Regrets

 

So, she died. Last year, on 26 June at a quarter to midnight, she slipped out of my hands and went to join the others at the Rainbow Bridge. And except for a single book announcement for a friend, this blog has been dark ever since.

She tried so hard to live, Emily did. She fought and she struggled, but that last day when she was failing, crashing, at the end of her endurance, the medical help we needed was denied us. A young English vet at the CARE clinic in Collingwood refused even to examine her. The operation that would have saved her was scheduled for Monday morning, and all she needed was massive antibiotics and a drip, to sustain her for it. And yes, this has been confirmed by our own vet, who as ill chance would have it, was out of town and stuck with his car disabled.

So there's a lot of regret there for me. If only I'd acted sooner. If I hadn't waited to be sure she could cope well on three legs. If I hadn't waited for the lockdown but just gone on down to the city and accepted that we might be stuck there for months. If, if, if. I lost my precious girl, and nothing, nothing will ever be really right again.

But I have another regret now, and one that could have been more easily avoided. Just weeks after Emily died, I was offered the pick of a litter from one of Australia's top breeders. And although it was too soon, after much havering I said yes, because I knew it was what Emily would have wanted. And in October, I brought home my new puppy. Chips, I call him. That's from something with Emily. I always felt that I was at last giving her the puppy she'd always wanted. The first thing I did when I got him home was to take him to her graveside and show him to her.

But because I was still grieving, and it was so soon, I never posted much about him on social media. I always held back, because I was afraid people would condemn me for 'moving on' with such ease, and I wasn't strong enough to face a storm of condemnation from my friends. I've come to see how stupid this was. No one, no one whom I consider a friend, would have thought the least thing wrong. I was an idiot, I accept that.

But I'm left with the results of it. For years, over my morning coffee I've scrolled through my Facebook memories, seeing the joys and sorrows. But now, when Chips is almost grown up, there are no Chips memories on Facebook. It's still all Emily. And of course I love to see the Emily memories, but there should have been some of Chips. And there have been so many wonderful memories already. We've even been on two road trips together. One day I am going to regret this even more bitterly than I do now. 

So my message today is this. Don't hold back because of how you think you will be judged by the community. It's almost certainly all in your head, some shit you've made up because you were unhappy and not seeing clearly.