Tag Archives: Cordi

Month One / Day One

It took almost two weeks for me to wash the throws on the sofa. I didn’t want your scent to be gone from Cordi. I wanted you to still be there even though I couldn’t see you there anymore.

You came home last week. I haven’t been able to open the box. I’m afraid of what will come if I do. The tears have started to escape again. I’ve stopped fighting them. The other night they wouldn’t stop, it was like I felt your loss for the first time. And that’s exactly how it feels every time I look at your spot on the sofa, or I take Cordi downstairs and she starts looking around – I think she’ll always be looking for you. I know it will be like this for a long time still to come. Perhaps always.

I have kept these words inside me because I haven’t had the strength to let them out. I know I’m still not ready because every word is accompanied by a tear.

It’s been a month, and I still miss you. Every day.

Day One

At 5am I took you back into my arms. The sun was starting to come up. I lay you in the middle of the bed, still wrapped in the towel. I lay down next to you and I put my arm around you. I wanted to hold you tight but I didn’t want to squeeze you too hard, you never liked being held.

I closed my eyes for maybe an hour. It wasn’t sleep, it was exhaustion. It was not restful. I felt myself fighting a fever. My mind racing trying to make sense of what was happening. I knew before waking that it had not been a bad dream.

Cordi pressed her nose against you, trying to see what was happening. She must have been asking herself a million questions. Where was her sister? Oh there she is? Why is everyone crying? How come she’s letting them hold her, she never lets them hold her? They’d better be careful or she’s going to bite them? Why isn’t she growling? Why is she so quiet? Why isn’t she moving? …Sister?

We called the vet. Told them of your passing. They asked us to bring you in. I held you in my arms one last time as I sat on the bed. Wrapped in the towel you looked so peaceful. Your tiny face. Almost peaceful, only you would never have slept through the noise of our tears. You would’ve woken to see what the fuss was about.

We took the bus even though it’s only a short walk. You always liked the bus. The seat on the right at the back so you could look out the door. We held you as your sister looked out the back window and I started to cry again, her first bus ride without you.

The vet said you looked peaceful. You did. I stroked your fur again and placed my head against yours. Rubbed your neck. You always loved when I did that. Your favourite spot. I ran my hand down your back. Still so soft. My Penny. My pretty girl.

You’ll always be my Penny.


The Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together…

Author Unknown

I’ve imagined the Rainbow Bridge. When I am done with this world and I’m hopefully destined for the Good Place. I imagine standing there at the bridge, and I look for my Penny.

I know that she won’t be running and playing, not because she can’t but because that would never be her idea of Heaven. There might be the occasional bird she might run after, her little lop-sided run because that’s how she always ran, only now it doesn’t hurt.

I picture myself getting there, and I see her. Coat all shiny. Nose still crooked. No collar on the way she always liked to be. Head down in a bowl of food. I see her first, surrounded by her brothers and sisters.

Her head slowly turns up when she realises everyone has paused. She turns and sees me. She tilts her head to the side the way she always did when I would come home. She sees me, and I smile. My heart is full.

And she bounds towards me and for the first time ever she lets me scoop her up without a fight and I hold her close. She is as soft and as warm and as round as I remember.

My Penny. My heart is finally whole again.

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It’s Quiet Uptown – Day 6

‘It’s Quiet Uptown’

There are moments that the words don’t reach
There is suffering too terrible to name
You hold your child as tight as you can
Then push away the unimaginable
The moments when you’re in so deep
Feels easier to just swim down
And so they move uptown
And learn to live with the unimaginable

I spend hours in the garden
I walk alone to the store
And it’s quiet uptown
I never liked the quiet before
I take the children to church on Sunday
A sign of the cross at the door
And I pray
That never used to happen before

(If you see him in the street, walking by himself
Talking to himself, have pity)
You would like it uptown, it’s quiet uptown
(He is working through the unimaginable
His hair has gone grey, he passes every day
They say he walks the length of the city)
You knock me out, I fall apart
(Can you imagine?)

