Lizzie. I miss her so much.
Always by my side!
Lottie and her ‘ride’
Full name: Lottie Doreen Bagel Franklin. Likes cheese, leaves and wicker baskets. Dislikes carrots, gates and seatbelts.
I am writing this at our kitchen table on a chilly late October morning. I have made myself a nice strong coffee and the room is quiet except for the [unexpectedly loud] hum of our fancy new fridge and the occasional squeak as our new little dog chews her rubber lizard.
I love this time of year. I usually blog sooner, I think, declaring my love for Autumn and the run up to Christmas. It starts in September, when we get the first proper chill after Summer, and that distinct earthy smell one day that lets us know that Autumn is around the corner.
I am late with things at the moment, though, and it is taking me a while to catch up. Our sweet little dog, Lizzie, died in August. At nearly 13 she was getting old but had shown no real signs of illness until the very last couple of days of her life. Losing her was a shock and it turned it my world upside down.
It seems silly and indulgent to talk about grief in relation to a dog. “Just a dog”. The thing is, she was never just a dog to me. At home she was always by my side; I talked to her constantly, walked her, sat quietly with her and danced around the kitchen holding her in my arms. She comforted me when I was sad and when she wanted a cuddle herself would come and tap me on the arm until I fussed her. She was gentle, friendly and incredibly well-behaved, if a little smelly sometimes.
Whilst it was comforting to know that I had done the right thing by acting quickly on discovering Lizzie’s illness, it is so hard to get used to life without her.
Lottie came to live with us on 16th September when she was 9 weeks old. She is such a character and makes me laugh every day. (She also makes me cry, swear and stress every day, too, but I am trying not to focus on that!) She travels in what I can only describe as a small sports holdall, for pets, and has subsequently developed a penchant for tiny spaces. She pulls out the bottom drawer in our vegetable rack and climbs in, squeezes her fat little bottom under the sofa and on Sunday made a casual leap into the simmering oven of the Aga when I opened it to cook our lamb mince. It’s not an especially hot oven but the floor has a very hot plate which could burn her little paws. I acted remarkably quickly considering my panic, pulling her out by her tail like a furry saucepan. I spent the rest of the evening feeling very shaky and checked her paw pads many, many, times for burns. (She is fine.)
So it is safe to say that Lottie is keeping us on our toes. I accidentally tread on a squeaky toy, making myself jump most days and my hands are dry and chapped from her [incredibly painful] ‘play-bites’. Having had her vaccinations Lottie is able to walk freely outside now and is loving her trots around the village. She has partied hard at the local vet’s puppy gatherings and is responding really well to training. She can sit, lie down and roll over on command (if I am holding a small square of cheese). We are working on stay and drop. Toilet training is hit and miss. We spend ages in the garden, in the icy rain, waiting for her to do her business, only to eventually give in, come indoors and have her immediately pee on the kitchen floor. It is like a battle of the wills and she wins. We need to up our game.
She likes to be held like a baby, on her back, and have her chest tickled. It sends her off to sleep, which is adorable and a very useful trick to know if you can calm her down long enough to lay back!
Of course it makes me cry when I see her sitting at the garden gate, just like Lizzie used to, but it is nice to have a fluffy white reminder of beautiful Lizzie around the house. She is gone but never, ever, forgotten.
After updating you on my biggest news I must crack on and start the day. Advent calendars are starting to ship this week and the October subscriptions need to go out too. Those packages won’t wrap themselves!
Thanks for reading,
love
Nicki xx