Life Without Tashi — conclusion
The snakes & ladders of grief
04/07/23 08.04
Day 6 without Tashi. In terms of grief, things have definitely changed. Although I’m still not sleeping well, (waking up tired and too early) I don’t feel overwhelmingly sad anymore. I’ve climbed up a couple of rungs of the ladder.
17.47
It’s not been a bad day. I’ve been in activist mode for some of it and then had long conversations with a client (JD from ‘Don’t Get a Hernia’) and his mortgage company.
JD has known me long enough to know I have — had- a dog as I once had to take a phone call from the vet during an appointment. I told him what happened by way of explaining why I wasn’t in last week. As a former dog owner himself, he just knew. I find that with other pet owners, there are no words that suffice to properly express condolence — we all just know.
It is getting more bearable though. But I hate myself for saying that. Feels wrong.
22.45
Tomorrow will mark 1 week since we lost her. Tonight I’ve thought about the life she had with us. She must have felt the love and the joy reciprocated that she brought to us and filled our home with.
We didn’t want her to suffer and the last few weeks were becoming a struggle for us all. It’s always the letting go part that’s difficult. I guess this is acceptance. Which is OK. I can be grateful that we had her in our lives and I really think I became a better human for it. So thank you, Tashi.
05/07/23 06.56
Week 1 done. A new home environment without Tashi began. It’s survivable. The world kept turning as it does. It won’t ever be the same, but we adapt and move forward, even when sometimes the only thing moving us forward is the inevitable pull of gravity.
08.18
Just arrived at work and realised I forgot to say good morning to Doughnut Bed. Bugger.
17.49
Tea time again. No doggy getting under my feet. Every day it hits home again. It’s like muscle memory — I’m coming down the stairs and glance into the lounge to check she’s OK and of course she’s not there. Same with making the tea. The fact she hasn’t pottered into the kitchen to investigate…that reminder again.
And I don’t burst into tears now because…acceptance. But it still gives me a shove in my memory muscle every time.
My passage through grief requires me to traverse mental peaks and troughs in a quest to make living with the loss more comfortable. From the untenable (I Cannot Live With This Loss At All) to the countenanced (I Can Completely Live With It). That’s the end-to-end journey and I’m neither here not there. I move back and forth, up and down in this journey, in a snakes-and-ladders-esque fashion. Tea-time every day I land on the head of the snake and slide backwards, but not always back to the start now. Tomorrow, I start low again and find intermittent stepladders that will boost me up.
Where am I? I’m at Living With It As Best I Can.
22.57
Missed her big time tonight. A photo came up of her on my phone, in my arms having a great big cuddle. She looked happy, as did I.
Damn, I’d give anything for one more big fat snuggle with her.
I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. And then I’m not and it hits me like a body blow again. Then I’m fine again.
Backward step, forward step. Ebb and flow. Snakes and ladders.
Off to hug the doughnut. Good night.
11/07/23 08.30
It just came to me.
I wasn’t going to add to this until I received Tashi’s ashes back but for some reason this bubble of understanding floated to the surface and I understood how Tashi, in a way only a dog could, helped me in 2019.
Every day, when I was being told how shitty a human being I was (and it’s so easy to believe that when you are used to not thinking much of yourself), there was this little dog making a choice - every day - between Him and me.
And every day, Tashi chose me. It was me she slept beside each night, not Him.
That gave me the sense that I really couldn’t be all that bad. Because dogs know. That’s how I clung on.
The 5 stages of grief are apparently these:
The only 2 of those I have experienced are depression and acceptance.
I was never angry, didn’t bargain and didn’t deny.
My ‘stages’ were:
- Pain (first 72 hours thereabouts – weight loss, insomnia, tears by the glacier-load)
- Clinginess (continuous – photos, videos, keepsakes)
- Depression (around 1 week)
- Apathy (about 5 days)
- Acceptance/coming to terms with it (instant/continuous)
No moving from one stage to another for me, rather 2 or 3 stages shifting concurrently, phasing in and out.
14/7/23
She’s home. And it doesn’t really help. I don’t know why I thought it would, but I did, and it hasn’t.
16/07/2023 22.42
God I miss her.
18/07/2023 23.14
It’s amazing how much you can long to ruffle fur, scratch behind ears, rub a warm tummy, do it for slightly too long and get a warning growl. It’s painful tonight.
I’m thinking about her. And I find myself time and again being transported back to that morning in the vets, feeling her body relax for the last time. Gone. Why do our brains/minds do this to us, the self-sabotaging bastards?!
I lost a friend just before Christmas. A friend I worked with. Another colleague and I were talking about him today – when the heart beats its last, does the energy and the soul simply shift in form? Free of the vessel that carried it? Where does it go?
It doesn’t really matter. It’s not here now. Tomorrow it will be 3 weeks since Tashi left us and although life inevitably goes on, I feel that loss almost constantly. Sometimes I sleep.
I watched a press conference on TV earlier, of a man who spent 2 months cast adrift at sea with his dog, Bella, before they were rescued. The way he spoke of his dog was very telling. That unbreakable bond. The unconditional love flowing equally both ways. It’s marvellous to have experienced it. The pain of loss mirrors the joy she brought to us.
Goodnight x
20/072023 08.07
The first framed photo arrived yesterday. The canvas collage should arrive later on. The house is already better for it.
20/07/2023 22.45
The other collage arrived today. One of the photos was the wrong way up.
So I got on the webchat to tell them and they apologised and offered me credit for another collage canvas, same size, to replace the faulty one.
I asked if they wanted the faulty one back and they said no.
Shame to waste it when all the other photos are perfect. So I painted over the wrong’un and will put a paw print in its place.
Had a good chat with my son, remembering what was happening when we took the photos and how she looks just like an Ewok in one of them. This is so much better than ashes in a tube. It’s warm and full of love, whereas the ashes feel a little bit…strange. But it’s still her so we keep them too.
21/07/2023 20.46
There we go. My paw print’s a bit rough but I like it. Main middle photo is the Ewok. All the Tashis are here: daft, snow Tashi, handful of puppy Tashi, fluffy paws Tashi, happy cuddle Tashi, cute button eyes Tashi, mad eye Tashi, Tashi the Wise and shameless belly rub Tashi.
She was a hell of a dog/bear/Ewok. I refuse to get over her.
Bottom line is this. I loved her. Her being in the world made everything bearable and I’m just adrift without her, but that’s OK. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s a new thing I have to get to grips with. It’s a challenge. [Edited to add: who am I kidding? It’s shit without her but it’s still OK and I’ve much to be grateful for.]
One day, I will find another dog and I’ll do the whole thing again if I’m lucky.
For now, I will keep moving up and down the snakes and ladders, healing as I go, hugging the doughnut when I need to.
To anyone who has lost a pet or a human... all the love. We keep them in our hearts forever, so really, they are always with us.
❤️
