Its been a year today since we lost Lucky.  That difficult last journey on that awful day she closed her eyes for the last time and letting her go was like ripping my insides out.  And it still is.  She was cruelly robbed by lung cancer.  She didn’t deserve that, we knew her for 2 of her 9 years, she passed on her 2nd birthday with us.  I truly wish I’d have known her longer.  I’ve lost pets before, but the absolute loss of Lucky, perhaps because she was my first dog as an adult, one that we chose to live with, is different.  Maybe it’s because its hard every time.  I’ve always had cats and dogs, always will, such an integral part of my life, but its a different relationship with a dog and the saying that a dog is mans best friend has never run truer.  Its closer, a special bond, one that I miss.  Those who have never suffered pet loss, never had the joy of a companion, can never understand.  She’s never far from my thoughts, but I’m scared that my memory of her will fade.

Those memories, the little things, like her getting excited for walkies, those special words you used to get her excited, even the slightest mention of it.  How she would take a mouth full of dog biscuits and chuck ’em all over the floor and then eat them up one by one, the way she tipped her head back when she wanted to play, weeping eyes, pinching cheese off the table, her refusal to move off the settee, chasing and biting the lawnmower, barking at motorbikes, clip clop along the wooden floor to come and see you, playing joker on the park, the way she used to sneeze, walked into lamp posts, needed to sniff every inch of the outside word and just missing talking to her, even though she may not have understood me, she knew I was talking to her.  I’d give anything to see her again, hear her bark and feel the warmth of her.

lucky-beachIn time, I know that those memories and the pain will fade, but I don’t want it to.  While I still grieve for her, I will still miss her.  Grief is personal and unique to each of us.  We’ve been up to Babbington Rescue many times since, dropped off bedding, attended open days and walked some of the dogs, I  can’t help but compare every dog to her.  I am sure that the time will come again, to make that decision and make another dog happy with all our love to give, knowing that they will invariably pass on before us and we suffer the heartache again.  A warm bed, welcome arms and a loving home – this is Lucky’s legacy.



Nick Cook. Amateur astronomer, space, history, nerd, extreme dog walker, cat slave, severe tinnitus sufferer. 13.7 billion years in the making - not that much better for it.

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