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.
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.
A middle-aged woman going on about this and that!
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