The rain began falling before I woke this morning, and continued throughout the day. A steady stream of water from a dark grey sky, turning puddles into lakes, and gutters into streams.
In the minutes before waking I had strange dreams. A neighbour came around to borrow a table - and tipped our dining table on end. Everything on it - plates, glasses, cutlery - crashed to the floor before anybody could stop her. On the green outside our house a celebrity crossed my path while walking a friend’s dog - and asked if I had deleted “that chat” from my phone. I responded “what chat”, which he took to mean I understood. In reality I had no idea what he was talking about.
Back in the real world, the dog in the dream died a few days ago. It seems odd that he is suddenly gone - it hasn’t really hit me yet.
I would take him for walks when his person was absent - providing a welcome break from my day, and a chance to slow down - to just “be”. He was a little deaf, and not as steady on his feet as he once had been, but in a strange sort of way that was his lesson - that you didn’t need to always be in such a bloody hurry. We would walk slowly around the green together - sniffing here, weeing there, weeing a bit more over there, and over there - and stopping occasionally to contemplate whatever it was he was contemplating.
My eldest daughter would accompany me to walk him from time to time - he preferred her over me. He would immediately get up when she entered the room and stumble into her legs - wagging as he did so, and would lead her from the front door and off down the driveway. She suffers enormously with anxiety, and finds the world very difficult some days - I think somehow he knew.
In other news, a cousin half a world away is recovering from an operation today. I called earlier, and listened as she recounted the story of the last few days. I don’t envy her having to re-live it over and over as each concerned person inquires - it must be emotionally exhausting. Maybe I’m projecting myself onto her though - I tend to look forwards as a protection mechanism of sorts.
Perhaps either witnessing an end, or brushing with an end to yourself brings the indecisions we wrestle with into focus. We only get one go at this. Maybe it’s better to be in a bloody hurry after all.
Anyway. It’s getting late.
Time to brush my teeth, collapse into bed, and listen to water dripping from the gutters. And try not to think about things so much.