A DOG IN THE LIFE
Grief: to type this word means there has been an event that proposes to decide how I will feel, an event that changes my course and what happens and how it feels here in this little grey house.
An early stage of this blog saw a golden retriever puppy arrive at my little house. She burst in with energy, exuberance, naughtiness and fun. A puppy wasn’t my idea, she simply and naturally became mine from the moment she arrived home with my husband and son, ran to the sound of my voice and leapt into my arms. And just like that, she became an integral part of my life and my blog; she was featured in countless posts, articles, and even a book. Every little house should have a dog; of this, I am sure.
That was nearly 13 years ago, and that 13 years was meaningful. They say mourning the loss of a pet, especially a dog, is enormous, sometimes even worse than that of a person, due to the amount of time you spend with them or they with you. I would agree. I knew it was time; I knew she had had her time here and that any longer would not be quality. I was perhaps already in denial and toying with the fact that she really couldn’t be comfortable anymore, despite her bravery and her resilience.
Coco. That sweet, dear girl who filled my bucket every day has gone and there isn’t a day in the life that this dog in the life wont be missed.
I don’t want to bang on about it; I want to acknowledge what she was and how she was indeed very much a part of this, of me, of us and that mornings, evenings, and all the in-betweens are different, are lacking, are just a little bit duller, a little bit flat without that sweet, endearing presence.
I miss you, little Coco-pop. Rest in peace, dear sweet girl. Thank you for making each day better than the one before.
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