Tag Archives: death

animals, life, memories, Shiny

Musings

My heart is still very sore over the loss of my Macky-Moo. But it’s now an ache that sits quietly and doesn’t make me feel like I’m going to burst into ugly tears at any moment. It’s a bittersweet ache.

I’ve been thinking a lot about life, about death, about the circle of things. I’ve always liked the symbol of the circle. Infinity. Life, Death, Life. Things carry on, whether we want them to or not. We can’t stop time. We can’t stop the world. We can’t step off and wait until our heart feels less broken, or our mind catches up with us after a trauma, or while we catch our breath and try and get a grasp on WHAT just HAPPENED?!. The Earth keeps spinning. Mother Earth.

I’ll die one day too. This thought used to terrify me when I was younger. Much younger. I thought about these things when I was a very young girl. Especially after losing a member of my family, whether they were human or animal. I could dwell on it for days. A dark cloud settling over me. Because I was such a solitary child, I don’t think anyone really noticed. Which is fine. That’s the way I wanted it. I didn’t like to talk about the way it made me feel. I could talk about it now, I suppose, but years of keeping it all inside make me loathe to start doing that.

Now, being older with more life experience under my belt and knowing that I’m a survivor and that I am stronger than I appear (outside and inside) the thought of Death simply makes me sad – leaving behind the ones I love: human and animal. Not having done the things I wanted to. Said the things I wanted to. I’m not scared of dying itself. I’m scared of what follows. Not for me, but for the people I leave behind. What makes me feel small is that the world WILL continue turning. The Earth will carry on without me (for the moment) and my energy will go … somewhere…. but I have no control over that. I think THAT is what scared/scares me. The way Death takes over and you no longer control anything. Even if you never really controlled anything.

cropped-20150308_085839.jpg

So after losing Macky, I’ve been dwelling. Thinking. And I’ve been trying, desperately, to live in the Present. For me. For my dogs. For life in general. For the Universe, Mother Earth, The Goddess – whatever you want to call that overwhelming force that binds us all together – so that I don’t go weakly, but I do go calmly, serenely, without TOO many regrets.

With this new thought pattern and attitude comes a curiosity (caused by a dream I had) to explore new ideas. Or old ideas, as the case may be.

The Moon. I’m drawn to it and always have been. Now, I am trying to be more aware of the Moon. Of how I feel at what point in the Cycle it is. I am a woman. I am attuned to the moon. I want to see where I go from here.

The cry of a crow. When you least expect it.

animals, life, memories, photography, relationships

Connected

2 Comments

I have been thinking about one of my dogs back home, Macky (aka Moo – he was Moo long before I met you, Michelle-Moo) quite a lot the last few days, in between my strange dreams about crows and the full moon and being tattooed with black feathers (and a sudden urge to read about old Goddesses and mythology) and carrying a sword.

And a few minutes ago, I found out why he had been on my mind. He passed away today, around 3pm. At the time I was walking my dogs I think and I felt a strange lethargy and I felt quite sad… but I put it down to low blood sugars and that afternoon drop.

My mum sent me a message and let me know and said that the vet (he’s been our vet for over 30 years – pretty much all our animals have gone to him) said that we had done all we could and that it was time for Macky to head over the rainbow bridge. Free from pain and fear (he was blind and mostly deaf and spent a lot of the time not knowing where he was or if he was alone or in company – so he would whine and pant and worry) and anxiety, and bouncing around like he used to in fields of green, chasing a soccer ball (his favourite toy) or sniffing things and swimming and playing and meeting other dogs and walking with them. He was the unofficial Greeter of the 10 ‘o’clock Strollers (a group of us who used to walk our dogs every morning around 1000, or much earlier, especially in summer) and he made sure that every new dog, and even returner Strollers, felt welcome and part of the family.

I will miss my little Moo a great deal – he was a very special dog. I know people say that of all their animals (and I know I say that of mine) but he was truly special. After the horrible start to life he had, his positive outlook on life and happy go lucky attitude never failed to make my heart warm.

