The last week has been, for want of a better description, an emotional merry-go-round. It’s also been a rare one in that I haven’t been the focus of my attention which has been strangely relaxing. And I survived two plane journeys to France and back. Life over the last seven days belonged to the 3 F’s; friends, family and familiarity.
One of the many wonderful things about having friends like mine is being persuaded to do something you wouldn’t normally think of doing yourself and aren’t entirely convinced you would want to anyway. In this case, it was going to a matinee performance of a musical which I really didn’t feel was my cup of tea. I wasn’t wrong and thankfully it was short but spending time catching up in a pub over the road was worth the trip ‘up West’. I did however leave the woofers for longer than I intended so was rewarded with an escort to the dog biscuit tin.
I hate flying but I’d do it for family and the chance to catch up with my siblings (a rarity seeing as we live in separate countries) and their add-ons for my Mum’s 80th birthday was a no-brainer. The last time we were together was at Tony’s funeral so good food, too much wine and hilarious reminiscing was the perfect tonic. And since my mum has always been the one we dump all our problems on, seeing how happy and relaxed she was made the ensuing hangover worth it. That and the poignant conversation my sister-in-law had with me about T and his gentleness (her words). Having left the woofers with my trusted dog sitter, I made it home 48 hours later and once again was frog marched to the biscuit tin. Considering dogs are supposed to give unconditional love, I was beginning to feel my lot had their priorities skewed.
Yesterday was a toughie, Keith’s funeral. It was a beautiful tribute to an incredible and, judging by the packed church, very very popular man. Even the taxi driver who dropped us off commented on the number of guests waiting to go into the service. Having worked with Keith and his many vets and nurses for so long, familiar faces lined the pews and I felt a sense of belonging sitting amongst those who had helped carve my career for over 20 years. Keith was so much more than a vet to us, he was a friend. After another round of reminiscing and reunions, I once again returned home, emotionally wrung out and exhausted after the week’s whizzing about. Expecting the usual response to their Mistress’ return, I have to hand it to the woofers bless them. They greeted me as if I had suddenly gained celebrity status, tails wagging and bodies pushing to get the first cuddle. After a week of love, laughter and tears, it’s comforting to know the 3 F’s exist in my woofers world too. Biscuit tin forgotten, Mum was back and that was all that mattered….for a few minutes anyway.
” If you get to thinking you’re a person of some influence, try ordering somebody else’s dog around” (Anon)
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Widow plus woofs 