MistyIt had to be done and today, feeling fortified by the beautiful autumn sun and a sense of acceptance and peace, hubby and I headed off to the vets to collect Misty’s ashes.

You all know how death and grief gets you: it goes in cycles… yes? Strong and hopeful one minute and a blubbering mess the next. I was determined to NOT be the latter.

So, we arrived at the vets with a carrier bag full of left over and unused medication; and a tray of special diet tinned dog food. We saw no point in it going to waste. Let some other dog owner and their pet have an early Christmas box.

All was going well. I’d settled the outstanding bill and even managed to look at the white, rather large box that the receptionist had placed on the counter, next to us.

Then, as we chatted she started to tell us about how she’d struggled with the loss of her dog some years ago. How she’d sprinkled his ashes in her garden. I plan to scatter Misty’s ashes in our garden, so this was okay. I was handling it all fine.

Photo credit: telegraph.co.uk
Photo credit: telegraph.co.uk

Then, she started to talk about doggy heaven and Misty and her chums running through a field of wild flowers in the sun.

Strangely enough, I had a dream where this very same thing happened. Is this a requisite dream for dog owners, upon losing their pet?

Unfortunately, standing in the waiting room at the vets wasn’t exactly the place I wanted to recall this dream and I crumbled. I quickly became a blubbering mess as she added she was going to miss seeing us.

I tried to mumble things in between the tears, checked red-eyed hubby was okay, grabbed the dreaded white box and got the hell out of there.

She meant well and when I think I can deal with her lovely idea of doggy heaven, I will ring her to apologise for my weak and blubbery faced exit. I also want to say how much I will miss all of them. They have all become friends over the years, as we have frequented the surgery with numerous pets.

I wouldn’t be a vet’s receptionist for all the money in the world. They get to see our beloved  pets when they are poorly, dying and have to deal with us broken-hearted owners, when our treasured animals take their leave of us.

Now back home, I have managed to scatter some ashes, in the garden, in one of Misty’s favourite spots to sunbathe. With me writing, reading, or just doing nothing, she would sit next to me and listen to the water feature. This is where I will go to remember her.

Although, I rather think that as in life, Misty is still a strong spirit. My hubby has seen her, our daughter has dreamt of her and our youngest grandson keeps telling us she is in the lounge…in the very same spot she last stood. I have also had a very definite sense of her presence, as well as dreaming about her.

Spooky or what?

No, rather comforting actually.

So, life goes on.

Thanks for taking the time to stop by and read.

Until the next time.

Dorne x

 

9 thoughts on “Unsung heroes…the vet’s receptionist.

  1. Oh, Dorne. I think you are doing all the right things for you. Tears are alright. I had a beloved cat, Molly. After she passed she came to me one night, jumped up on the bed and put her cold, wet nose up against mine, just as she always had. I awakened and reached for her saying, “Molly, you’re back!” Of course, she was gone, but I knew then that she was with me forever. I share in your pain and loss. Hugs my friend. ❤

    Like

    1. They do have a difficult job don’t they? All pets don’t want to be there, even if they are just having a jab, or check up. And we don’t want to be and yet the receptionists have to be upbeat and professional. I couldn’t hand someone’s beloved pet to them in a casket.

      Like

  2. Hi Dorne, as you said in a comment to Colleen, time is a great healer. It does not mater what life throws at us, as time will help us deal with it and that feeling of healing will get stronger by the day.

    I’m so sorry about Misty. You have some beautiful memories of her and it is wonderful that you are surrounded by her favourite places.

    Take care.
    Hugh
    xx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Hugh. Unfortunately, some of those places are proving hard to visit at the moment, but it will get easier. I just need to be patient.
      She was one special dog…as all of our dogs are to us.
      Hope you are soldiering on and good to hear from you. xx

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I fully understand, Dorne. The early days are very hard to cope with but friends, family, and even those we have never met face to face can be so helpful in guiding us back on track. Enjoy the wonderful memories even if they do bring tears. Today is a new month and I’m looking at it as if a new door has opened. I just need to go though it now 🙂 I hope you will join me?

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thanks again Hugh. Your kind words and thoughts really do help. I hope you are doing okay. It’s not easy losing a parent and you’ve had more than your fair share of bereavements , this year.
        Your email really helped me, by the way.
        I have been down and gloomy doomy, but I now need to get my act together.
        I think your idea of the October new door is just great and I suggest that we skip through it, hand in hand…right now!
        Here goes! xx

        Liked by 1 person

Go on...make my day/life and leave a comment. I don't bite...much!

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s