Death of a pet

I was sitting at my desk on Friday when I heard a murmured conversation about how someone’s pet dog had just died. I was curious, but at the same time I didn’t want to know too much. The mere thought of a beloved pet dying made my heart sink. Some things you are better off not knowing

About an hour later it was confirmed to me. I’m close to about 3 people in the office. One has a beautiful Samoyard he is devoted too. There’s always pictures of him posted on Facebook with my mate his family. He’s doted upon, a happy looking bundle of white fur. But now that’s all past tense. He’s the dog that died.

I found out and I didn’t want to know more. I was sorry I knew so much. I felt an ache. I certainly didn’t want to know how the dog died, though it’s inevitable I’ll learn. It was just a young dog, and seemingly healthy.

I sat at my desk feeling for my friend. I knew how devastated he must feel. Naturally it made me think of Rigby. I’ve suffered a lot of trials and tribulations the last few years, and survived, but I’d find it hard to recover if anything happened to him. As strong as I’ve been I know losing Rigby would bring me utterly undone. I couldn’t get out bed. I’d weep. I’d question the meaning of everything.

This morning I took Rigby for his Sunday morning jaunt on the beach. He was particularly excitable today. He loves the beach. Approaching beach road he slipped his collar. Before I could stop him he had taken off across the road.

Beach road is a busy, four lane road. Thankfully we’d been stopped waiting for the traffic to clear when he took off, and everything happened so quickly I didn’t have time to be afraid.

He made it to the far side, dodging a few cyclists, but not vehicles. I made it straight after. “Don’t do that to me,” I told him. Rigby was oblivious.

It can happen so easily. I’m lucky. Rigby remains. My mate is not so lucky and I have no words for him.

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