It is set at my parents’ ‘old’ house (they moved last year after 28 years), and I don’t know the people living there.
In the dream, I return from China after being away for 3 months or so, to collect my dogs from this house. Remember, this is the house I grew up in and have so many wonderful memories of.
The new owners are not home, it is dark outside and I am there to collect my dogs. They are nowhere to be found in the house. Finally, I find them, chained up at the front door – starving, dirty, shivering. No beds or toys or comforts. They are not the happy little woofers I know and love, and my heart feels like it will burst with pain for what I’ve subjected these two loves of my life to.
Of course, I wake up from the nightmare and breathe a sigh of relief. Because whilst I am here, and they are there, I’ve left them in wonderfully capable and loving hands. My (four-legged) boys are in their home, enjoying all their creature comforts, with my (two-legged) boy. Every time I speak to D when he is home with them, I can hear my babies in the background, play fighting and barking happily and growling at D to stop giving so much attention to the phone and more ear scratching, tummy rubbing and rough housing with them, please. And another Scooby-Doo treat, too, please D. Well, with Leo, anyway. Mishy just wants cuddles and to get his tongue up D’s nose and inside his mouth.
On the few occasions when D has needed a break or is unable to look after the boys, they go to my folks’ new place, for a visit with Nanny & Poppy, and happily tear around the backyard and go for walks around the new estate and enjoy cuddles with my Dad.
I am so fortunate and feel most grateful that I have a bloke who loves my ‘fluffy, white, girl’s dogs’ as much as he does, as well as parents who enjoy the cheeky antics of this feisty twosome.
Leo, the Westie, and Mish, the Chihuahua, Christmas 2009
Thanks for loving and looking after my babies so well! xo
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In that vein, another story for unconditional and unwavering love for a canine kindred spirit. My dear friend, C, this week said goodbye to her faithful and much-loved Sheltie, Walter, at the ripe old age of 17.5 years old. I have known C for almost 7 years, and we bonded instantly. I have known her boy, Walter, just as long, and often think of them as “C & Walt”, like a couple, a team. Waltie has long been a feature in all aspects of C’s life, joining us for dinners at Albert Park, birthday drinks at Lamaros, long weekends on the Peninsula. My boys and I have spent a few nights couch-surfing with C and Walt, and them with us, and I’ve long referred to C’s boy as my boys’ “Uncle Walter”.
I’ve watched C rearrange her life to look after Walt in his twilight years, providing him with palliative care for 5 or so years until his soul’s departure from this earth this week. C’s love and dedication to Walt in his old age is something to be admired – we hear stories of people who can’t do that even for their own family, let alone a dog. But C did it, without complaint, for days, months, years. Because for those of us who love a dog, they are more than a pet. They are a trusted adviser, a part of our family, a protector, dear friend and soul mate.
In C’s email to her friends to let us know of Walt’s passing, she wrote “Walt exited this world when it was the right time for both of us - and in his departure and the days before - he handled it with patience, courage, grace and dignity. We had our chats about his passing beforehand and in the last day I kept up routine and smiles not to burden him with my grief. It was business as usual as far as Walt would be concerned. I am all the better for having such a blessed dog in my life, Vale dear ol Walt - you are and will be sorely missed”.
Indeed you will, sweet Walter. Grateful I had the chance to know you, too, and see the enormity of the love my dear friend C had – and will always have – for you.
Dear Uncle Walter at his 14th birthday party
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