Look at where we are
Look at where we started
I know I don’t deserve you
But hear me out, that would be enough

If I could spare his life
If I could trade his life for mine
He’d be standing here right now
And you would smile, and that would be enough
I don’t pretend to know the challenges we’re facing
I know there’s no replacing what we’ve lost
And you need time
But I’m not afraid, I know who I married
Just let me stay here by your side
And that would be enough

(If you see him in the street, walking by her side
Talking by her side, have pity)
Do you like it uptown? It’s quiet uptown
(He is trying to do the unimaginable
See them walking in the park, long after dark)
Taking in the sights of the city
Look around, look around, look around
(They are trying to do the unimaginable)

There are moments that the words don’t reach
There’s a grace too powerful to name
We push away what we can never understand
We push away the unimaginable
They are standing in the garden
Standing there side by side
She takes his hand
It’s quiet uptown

Forgiveness, can you imagine?
Forgiveness, can you imagine?

(If you see him in the street, walking by her side
Talking by her side, have pity)
Look around, look around
They are going through the unimaginable

~ Lin Manuel Miranda ~

I realise I have no pictures with Penny. She hated hugs.

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Normal Service has Resumed – Day 5

I woke up this morning. No tears. Managed to make tea. Almost a necessity because I’ve developed a cold. A reult of my being so run down. No tears. We went to Costco yesterday so that means pastries for breakfast. Penny would have been all over that. No tears.

I’m being left alone for the first time. I’ll busy myself. There are things in the fridge I need to do something with before they spoil. I understand now why people bring dishes of casserole and meals that freeze beautifully to families who are grieving. Everything feels like you’re moving through treacle.

A beautiful three day weekend, our first in so long. Clear blue skies. I plan to sort through laundry. Well, that’s the plan. It’s not like we would’ve gone out anyway. It’s Sunday, Lazy Sundays. When Penny and Cordi unapologetically lie on the couch and do absolutely nothing, encouraging me to do the same. Mostly I would read or catch up on shows. Not wanting to disturb their Sunday because I never wanted to do much on the either. Everyone’s day of rest.

Cordi has gone back to demanding meat be the major part of her meal. No more eating carbs to make us feel better. She sticks close to me. If I sit on the sofa she’s right up by my side. I go to have something for lunch. Again by my side. I look down at her. I know Cordi, you don’t have to be so fast anymore. No one to snatch away your treats.

On the sofa again she’s on my lap. I take her collar off and give her chest rubs. Is that what she think always happened when she was our of the room? Is this why Penny always stayed out here with me? No Cordi, I didn’t give Penny half as many chest rubs as she deserved.

Occasionally she glances up. Are you looking for her again Cordi? I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wondering if she’s looking for her. And I say to her, trying not to cry, “I miss her too Cord.”

First day without a breakdown. Day one.

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Who Tells Your Story – Day 4

I didn’t cry when I woke up today. Progress. For the first time in months I didn’t go to my escrima class. I always go. I even went on my birthday. No days off for me. But I still can’t today. I can’t carry on with my routine as though everything is still the same, not yet. I am not ready to let life start rushing by me as I start…living.

I decided to make a cup of tea because my throat is a little scratchy. My first since Penny left us. I was doing okay. Teabag. Boil the kettle. Then I got told there were mini doughnuts. That did it. And we’re back to tears.

I went to see Hamilton last night. I bought these tickets over a year ago. Fourth row. I wasn’t sure if I would go. Because of our ticketing system I knew I had to go get the tickets, but in my mind the option was also there to leave. This from the person who listens to show tunes all day, every day. I loved it. It was smart and well-written. The cast were amazing. It was exactly what I love about musical theatre. And to my surprise, though there were some moments that could have triggered me, I did not cry. An earlier hug might have taken care of all I had left to give that day.

I spent today listening to the soundtrack. It is intricate enough to occupy my mind without the thud being too jarring when I think of Penny again. More than white noise but enough of a distraction. It is the first music I have listened to since that day. But where I would randomly burst into song, I do not. I feel the music but it does not move me. The lyrics become familiar but I do not even hum along. No fingers tapping along to the beat. I feel numb, but at the same time I feel everything.

I can’t turn it on. Who I am. My default is the smile. I accommodate. I joke. I make people feel at ease. I apologise when people brush into me. I offer help before it needs to be asked for. I charm. I find the joy. I am an automatic ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you.’ A ‘Bless you’ when you sneeze. I can’t be that person. Second nature feels like effort. I cannot find the smile.

