Tony would have been so proud of me last week. I took the punches but kept the temper in check. He used to say I fought first and thought later. I would rant and rave whilst he calmly stood there (probably watching the footie over my shoulder) until I stopped. Then he would pull me in for a hug against that gorgeous, warm chest of his. God, I miss that chest. But I miss not having someone to diffuse my pent up frustration and anger more, someone who would kiss and make it better.
I went to see the doctor about a pain in my elbow that, I have to admit, I’d been ignoring because I didn’t want to stop grooming. The doctor basically dismissed me, saying it was nerve pain because I had an old injury in my shoulder. I mean, she dismissed me in under two minutes saying a physio would sort it out. I felt patronised and annoyed. Then my mother in law berated me, saying my previous blog implied she was fat. I didn’t know she hadn’t heard of that song. She isn’t by the way. And to cap it all, my beloved Land Rover got broken into. Nothing was taken but I felt so violated. I took the punches, ranted and raved to the sky but didn’t lose my rag. The Scorpio’s sting was curbed, I amaze myself sometimes.
Danny Boy and Arry had a rare fight. Although it lasted less than a minute, it was enough for Danny to require stitches in his leg. Yet as soon as they stopped the scrap, they touched noses and forgot about whatever had set them off in the first place. Dogs are funny like that.
I think I’m starting to learn how to do this thing on my own. It’s easy to hate the unfairness of all that cancer bitch took from you but, let’s face it, what good would temper do? Can we change the past? No. Should we shout at the moment? Probably. Can we predict the future? Perhaps. My hurt and frustration at not having a sound board when needed isn’t going to help me get on with this widowhood thing. I tried doing the mindfulness stuff but my brain just doesn’t switch off and Tony’s relaxation breathing technique made me cough. I’d take up yoga if I could stay still long enough. But this Scorpio is rising in the right direction though me thinks, she just needs to keep the claws at bay.
A friend of mine is trying to persuade me to go on a TV programme called ‘First Dates’. She thinks I might find an equally batty dog person. Now I don’t have a face for the screen, my nose is broken and I have a gap in my back teeth. Bless Alex, she said I was being ridiculous and my cheekbones are lovely apparently. I was relaying this conversation to one of Tony’s best friends who also said I was being ridiculous; “Don’t be silly Soph” he said, “they take all sorts”. I love Phil, he knows how to make a girl laugh…..
Widow plus woofs 