Goodbye Riley.

Today was the day I had to make the hardest decision a pet owner has to make and I said one final goodbye to my amazing dog, Riley. I knew this day was coming as he was now 13 and he had health issues, but he had been going so well. I had hoped that he would get to his ‘adoption’ anniversary at the end of the month but his body knew different and my hand was forced by circumstance.

You’ve heard it all before from other grieving pet owners, but I can honestly say that no pet has ever had such an impact in my life than that of Riley. From the moment I saw his face in the online advertisement I knew he was mine. I just didn’t comprehend how deeply his presence would change me from the person I was when I bought him.

Riley, through his own personality, taught me to be confident, brave and unafraid.

You see……. Riley was a dude.

Riley was a little dog with a big personality but he was not arrogant or cocky. Everybody who met him loved and admired him.

No collar and lead for this man. He didn’t need it and as a matter of fact, when he was required to be on lead his whole persona was different. Riley walked the streets like he owned them. Just a couple of feet ahead of me, but never afraid of what was ahead of him and never intimidated by any dog he met on his walk. Without my even being aware of it, this is precisely what I needed to learn about life and myself.

Riley was never a clingy “Hold me! Pat me!” dog but he was always by my side. Sitting on the couch, he had to be beside me. Not ON me, beside me. Having a shower, he’d be waiting outside the shower screen, on the bath mat, for me to exit. Going to the toilet he’d be propped at my feet. Bedtime, sleeping right next to me from the first day he arrived. If I was sad or unwell his solid presence was something I could always rely on.

The number of times I’ve turned around and nearly fallen flat on my face because he was right behind me. And I tell you, now that I’m in my fifties I have often wondered if I’d be one of those women who breaks her hip tripping over her dog. Writing this now, without his body pressed against my feet and his snores vibrating the computer desk is breaking my heart. The lack of him is achingly present.

Fortunately, I still have Almond. I know she senses that something is not right. Matthew and I went out today with her buddy Riley but he didn’t come home with us. And Riley wasn’t there when she had dinner. But Almond brought me a perfect dose of reality as she waded through a deep, muddy puddle this afternoon. Nothing like being required to bath a muddy, smelly dog to make you know you’re alive.

The next few days are going to be hard and I’ll probably cry a lot, but never, for a single moment, would I ever consider NOT owning a dog or having a pet because of the likelihood of having to experience this absolute sense of loss again.

Loss is part of love and I loved my boy Riley with all my heart. For eleven years he has been my main man.

And now he’s gone.

And there’s a big hole in my heart.

Goodbye my Riley dog.

I miss you.

We miss you.

 

Made me ponder.

How incredible and terrifying to hear a 22 year old person say that the thing they were most proud of was the fact that they were still alive.

My heart stopped for a moment because I had, just moments before, watched this young person perform in front of a couple of hundred people so confidently and passionately.

This beautiful, passionate, creative, strong, dynamic and captivating being had almost given up on everything numerous times in their short life.

It breaks my heart to think that there are so many people who, after years of inner torment, decide that not ‘being’ is their only choice. Young or old, the agony of living is more than they can cope with.

I don’t know why, who or how the help needed arrived for this individual, I can only be grateful that it did because there were some wonderfully thought-provoking moments during the performance on Thursday night. These were moments that were made to be expressed by this artist. They were hers and hers alone.

It’s not your time just yet.

Last Tuesday morning I awoke to the realisation that this might be your last day with me and my mind became numb. You were not well. You hadn’t been ‘right’ for a while, but I explained it to myself as simply old age creeping up on you. But suddenly the creep had become a race and I knew that I needed to take you to the vet to see what, if anything, could be done.

Avoiding the inevitable had become the norm. I was a bad owner. Yes, your ability to see had diminished to the point where I was sure that you only saw shadows and your back legs were beginning to give way…….. but you were happy. You were still eating and drinking and following me around as you always had.

To be brutally honest, I didn’t want to hear what the vet might have to say.

However, I could no longer avoid the truth. You needed to be seen by the vet. Those back legs that had been giving way over time had deteriorated rapidly and this morning they were almost not able to hold you up. You looked afraid and suddenly very old.

As the minutes ticked away I became acutely aware that this might be the last time I talked with you, the last time I rubbed your velvety, black ears, the last time I looked into your beautiful, if now unseeing, brown eyes.

I had to take your photo.