There is a lyric in the show, ‘Who lives? Who dies? Who tells your story?’ I suppose that’s what I’m doing with these posts. Telling Penny’s story. Our story. The storyteller. That one part of me that still works.

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Looking for Penny – Day 3

I made the mistake of going to bed last. As I walked to the bathroom I’d normally rub Penny’s head as I passed the sofa. That’s probably how she’d know it was almost bedtime. When I finished I looked to my left, this is where I’d say, “Come on Penny, bedtime.” And she would waddle her way past me and into the bedroom. Pause at the stairs, sometimes needing a few words of encouragement to get up there or simply for a path to be cleared.

It’s those moments. The every day occurrences, the ones that make up your day that you miss so much, that you leave to your mind to commit to memory. So many nights, and I only have this fallible memory of mine to remember that and so much more.

When my nephew was eating his lunch I took a piece of his chicken and gave it to Cordi to eat. She sat up, looking for something… Someone. She went to the table, looking for something. Maybe it was to see if more food had fallen, but my heart tells me she went looking for her sister. Because that’s exactly where Penny would have been. Waiting for something magical to fall from the sky. Or for the awaited, “Clean up!” instruction that signalled whatever had fallen was no fair game. But she wasn’t there. And these moments are another unwelcome reminder. Another trigger.

Every sound that would’ve meant someone was in the kitchen, maybe food is coming. Penny would always be alert. And the paws would follow soon. If she wasn’t sure then she’d stay on the back of the sofa, but her nose would be turned up trying to figure out what was being eaten. She knew when she needed to get up. Whenever someone sat at the table the ears would go up, nose sniffing, on alert…Food? No Pen, just water, nothing you need to get up for. Cordi walked into the kitchen when I was getting water. I think the first time since Penny passed. Hearing the paws on the floor. The expectant looking up for food. Triggered.

We’re worried about what’s going to happen when we have to leave her alone, because she’s never been alone. She went from a household of four dogs, three dogs, to her and Penny. Always Penny. Cordi was bad before, if we’d leave the room it was only a few moments before she came looking for us. Now we make sure we never leave her. That won’t be able to continue for much longer.

I know she appreciates the constant attention, the extra treats, the not having to share anything. But I know if Penny walked through that door Penny would be in her face giving her a million slobbery kisses as Penny growled back. She’d relish giving her a hard time because I know she misses her. I know she loved her sister so much. I see it. I can see how happy and excited she would be. Wagging her tail because her sister was back. I see it. I feel it.

We’re looking at finding her a new friend, even as a foster, so she’s not alone. It’s too soon for me but we have to think of Cordi, we don’t want her to be alone. It’s not fair to her to not have someone. But it’s not just got Cordi. Me too. People are blaming themselves because I’m always sad. That stoic Britishness, gone. I feel everything. I feel it so much. And it hurts.

Finding a dog is proving difficult, the various shelters saying we live to close to a main road, we don’t have a garden, the dog would be better in a home with no other dogs, a myriad of reasons. And then there are those ads for dogs that “need” a home…for a significant fee. Puppy brokers acting under the guise of people trying to rehome the dogs they’ve overbred. They’re the ones responsible for taking Penny. Their greed and callousness breeding dogs that weren’t well, raising them in horrible conditions just so they could make money. They make me sick. How can they claim to care about giving a dog a home when they’re keeping them in cardboard boxes?

And this constant thudding in my head. Exhaustion. Dehydration. The lack of caffeine. Not having Penny to lean against on the sofa, only the cold hard table. The pain does not stop.

Every time we take Cordi out or we come back home, or even go into a different room I keep trying to see if she’s looking for her sister. Does she think she’s just gone somewhere and she’s going to come back? Maybe she’s hiding because she doesn’t want to go outside… She’s never hid for this long before. Maybe I should eat all my food quickly because she’ll suddenly pounce out and take it. Does she think these things? Is she looking for Penny? Because I look for her. And I know she’s not going to be there. But I so very much want her to be.

I don’t know how to not want to look for her.

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