It's been a week since George was put down and strange as it would seem for an old sentimental queen I haven't cried or felt sorry myself since
It was his time to go
Old dogs have no fear of death, they just soldier on until they fall over.
This morning I had a wobble
It was in the middle of chasing my tail; booking bluebell in for her service, sorting out new job admin, mentoring Sams volunteers and making sure my fast talking financial advisor doesn't forget me!
I had just finished eating 2 eggs on dry toast
as I downed my only coffee bucket of the day
and without thinking I popped the eggy detritus covered plate on the floor by the table leg
Only he wasn't there
There was no scraping of old nails on lino
No quiet black art deco shaped shadow morphing out from under the table
No paced enjoyment of an everyday treat
The bright yellow yolk smears remained untouched
crumbs and crusts still cluttering the plate
And the knife stab of realisation was as painful as a real wounding
Thirteen years is a long time to have a constant companion
Even one who always hid away in the wings
But the stab lasted but a mere moment so there is no need to tell me you love me
as Stevie Nicks belted out on Sunday
"Don't stop thinking about tomorrow
Don't stop, it'll soon be here
It'll be here, better than before
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone"
Aww it is often in the quiet moments that we miss our buddies. There quiet footsteps or the jump as they land on the bed, or there furry heads finding the space under our fingertips.
ReplyDeleteWell, I love you anyway!
ReplyDeleteI am rather surprised that not another of your dogs or cat have stepped up to the plate, so to speak.
ReplyDeleteStevie -as always- is right.
ReplyDeleteI like that you’re a sentimental teddy bear.
XoXo
Oh I know that feeling, when you reach down to rub some ears or drop food on the floor and it's those ordinary moments that hurt. Feels for you. xoxo
ReplyDeleteThose moments creep in....don't they?
ReplyDeleteI often see my favorite cat in the corner of my eye, watching me, its a comfort, because they leave a huge hole.
ReplyDeleteYou were well and truly distracted and in auto pilot. Not a bad sign actually.
ReplyDeleteOld George had a wonderful life with you and your eggy detritus.
ReplyDeleteBless. These things can come out of the blue - sometimes years later. xx
ReplyDeleteThe elderly lady in the cottage opposite us is struggling with the decision to put her very old labrador to sleep. His name is Malcolm. We only know the lady as Mrs Malcolm.
ReplyDeleteStevie is absolutely right.
ReplyDeleteIt's good to think about tomorrow. Trusting that there will be one.
ReplyDeleteAnd, naturally, yesterday is gone. Cue memories.
However, as much as I cherish the past, and as much as I look forward to a future, I wish people were more in the NOW, the present, this very moment.
U
For a few months before going to sleep, I almost leave the house for a short night walk, and then I remember that the dog is no longer here.
ReplyDeletei'm hoping somewhere far away that George liked the gesture that you were thinking of him. - the ordinary things that we do for each other - make lasting memories.
ReplyDeleteJohn dear - you're a poet at heart. I believe the best poets and writers have taken their pain as well as their joys, and put it all into words. That you do it so well that I can FEEL what you feel - that's the magic. Uniting us in our feelings - connection - is a true gift. Much appreciation from Illinois, Karla
ReplyDeleteAs you may know old Jinx passed away... 17 years.. And i find thoughts of him pop in at the most unlikely moments.. I still find myself 'guarding' the door when i open it because he liked to dash out and he was an indoor cat.. i can leave the door wide open now.. I still have a cabinet of catfood i haven't brought myself to dispose of.. When life slows down and i sit for a moment .. i miss him.. his companionship.. his talkative meow as i would tell him about my day.. Aaaah Jinx.. why can't they live as long as we do..? Hugs! deb
ReplyDeleteMy chicken girls were killed/murdered possibly by a ferret (nature sucks)
ReplyDeletethree weeks ago, I didn’t realise how often I’d pop down the garden with a spoonful of rice, a few grapes, pastry or bread crumbs, or just to pop a handful of grass to the ever appreciative little persons, miss them...Teresa
Oh my - when I enlarged his photo I could see better that he'd been digging around in the snow. Bless his sweet doggy heart! These are our "roses in December" moments - they are always with us. Rest ever in Peace, dear George. You are a brave and compassionate old soul, John. xoxoxoxo
ReplyDeleteTomorrow sounds scary sometimes but you are in the vanguard for me...bra straps eh? x
ReplyDeletei still get that way about my teddy and she will be dead 2 years in september. god how i loved that dog.