With tears in my eyes I swapped lenses on my camera. It may sound ridiculous to non-photographers, but you needed and deserved the 50mm f1.8. If these were going to be my final images of you they had to be done properly and a prime lens is the only way to do you justice.

We went to the vet. The news was not good. You have spinal degeneration and the nerves to you lower back and hind legs have been severely compromised. The options were almost non-existent. You could have X-rays to assess the extent of the damage but they might not show everything. You could have a CAT scan, but again that might be inconclusive. Because of your age spinal surgery is not an option.

I was faced with two options. We could try anti-inflammatory medication or I stood by your side as we sent you to the Rainbow Bridge.

I’m a realist. I know that you are old. Your thirteenth birthday is but a few months away. That’s a good age for a dog. But it’s not time for you to go. Not yet.

So anti-inflammatory meds it is.

Within 24 hours your condition had improved 1000%. You haven’t become a puppy again, but you are able to stand and walk more confidently. It is true that your brain is telling you to turn left but your back legs are a few seconds late in getting the message, but that doesn’t matter. You are happier and my fears for you have been allayed……for the time being.

It is a day by day scenario, Riley dog. I know you won’t be with me for all that much longer, but it’s not your time to go. Not this week.

I won’t let you suffer. I won’t prolong your life out of selfishness. I will look after you until I know that the time to say goodbye is upon us. Until then I will continue to cook your food, pick up your poop and listen to your gentle snores as you sleep on the spare pillow next to me.

You’re my main man. You’re not leaving me yet.

I can tie a tie?

When did I learn how to tie a man’s tie? Was it my mother or my father who showed me many, many, many moons ago.

How is it that I instinctively knew what I was doing?

I have been a single woman for most of my adult life. The requirement for me to tie a neck-tie is, and has been, almost non-existent yet there I stood in front of my adult son tying a proper ‘Simple knot’ around his neck.

There was no hesitation or indecision on the part of my hands. I’m sure that it took me less than fifteen seconds to have it done and securely placed at the opening of his collar.

How is it possible to have muscle memory for a task you have done less than ten times in your life? Add into the equation the fact that I had just walked in the door and I had no prior warning that I was going to be expected to tie a tie which meant therefore no time to hit up Google for an online tutorial.

I’ll simply have to own it. I’m bloody amazing.

It’s always the people

It’s always the people.

It’s always the people.

It’s always the people.

Whenever I go out with my camera I invariably come home with a photo of a person that I’m so very proud of. I have been on paid, professionally-tutored landscape experiences and my favourite shot of the day is of some random person who I happened to spy walking by.

I am drawn to people. They make my world go ’round. I need them to enrich my day.

I would be the person who would go completely insane locked in solitary confinement with no human interaction offered to me.

My need for communication of any sort with other human beings is compulsive.

People fascinate me.

Every single one of us has a story to tell. Stories of great happiness, soul-destroying tragedy, love, hate, music, words, laughter, food, smells, experiences.

Newborns have a story. It’s in their eyes. Their promise. The shock of their forced arrival into this unknown universe. Their trust. The stories of the lives they have lived before this new one.

The older the person, the more there is to tell. Sometimes what they tell you is the story of what they did not do. Those are the regret tales. Those are the saddest tales of all.

I’m not going to have those tales. I’m going to do the things that I want to. I’m going to devour the experiences that his life has to offer me.

Because it’s all about the people.

 

A wee bit wilted I was.

I may have woken up this morning feeling a tiny bit less than perky.  Who’d have thought that a night full of fun and frivolity could make one feel so wane and wilted the next morning?

All I can say is that I thank my lucky stars that I do not consume alcoholic or other recreational substances or I would be a hell of a lot worse off than a wee bit wilted. (I would probably still be in bed, or laying on the couch in my pyjamas)

What I did do last night was dance in a club where the dance-floor was so crowded that you were pressing the flesh on all sides. It was hot, sweaty, carnal and bloody awesome. I honestly felt as though I has stepped onto the set of ‘Queer as Folk’ and I was at Babylon. And the gorgeous man who had taken me there was my very own ‘Brian’.

I cannot believe the experiences I am having. First times and bucket-list adventures or challenges that I figured were never going to happen to me are happening. A lot of these moments I wasn’t even aware that I wanted to do. Which does sound a bit absurd that I am calling them bucket-list items if they weren’t even on my list……..

