Creating New Memories

I have this great lump in my throat. Not just in my throat; the lump travels to my heart and to my eyes without warning. I find myself thinking Sascha is behind me or next to me or tottering her way through the dog door. Yesterday I swore I could feel her, smell her in the house. The suddenness of her demise is still hard to bear.

I found myself recollecting a James Herriott story about a young spirited little Poodle struck down by severe gastroenteritis. By accident, he had heavily sedated a sheep after birth whom he considered was dying. The sheep had slept for two days and completely recovered. James decided to try this treatment with the little dog when her gastroenteritis seemed intractable. Like the sheep, the dog slept for forty-eight hours, her body given a break from the terrible thirst and diarrhoea she was suffering. And recovered completely.

How I longed I could have offered this option to our beloved Sascha. But the reality was completely different. Sascha was elderly and very unwell. We could have stabbed her with needles and confined her to a cage and tried to rehydrate her and attempted to diagnose the cause of her obvious illness. Instead, we sat with her and cried over her and talked to her and loved her with every fibre of our beings until her spirit flew.

Today has been all about tiny miraculous memories without Sascha. Pip slept at my feet all night. This morning, he and Ruby sat together on the dog bed now in our bedroom whilst Ruby licked his back and sniffed his willy. Ruby doesn't lick anybody. What excellent therapy!

They have lain together under our desk. Together. We took them to our familiar oval this evening. I am sure Pip strained his eyes in all directions for his beloved Sascha, but then he ran with Ruby. They both interacted with a young German Shepherd during the walk. They have had a couple of playdates with their mate, Macca. I have asked Gary to bring Boof over next time they are together. I hope we can also meet with Tex and Woody and JB and all our other canine playmates. If anybody wants to visit us with their doggy child, now is the time, please.

As I write this post, the anti-social Beagle and the anxious Jack Russell are lying together underneath the desk. There have been the bonds of tolerance and friendship between them for over eight years. Now, with Sascha gone, I believe they are naturally changing their relationship to become closer to each other in her absence.

And blow me down. Madame Cat appears to be more affectionate towards them too. The Three Stooges are re-grouping.

I know Sascha's spirit is still with us. I know she will be content with the changing of the guard.