Wednesday, November 04, 2009
The Importance of Being.
Last night ate a couple of space chocolates Richie had made for me, very good chocolates but did not feel totally reassured that they would get me off to sleep.
This was because Richie had showed me a big new pile of post and added to the pile that is already there for me to deal with, could feel myself getting very tense.
Think showing me the post just before we went to sleep was not a good idea, hope we can eat and then deal with them as I am sure its fear of the unknown that is getting me in a right old state.
Until I see the post I shall be having all sorts of thoughts which I am sure will not happen.
Think despite the cool weather I do need some air in the room as it feels very stuffy in here.
The dogs came in all damp from the rain and have filled the room with aroma of wet dog, wet and not so happy dogs.
Going around the block in the rain is horrid, going to the park in rain; even pouring rain is glorious fun.
Funny wee dogs, our first dog Daisy was like that too, if anything even more of a princess.
She hated it raining when she went round the block and would take ages to find somewhere dry so she could piss on.
A weird dog, our little princess Daisy.
She had alot of funny little ways, she would show her disapproval by sniffing, lots of different sniffs, and if I laughed she would pick Richie out as the culprit and glare at him.
If that set us both off and we both laughed she would do her Lady Bracknell (Importance of being Ernest by Oscar Wilde)impersonation and sniff very loudly and leave the room slowly and elegantly and leaving us in no doubt of the reason for her departure.
She was an incredible dog, if you said to her oh my poor darling Daisy aren't you so well today she would let her head hang down slightly and look like she had a very hard life.
Her whole body would change; before you said anything she would be standing full of vigour her coat gleaming.
And as soon as she started to play along her body would sag and her coat would not look as good, it would look a touch baggy and have no shine.
She would look like if she could talk she would tell you horrendous stories of hunger and fleeing from hostile enemies and escaping by sheer hard work and persistence on her part.
She was a wonderful brave heroine of a dog.
Looked like she took in washing to keep a family of 16 and the rest of the time she was washing floors, poor girl.
Daisy could go from happy to abysmally miserable in a second just by our suggestion, a wonderful dog.
It was very sad that she died in June 2006, on the Saturday she had a wonderful time in the park and came back very happy and immediately went out onto the b balcony with her treat, to show and bake in the sun.
She had a great day, the next day Sunday she was abit tired after Richie brought the dogs back from the park, but again took her treat out on to the balcony.
As she had water out there we did not see her again until near the end of the afternoon when she suddenly sounded in distress.
Her breathing was strange and difficult; she was gasping and looked in great pain as well as being extremely scared.
Richie gave her some painkillers that night, which seemed to do the trick as she was calmer and could eat her dinner and anything else that was on offer.
The next day Richie took her to the vets, who sent him to one with a scanner; this showed that her longs were totally full of tumours.
We very sadly arranged to take her to our vet, who already knew the test results, the next day.
Daisy was with us for one more day, where we both did our best not to show her how sad we were really feeling.
Richie had to carry her up and down the steps, two flights were too much, we had enough painkillers to take the pain away and give her a last good night with us.
She still could eat her treats and biscuits which we were very liberal with, the next day we took the tram, she moved very carefully.
We got to the vet’s and she was very happy to be there, and meet her friend Barbara, the wonderful vet and her assistant.
She even w anted her usual biscuit and after checking we wanted to go ahead Barbara gave Daisy the first injection while Richie held her in his arms.
She went off so quickly and then Barbara gave her the second injection and our beautiful Daisy was dead.
This was in the same week as my first MRI which did not make me optimistic that all would be well for me.
As it turned out despite my thinking on Daisy’s last night at home that I would not be alive for too much longer than Daisy, I am still alive and here and planning to be here for as long as possible.
We will always miss Daisy, she was an incredible dog, a lovely friend, we have so many wonderful stories we tell each other about her.
Telling stories is how we coped with our grief of missing her, that is I guess how we humans deal with life.
Story telling helps us to understand and they also help to remind us of friends who are no longer with us.
As long as we are remembered none of us will be dead, we will live on in stories and thoughts of those who are alive.
PS Will be sitting for 30 minutes later on.