However, I don’t have a bucket-list. I am not entirely sure why I don’t when so many others do. I guess it is because I don’t want to have a list of things that I hope for but potentially never get to realise. How terrible to have a list that you want but never see happen? Imagine being the husband, wife, children or friend of someone who dies and discovering that person’s bucket-list with nothing crossed off and achieved. It’s a bit like having a five or ten-year plan where you spend all your energy trying to achieve the goals set out in that plan and you don’t allow for the curve balls that life throws at you or you miss some real opportunities because you are so intent on the plan.

No. Not for me. I had plans. Did that when I was young. Achieved those plans. What were they worth?…………nothing. Was I living life? No. It was all about the plan.

My life is going better now than it has ever gone in all its fifty years.

The best direction for me is the unplanned. I get to experience opportunity at every turn and I am open to whatever presents itself before me. And if that happens to be dancing  at a gay club till 2am and my clothes and skin are dripping with sweat ………..

So what if I wake up a wee bit wilted the next morning? Nothing a litre or two of water and a couple of Panadol can’t fix.

 

Treading a new path

There is a time in one’s life when you just have to say……”Fuck it!!”

The time when you realise that the way you have been travelling, the way you have been living your life and the things you have been doing are no longer working for you and you have to make some changes. These don’t necessarily have to be big changes, but they are shifts in your outlook.

Oftentimes these changes are thrust upon you by an event or a comment. Some people call these comments tough love, but I’m not so sure how much actual love is involved. I think these people just like to see what sort of reaction they get from their ‘victim’ even though the victim knows that the words are truth.

And there are the times when a seemingly random series of events have you re-evaluating everything you are doing as suddenly something exciting and new beckons. A shift in your direction that you absolutely did not see coming.

Currently I am in the midst of a time of incredible change and unforeseen opportunity. What was, and is, a hobby has opened the door to possibilities I could never have imagined a few years ago. And what is perhaps even more amazing is that I have stopped running in fear from these possibilities and concepts. I am grabbing them with both hands and drawing them to me.

Not only that, I am actively putting myself into situations where possibility can find me!!

I don’t really understand why this is happening to me now. It’s not my job to ask the question ‘why?’ All I have to do is accept everything that is evolving, because it is not bad……… It’s bloody brilliant.

So I’m treading a new path. The other one was pretty worn from me going over the same bit of land time and time again.

On this path the grass is still green and the ground soft and cushioned underfoot. This path is full of light and fresh air. You can smell the purity of it.

And though I have no idea exactly where this path is taking me, for the first time in my life I am not afraid of the unknown. I will tread confidently and bravely, feeling safe in the knowledge that I know that everything is going just as it should be.

Don’t ask me how I know. I just know.

Wisdom or blatantly obvious?

 

 

to allow the new

one must discard the old

 

Worn out?

Worn out? Burnt out? No longer looking our best? Yep.

This rose and I have an awful lot in common tonight. We have both seen better days. We are both looking more than a little tired and I’m sure that this rose is suffering from a headache and stiff neck as it tries to show the world that it is not quite ready for the pruning shears.

I wonder what caused this bloom to look so ragged. Was it a case of too much sun or was it a frost that caused the delicate petals to burn and wrinkle?

I know what caused me to whither and ache and unfortunately it is not something that can be rectified with sunscreen and/or protection from the elements.

The key to opportunity or is opportunity the key?

I’m grateful that I have the chance to learn something new every time I sit down at my computer, go to work, talk to somebody or venture out into this big wide world of ours.

I am incredibly grateful that I am open to new ideas and opportunities which allow me the avenue to learn. And I am open to these new thoughts and adventures.

I’ve used the word opportunity an awful lot recently. I noticed when I wrote the word tonight that I feel that I have been using it quite regularly. I feel as though it has become my ‘word’ of late.

It is because there has been so much going on in my life over the past eight months. Like I have risen from a long hibernation and am ravenous, wanting to devour everything in my path and needing to see what I have missed out on as I slept.

It has been eight months of new people, new places, new foods, new emotions and most importantly, new attitude.

Is it the what came first debate: the chicken or the egg? Is my attitude the key to these opportunities that are coming my way or are the opportunities the key to my attitude? Or are they so closely aligned that neither could have happened without the other?

As to why it has taken this bloody long for me to finally start to live my life to the full I will probably never know, but I steadfastly refuse to regret the years of physical and emotional hibernation that was my life. Those years, and my age, enable me to truly appreciate what is happening to me right now. What I would regret is not grabbing the chances, experiences and opportunities that are being dangled enticingly in front of me.