ReplyDeleteI see Sterling's ghost at times. Hugs to you.
ReplyDeleteIn a similar but not so sad situation our dog was at the vets overnight for some treatment and our three children were round the table having dinner and after dinner I looked down and saw all sorts of bits and pieces of food on the floor. Turns out the children forgot the dog wasn't there to eat the stuff they didn't want! We laugh about it now, it was about 30 years ago. x
ReplyDeleteThe pain of losing a pet is hard. I say good morning to Sandy our lovely ginger Tom every morning. I miss his vocalness. George is there in spirit watching over you. Take care of yourself and God bless
ReplyDeleteHe is the glue that stuck parts of your life together and always will be x
ReplyDeleteOh that story rings so true with me John.
ReplyDeleteOur old Rottie, Bear used to insist upon eating the sliced top bit of a boiled egg, he had to be fed it from a teaspoon and would clamp his teeth on the spoon so you had to tug to get it back!
Still cannot eat a boiled egg without thinking of him, he died 10 years ago.
Our animals never let us down, do they.
Love from Tess x
Sometimes, when a pet - or a person - is elderly and infirm, it can be a relief to know they are no longer suffering, and death may not bring that flood of grief. But still, as you described, the loss is there waiting to be noticed too. Sweet George.
ReplyDeleteI didn't cry over my father's death until two weeks later, when I had an unrelated appointment in the town where he died. It hit me on the way home. Hard.
Beautifully written, with a lovely sentiment. The moment may be over, but sending hugs anyway.
ReplyDeleteAs Jacqui says, the moment may be over but I bet there's more than one tear from your animal loving friends who know how you feel, or look at their old friends still with them...
ReplyDeleteOh yes. Those moments do sneak up and stab us.
ReplyDeleteMy father died at the right time for him, tired and in need of a rest so I don't resent his death but every so often a small incident reminds me of how much I miss him - grief is missing someone worth missing. ((Hugs))
ReplyDeleteIt's those little everyday things that remind you of what you're missing.
ReplyDeleteI read recently that grief is simply love that has no place to go. I attended my fathers friend's funeral and my dad was mentioned. He has been gone over 5 years and yet, thrilled to hear their stories of him, it brought a pang of grief. Love with no where to go.
ReplyDeleteThat's a wise insight. Thank you for pricking my own tears.
DeleteThat is a powerful insight into grief
DeleteI would say that is spot on Mary.
DeleteBeautifully put John.
ReplyDeleteEvery day is a day to be told you are loved. We love you John x
ReplyDeleteIt is always the quick stabs when you don't expect them that hurt the most.
ReplyDeleteMe thinks you have hit upon a theme song.
ReplyDeleteI've had a lot of those moments recently, God they hurt.
ReplyDeleteI think the reason losing Bella has been so hard is that she was SO full of a bubbly, infectious happiness that she was happy to share with every person and everything that she met ... and it wasn't her time 💔
A sad but lovely story George might have always followed from the rear but he was the leader of the pack and inhabits every corner of the cottage.
ReplyDeleteMy Holly left six years ago for Rainbow Bridge. I still see her out of the corner of my eye and feel her thump on the bed at night.
ReplyDeleteFor such a small thing (JRT) she left a very big gap in life.
Our dog, Izzy, died last July. We still save small pieces of bread for her as we used to throw them to her in her little bed. Old loving habits die hard.
ReplyDeleteand by save them I mean save them on our plate until we are done eating then pass them on to her.
DeleteIt is in these small things that grief grabs you by the throat; you just soldier on through the big stuff. We have all been there, John. I lost my last rescue sheltie six weeks ago.
ReplyDeleteLast night I turned from the keyboard and aid: Bedtime, chaps." My husband died four years ago my dear Jack eight years ago, Rexie just weeks since. We were a team. And now there is only me
Life's a bitch and then you die. Onwards!