogs. Our boat’s name Liberdade means freedom in Portuguese; the boat is our freedom and it’s in our dog’s language, that alone should give you an idea of their importance to us.
Two of our “porties,” Sophie and Bailey were the perfect boat dogs. True to their breed, they loved the water and were agile when maneuvering around the boat. Sociable in nature, they also were great icebreakers, starting conversations on the docks and introducing us to friends we may not have otherwise met.
The “girls” as they were affectionately known, were sisters four years apart. Sophie was aging and we knew our time with her was limited. Bailey had never been alone, so with Sophie’s days numbered, we decided to get a companion for Bailey. After bringing 4-month-old Cali home to the boat, we seriously questioned our sanity; what were we thinking having three dogs ranging from 4 months to 14 years on a boat? We persevered nonetheless, and with the three of them out front, Liberdade had the perfect “Portuguese Bridge.”
On one particular day underway, we had a one-night-stop planned. Arrive, rinse down the boat, make dinner, walk the dogs, go to bed and do it all again tomorrow. This is part of the life on a cruising boat. Sure, there are times and destinations where we linger and enjoy a favorite seaside village, but when you’re cruising north and south with the seasons, much of the time is spent putting miles under the keel.
During a routine stop, Bailey didn’t seem interested in a romp through the grass or the treat the marina staff offered her, which was unusual, but we just shrugged it off. When she wouldn’t eat dinner, we became mildly concerned, but she’s always been a little indifferent to food, so we still were not too alarmed. All of that changed when we were all snuggled on the salon settee for the evening and Dori noticed that her paws were ice cold.
When you travel with dogs on a boat, you learn the importance of having a vet that offers teledoc services. After a call to her, we were now in panic mode to find a way to get Bailey to a local vet. There are times when finding a car or a grocery store is a wonderful part of the cruising adventure, but on this frightful night, finding a car became a desperate search. Walking down the dock knocking on boats, finally produced a car we could use to drive an hour from Deltaville to Williamsburg, where the closest emergency vet could see her.
We packed up Bailey and Cali, who was too young to leave unattended on the boat and drove into the night with Dori in the back seat cradling both dogs in her lap. The pleasant and efficient vet office took Bailey from us immediately upon our arrival. The look on the Doctor’s face said more than we were prepared to hear, when she returned to the waiting room and informed us that a growth on Bailey’s spleen had ruptured and that she was bleeding internally. She informed us that there was little they could do for her.
The ride back to the marina with just Cali in Dori’s lap was the most painful car ride either of us have ever taken. We walked back into the boat and were greeted by Sophie as eagerly as our old girl was capable of, but she instantly sensed something was wrong. We sat down in the salon holding our senior girl and a curious puppy and cried through the night. Neither of us could bring ourselves to close our eyes, because we already felt like we were in a living nightmare. At that moment, I would have given the boat and everything in it to have brought Bailey home with us. I hated this boat and our boating life, stranded alone in a town where we didn’t know anyone and hurting more than I thought was possible.
This was not how it was supposed to turn out; Cali was supposed to keep Bailey company when Sophie left us. Now we had a 4-month-old puppy and a cranky 14-year-old who wanted little to do with her. As life works out, our best boating friends, who we met when our “girls” met their own Portuguese Water Dog Charlie in St. Augustine a few years earlier, lived just south of Deltaville in Hampton, Virginia. They offered us their dock and their love, so we could be still for a few days, and try to start healing from the hurt.
I’m happy to say that life aboard has continued for us. Cali helped us through the loss of Sophie a few months later and has proven to be a loving and capable cruising companion. Pain and pleasure dance together in every aspect of life, the cruising life is no different. We wouldn’t trade our life aboard for anything. That includes the highs and the lows of all of it.
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This article originally appeared in the February 2024 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.
Source: https://www.powerandmotoryacht.com/column/life-aboard-paws-and-pain
