Later I saw our dog Mischka sitting in the winter sun in the driveway. I wished I was a dog sitting in the sun.
I'm struggling with everything this week. It's so hard to … do things.
Driving back home and Mischka was still in the same spot, just sitting there. She's a white Siberian husky, with one blue eye and one brown. Dave walked out this morning and she was still there and struggling to breathe because she had a tick. Dave took her straight to the vet and they gave her oxygen and medicine but she died anyway.
We've had her for seven years. She's Dave's dog .. off to work with him every day in the ute. He believes that during their walks when he was on chemo, Mischka took his cancer away.
He brought her home for the last time. My burly twenty-year old stepson Tim dug a hole next to the lemon tree in the veggie garden, and we all said goodbye.
I've known my husband for thirteen years. Never have I seen him so upset.
He lowered her in the hole in the ground and Rocco announced that he wasn't sad, and could he please see Mischka's skeleton? Then he asked if Grandad was going in the hole too? I said no mate, we will be saying goodbye to Grandad on Friday.
Shovels of dirt and it was all done. She's buried next to half of Rocco's placenta. (Long story.)
As we were finishing up, some people arrived in our driveway to look at our house because it's up for auction this weekend and their dog took a dump on our front garden. They left it there. I hate people.
The twilight between a death and a funeral is always so odd. I meant to walk back and check on Mischka to make sure she was ok but I forgot. Too preoccupied with death. Huh.
I never wanted a stupid dog in the first place. She was a beautiful, gentle dog. Never bit, never really barked. I don't want her to be dead and buried next to my house.
Grief rhymes with thief because they both steal.
I'm in topsy-turvy land. Yesterday I wished I was a dog in the sun, not knowing the dog was dying. I guess that's why we need to be careful for what we wish for.
I wrote in this post about wanting a Lindsay painting for the cancer ward. Anon, people like you exist in the world THANK GOD. Thank you so much ... I'll get it framed and hang it somewhere cool. Or the stroke ward.