I have held back from writing this blog post and in working out why, I realise that, to publish it, makes this post real and final.
I don't want that to be.
But it is.
It has been such a heartbreaking time, as my lovely Lucy passed over on the 15th September. It happened so quickly. Her health declined in one week, she was diagnosed with a dynamic heart murmur on Fri 7th September.
By Sat 15th she had gone.
It turned out that the murmur was not caused by heart disease but by tumours. Now I look back and see that she had been dealing with the changes in her body and yet, there were no outward signs, up until Wed 5th when all night I was kept awake by her shallow breathing and I took her to an emergency vet as we were in Dorset. On returning to Liverpool I took her for a second opinion to the Vet where I had taken her when she was a wee one, before the partners split and I made the choice to go with the other partner.
|Lucy was attacked by a Japanese Akita when she was 14 weeks old and ended up having surgery to remove a stomach tear. I guess I am exceptionally lucky to have had my life with Lucy all these years when it could have been a whole different scenario.|
I am getting some comfort from writing about Lucy - she was my child, we had gone through so much together, 14 years of joy - all joy. I haven't been fortunate enough to have children in my life, Lucy was that baby and young child. She helped me through getting over my divorce, she moved with me everywhere, she made me get up in the morning, she came everywhere with me, my heart smiled when I was with her, and beamed when I knew I was going home to her. I sang her my own little songs and had my own language with her. She knew what I was saying and I knew what she was saying.
We talked daily.
We heard her each other.
I have never told anyone this.
Not having her with me, physically, has blasted me open.
Since last June, when Lucy suffered from the Vestibular Attack, I have given her Reiki healing on a daily basis and the night before she passed, I spent all night with my hands gently placed in front of her, giving her Reiki and communicating with her.
"I love you so much Lucy, it's alright if you need to go, Lucy"
"We've had such good times together, you'll always be in my heart"
"Let me know you're ok, come back and tell me?"
These past 2 weeks, I have written many words and cried lots of tears. I know this will pass, I know that I will love another, but I won't love another Lucy because she was just uniquely cheeky and loving all wrapped up in an adorable furry package.
Her dying is symbolic for a time in my life that has ended.
It is symbolic for a new period in my life without her and what that means.
Losing her has reminded me of something, stirring within me.
Something I need to sit with for the next few weeks.
A week after Lucy passed, I left for work at 7.45, there's a tree outside our home on the wide paved area - Lucy loved this tree, we call it "Lucy's tree". She always stopped here before we went anywhere else to do her wee, checking out the neighbourhood news.
As I closed the front door behind me, a squirrel ran across the road and up the tree, about 3 feet, stopped, and looked at me, climbed up a little more, looked at me (I was standing sooooo still, looking at the squirrel) and then, with that, mr squirrel ran down the tree and back over the road.
In the 6 and half years living here, there has never been a squirrel up that tree.
Ok, maybe I'm looking into this, but I feel that this is a sign that Lucy is ok, and somehow she wanted me to know that. Lucy spent the majority of her life chasing squirrels, up trees. She never caught one, but she loved chasing them.
All I had to say was
"Lucy, there's Cyril. Look!"
And she was off.
So Mr Squirrel had a message for me.
Thank you Cyril.
|L-R Lucy aged 3, 8, 9 & 11|
I have thousands of photos of Lucy of these past 14 years and these past 5, there's tonnes of video too... I love watching them, I feel close to her.
I know this past year I have recorded so much more, because somewhere inside of me, I knew that our time was precious.
I'll do something with them, if just for myself to go and meet with her, when I want to.
I have just found this of Lucy in May 2012. We had a couple of beautiful weeks here in UK and I took Lucy somewhere she loved, Calderstones Park, it had a pond, and lots to explore. Looking at her here, jumping on the tree logs, you wouldn't think there's something brewing. But there was.
|A month after her Vestibular, her 13th birthday|
|The day before Lucy passed over, age 14 years 2 months.|
You'll always be with me Lucy. This quote has meant alot to me recently:
"It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them.
And every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart.
If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be dog,
and I will become as generous and loving as they are."