The clock in my kitchen stopped today.
Time stood still for the time that Connie died. Connie was my mum and dad’s dog and she had become quite ill in the last few days and had to be put down late last week.
I found out while I was at work and it was a little bit hard to carry on as though nothing had happened.
I felt very close to Connie and her death day should also be a rembering day for the dog she was.
Dogs are an important part of many of our lives but unfortunately they’re only here for such a short amount of time. Then you get attached to it, it gets old and dies.
Why are dogs here for such a short time?
“People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?” The Six-year-old continued,
”Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”
I got to know Connie fairly well over the years even though she lived around two hours away and we didn’t see her that often.
She spent some time with us when Dad had his stroke five years ago and was in hospital and rehab for two months. As Connie was quite little, I had to make sure the little escape holes around the backyard were filled in as she could squeeze through and when I found her under my car hiding one day, and the wrong side of the gate it freaked me out.
She was great around people but put her in front of a dog she didn’t know she could be a bit vicious. In fact a friend nicknamed her Killer Connie. This was probably more to do with an ironic take on dimunitive stature than her personality, but either way it kind of fitted.
She had the typical small dog syndrome. At the park one day I let her off the lead and she ran straight up to a much much larger dog barking at it. I don’t think she realised that this dog could have swallowed her as if she were a seed. Luckily that didn’t happen.
Even though she came to stay with her bedding, which was placed right near Monty’s, she would always take Monty’s much bigger bed. One time Connie was on Monty’s bed, and Monty tried to squeeze up onto Connie’s. That’s what’s great about Monty – she’s very giving like that.
Connie was a great lap dog and the only dog that comes to stay here that’s allowed on the couch any more. It probably helps that she didn’t moult like my other doggy resident and guests do. Mind you, Monty isn’t capable of hopping up onto the couch these days. I had to carry her down some stairs yesterday, but that story is for another time.
But while we’re on the subject of other dogs, even though Connie wasn’t very well socialised with stranger dogs, she got on well with her doggy pals like Monty who she’s known nearly all her life. Also, she got on well with my sister’s dog which was just as well as both Monty and my sister’s dog spent time at Connie’s house on occasion.
I’ve never been a fan of little lap type dogs but Connie totally changed that for me. She was gorgeous and I’m going to miss her.
The clock in the kitchen started again two hours later, but only lasted for another couple of hours before it stopped again. I had to replace the battery. Time ticks on.