For 13 years Holly and I were virtually joined at the hip. I felt safe with her and I loved that dog more than life itself and never more so than when she adopted and took on the job of being mother to those kittens.
She would watch them, keep them under control, the cats would come in and hide somewhere safe if Holly barked a certain way (even when they were all grown up), she'd tell them off if they scratched the furniture, she brought them back if they wandered too far, she'd wash their little bottoms and she would play with them, teaching them to "ruff and tumble."
Balu especially, who would be on his back and Holly would nuzzle into his floofy belly. It always made her sneeze incessantly and her nose would wrinkle, which always gave the impression that she was giggling. In fact, I almost believe she was. Balu was clearly enjoying himself too, because he made no objection and didn't dig his claws in her snout as she virtually used the fluffy mog as a feline floor mop!
How I miss waking up to such loving scenes.
But as much as they should be really wonderful memories, remembering is not yet a pleasant thing. I wonder if it ever will be? Still now though it only brings with it a painful, aching longing, a huge lump in my chest and throat and a reminder of the massive void in my life that she filled. I was with Holly when I had to have her put down in 2008 - because at the last, at least I could do that for her and never desert her - but I cannot get over it. Every time I think of her, I can see the expression on her face that day. It still comes to me in flashbacks at inappropriate times during the day and it comes to me as nightmares at night. It haunts and terrorizes me.
And I have no idea how I can make it better.
No comments:
Post a comment