He was around 14 years old (maybe older – we’re not sure as he was a rescue with a hard past, as I said) and he had a good long, happy run of life. It still hurts, obviously, but he filled his days with happiness and curiosity and love of life and it was kinda contagious.  Being around Macky was like being around joy on four legs with a curly floofy tail.  You couldn’t be unhappy when you were with the Moo.

 

He leaves behind one of his best friends, Mardi Gras, who took an instant shine to him the moment they met, and that was what made the decision about who we adopted after his previous beloved pack (Molly and Mishka) passed away. She will mourn. Like we will.

Farewell my handsome lad. My little Moo. My little Prince Mackintyre.

 

animals, life, military, people

I saved a life

So on the way to the vet at lunch time, I heard a cat crying. I searched around and found that one of the Kitten Trio (the strays I feed. Betty’s babies) had fallen through the tiny windows into the locked storage room of one of the apartments.

The tiny kitten couldn’t jump up high enough to get out and had been there the whole day. I couldn’t recall if I saw her yesterday or last night, so she might have been there longer, but I hadn’t heard her crying until today.

As I was late already for the vet, I asked my neighbour to call the housing department (which she did, and they said they would “send someone right over”) I also flagged down a passing housing van and asked them what they could do – which was nothing, but they said THEY had called someone as well.

When the girls and I eventually got back from the vet, I checked on the kitten… she was still there. And, upon shoving my head into the tiny window, I discovered the poor deceased old black cat. He was a scruffy old man, with a wonky leg, which is probably why _he_ couldn’t jump out the window either. 🙁 He’d been dead a while. He was smelly, and … flat. I only hope that the fall killed him, and not starvation. I’d never heard him make a noise, so I don’t know if he’d ever called like the little kitten. Maybe he thought nobody would come even if he did. He was a loner. A true survivor. He had made it so far on his own. A sad, tired, silent end to a rough, tough soul. I said a little farewell to him, silently.

I called various housing departments and didn’t get hold of anyone – they’d all gone home or where not bothering to answer as it was nearly 17:30 and way passed their work day’s end. I then called the MP desk – non emergency of course. I leave that for last because USUALLY there’s so much paperwork to go with a call out of the MP’s that nobody wants to get in touch with them! But thankfully, in this case (non-human related) there was none. Or, there was none that I had to fill in. I spoke to a SGGT Luke and he was VERY helpful (and he’s probably the type of guy who filled in all the paperwork without bothering me about it)

He couldn’t get hold of housing either, to get the key to the storage room. But then, by chance, I actually MET the new neighbour who was moving in to the apartment that belonged to that storage room! So when the MP arrived, I told him that we should speak to the young gentleman in that apartment. WHich we did, and he was also VERY helpful, and I in turned helped HIM to find his correct storage unit (the Housing representative also went to the wrong storage room when he showed the young man around and the key didn’t work in it – which is what our new neighbour told me when he handed it over to us)

The kitten, BC or Brave Cat as I call her, at first was too scared to even leave the corner she had squashed herself into (As far from the dead body of the old cat as she could get) and as I edged closer (because I wasn’t sure which one of the trio it was, at first) she did hiss a bit and raise her hackles at me, but then I spoke to her, and showed her the open can of her favourite food and she searched my face (I had my hat on, so she wasn’t sure at first) and she recognised me and got up and first thing she did was head-boop me on the hand and the knee and then she dived in to the food. She was so hungry (and so relaxed now that she knew it was me) she let me pick her up, wrapped in a towel (just in case) while she scoffed the food up. She then purred happily and rubbed her face against mine a few times.

I carried her outside and around to where her little siblings waited for her. I put the rest of the food out for her, and some milk and she gobbled it up, barely noticing when I left the area.

Then I returned to the storage room, after gathering two trash bags and some gloves from my apartment (the dogs were very confused, poor things) and SSGT Luke and I collected poor dead, Old Cat. Even SSGT Luke was saddened by the situation. Poor dear cat.

I made sure the window was tightly shut, so this didn’t happen again, and SSGT Luke said he would get housing to sort out cleaning up the rest of the mess in the room.

I thanked him for his help and he thanked me for sorting it out and taking care of the animals and we went on our way.

I said another silent farewell to Old Cat.