Dogs, For Example
There have been, as I’ve said before, eight dogs with whom I’ve shared a home. That excludes our company-mascot when I was Out East: he was a rescue-dog who lived with us all!
Each time one of the dogs in our home has passed on, I’ve realised just how much I have loved that one. And I think I may have shown the next one a little more of the love I have for that new one.
I mention this because I’m pretty sure that the death of my pal, Gypsy, upset me more than the departure of any other cohabiting dog. Shiny black Gyp was my little pal – we sort of knocked around together and chatted a lot. (Does saying that make me seem some sort of nutter?)
It was about three years between Gyp’s being put to sleep until the arrival of Bess. She was another rescue-dog and brought a lot of emotional rubbish with her from her rotten puppyhood. Her emotions were not helped by ours being the fourth home in which she had lived.
Over the eight-and-a-half years she’s lived with us, we’ve become accustomed to each others’ ways and I understand her better now.
Though Bess is nothing like Gypsy was, I treasure her and try to show her how much I love her. That is not being disloyal to Gyp, my favourite dog ever. But I feel more compelled to tell Bess how I feel.
My parents died too young. They still remain always in my thoughts after all the decades. “Love does not end at the grave” to quote myself.
Then, along came our daughter, Liz, and I’ve always expressed my parental love to her as best I can. Then, along came two grand-daughters: first Ceri then Milly. And they must know by now that I love ‘em to bits. I’m sure all three of them must see me as a worrying old goat at times – that’s just the way I care.
So I ask myself the question: “Does the natural love one has for someone – human or animal – teach us how to love the newcomers into our lives, so that we can express that love better, easier?”
(A piece about Gypsy can be found via the Serious Writings page of my blog the piece is called “Requiem”.)