Tuesday 10 December 2013

The Day That's In It

I took the dogs for a walk this morning, up along the river and into the cathedral of the woods, where the columns of trees arch high over the path, and the bare, black branches carve their tracery against the sky.
The river was still and full today - quiet, apart from the odd salmon rising, sending rings eddying to the banks. All the way we swapped beats with the herons, who didn't seem at all pleased to see us. We were interrupting their second breakfast, I expect.

Model Dog walks so close beside me that I often find her ear lying softly in my hand, like an end of velvet.
She paces like a great cat - her shoulders loose and sinuous, the fluidity of her gait swaying her slightly from side to side. The TeenQueen on the other hand, is like a deer - light on her feet, easily startled, fleet and silent - she is away in a rush of air if something catches her eye.

When we got home I put up the Christmas tree I bought at the weekend.
It may not smell of sharp, pine resin, but I will enjoy looking at it every day - I think it is beautiful.
It was made by a Sligo glass-maker I know, and I loved it the moment I saw it on his stand at the Christmas Fair. It will be even nicer on a sunny day.

My Christmas tree


The rest of my day has been calm and quiet. I looked up as I was filling the kettle to find a flock of goldfinches on the bird nuts and 'cupcakes' outside the window. I have only recently opened this new restaurant, and it has gone straight to No 1 in the charts, but the regulars are tits of all kinds, chaffinches and sparrows, with the occasional visit from one of my garden robins. I haven't seen the goldfinches since last winter and it was a good day to welcome them back. 

Some fuzzy goldfinches through the window


Armed with my hot drink, the dogs and I headed for the flower garden. I've been gradually putting it to bed, but some things don't want to go. Today I picked the last delphiniums, pink achillea and tall purple campanula (a flower that always reminds me of pixie hoods), and cleared another good stretch of the long herbaceous border, cutting back and weeding, but also taking time to split and replant various perennials before tucking it all under a thick blanket of compost.

It's a laborious job, but a satisfying one. A chance to say à bientôt and thank you after a long, long summer. And a chance to bury some treasure, as my friend, the Talentui Goddess, calls planting bulbs.
I am late with the bulbs this year, but as it still feels like October outside, I'm not too worried.
And when I see them again, in all their glory, the winter will be past and a new season of growing will have begun.

It was a good day to think of replenishment, I needed it.
Just as it was a good day to walk in the woods.
I used to walk there almost every day, but I've hardly been this year.
They are too full of ghosts, the woods, they make my heart ache.
But today it was a kind of solace to visit them again, the wind like wild water in the treetops.
It's a year ago today that Top Dog died and our world staggered on its axis. Dramatic to say that, perhaps, but true, and - daft as it may seem - I still catch myself thinking that he'll be back soon.

I saw a heartbreaking tombstone in a church once. It was for a young child, and all it said was: 'My beloved is in the garden, gathering flowers.'
Typically Victorian, I know, but it brought tears to my eyes. And I understand the feeling.
Top Dog is off somewhere, doing something. Chewing his bone in the orchard perhaps, or lying in the sun in the courtyard.
I just haven't seen him for awhile because dear Model Dog and I have been busy doing stuff too.














17 comments:

  1. A tranquil melancholic piece Lorely. Thank you. x

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  2. Beautiful moving writing Lorely. I'm glad Model Dog is helping to sooth the loss of your Beloved Top Dog., those paw prints stay on our hearts forever.

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    1. To be honest, Mairead, I odn't know what I'd have done without her.

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  3. An extra touching post for me today. I helped a friend say goodbye to her dog of 13 years this morning and it's almost exactly 2 years since I said goodbye to my Dane. I like to think they are all just off doing something together. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words.

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    1. So sorry to hear that Pix, and sorry for your friend. It's always so awful. I'm sure it must have helped her to have you there.

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  4. This post brought tears to my eyes! Thanks for that!!! Have a very nice "Before-Christmas-Time"! Think of you often!

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    1. Hi Bine - nice to see you! Sad day - difficult memories, but so many happy ones too, bless him. I hope you are enjoying all your lovely German Christmas markets!

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    2. Last Saturday I visited a wonderful Christmas market nearby with a friend. We stayed 6 hours and bought several nice things. That was great!

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    3. Last Saturday I visited a wonderful Christmas market nearby with a friend. We stayed 6 hours and bought several nice things. That was great!

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  5. I had a feeling these beautiful bereft lines were going somewhere, I'm a new discoverer and didn't know, until now, about your Top Dog, indeed we all have our "Top Dogs" and Fat cats and no doubt feel your pain as we think about them, but indeed there is renewal with time and the flowers will grow again, as they watch on from just there, beside us, where they always remain.... With love

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    1. Aoibhin welcome, and thank you for your comment. It's strange how much it soothes the heart to know that other people empathise so completely. Or perhaps it's not strange at all. Your words touched me. Thank you.

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  6. I have tears in my eyes as I identify with your every word. I have been unable to go in our field since I lost our second dog this year. I am still grieving I guess. Too many ghosts - those words hit home. I wish I could plant treasure but my three free rangers would soon dig them up. The birds still bring me delight though, like yours do. Thank you for your blog, it is a comforting place to visit. And I LOVE your Christmas tree, I want one!

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    1. Oh Cait - I left a message on your blog about your Katy when you wrote about her. I am so sad for your going through that loss. It is so awful to lose them. For most of us who love dogs, they are part of every minute of our lives, and they give themselves to utterly to whoever loves them that it truly is like losing a part of yourself. Perhaps that is what we grieve for? It warms my heart to think that my blog could be a comforting place to visit - thank you so much. The Christmas tree is lovely, isn't it? Take care of yourself.

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  7. Three months after my mother died of cancer our top dog, a beautiful welsh border collie, did the same. Double whammy. Both still loved and missed but life goes on, pain fades and other special ones fill the gaps. We would never have been without them despite the loss.

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    1. I'm so sorry to hear about your mother and your top dog. What a difficult time for you. I am not comparing this with losing your mother - but we lost Top Dog and his twin brother within 10 days of each other, and the double loss was bewildering and left us feeling somehow rootless. It must have been the same for you - two people you might have turned to for comfort - gone. So sad. But you are right, we would never have been without them, never.

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  8. Wonderful post and such a sad one from last year.
    I feel your pain and will include the two of yours into my prayers xx

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