one month on
It's been a month today that Pegasus died, and here I am contemplating about what's happened in that month.
Yesterday I was sitting out the back on the sofa with Bobby (Hallie had gone back inside) and put a CD on the player. Hadn't realised that it was the same one I'd played when burying him, and at the wake. It only took a few seconds before I burst into tears.
There's been barely a day I haven't cried over not having him in my life. But the mundane and relentless reality of the situation, regardless of any religious or spiritual beliefs, is that life (for me) goes on and nothing I can do can ever bring him back into this one (after is another possibility).
Every time I think I'm "over" that fact, something happens that sets me off.
My reactions
At first this was utterly intolerable. Peggy died (and I buried him) while Kevin and Michelle were away and that first weekend, until I had the dream of him going, and the wake, was the hardest ever. Things seemed OK but then when Kevin and Michelle were off again the following weekend, I got suicidal. It seemed that the only way out was to run away for a bit, and that;'s exactly what I did. Things have settled down since then, and I did, finally, speak to Kevin about my feelings of betrayal and being let down. And it really helped when I finally talked to my counsellor.
See, I had thought that I'd killed Pegasus by negligence. My old family dog, Snoopy, lived until he was 16. On two occasions when he accompanied my parents on expeditions into the bush (for firewood) he had a heart attack - but my mother gave him CPR and brought him back. After speaking to a lot of people, it seems that that's what Peggy had - only I couldn't (despite my 1st Aid training for humans) bring him back, and the guilt weighed heavy on me.
I suspect though, that no matter what I did, Pegasus's time was up. He'd been ill earlier in October on the 9th, and then recovered somewhat. But from then on I had the foreboding that Peggy was not long in this life. Several times I was in the lounge (or out the back) on the sofa with Hallie and Bobby. Pegasus was there too but just out of site. It seemed an eerie vision of what was to come. I made sure in the three weeks after that I paid him even more attention, patted him, and so on. But facing his death has been one of the hardest things I've done - much harder than my father's death. My father died after a long convalescence in a nursing home 4000km away. Pegasus died almost in my arms. But I know now, that it was only a matter of time, and Peggy will always be in my heart.
Afterwards
There are some odd coincidences and effects centred around Peggy's death.
I was giving Peggy pain killers for his arthritis and those tablets were all used up on the day of his death. My left knee had been giving me trouble for a few months - so bad that I got a walking stick - and since his death it's been troubling me less and less. See, Peggy's rear left leg was the one he injured and the one that gave him pain. Were my pains sympathetic in nature?
It's more likely that they are related to my lack of exercise and being overweight. I always loved walking Pegasus, but as he got older his energetic trot slowed down to a very leisurely pace, and a walk around the neighbourhood that used to take 30 minutes would take an hour or more - not good exercise, really. But since his death, I've walked Bobby every day but one, and walked Hallie and Bobby numerous times (often bush walks), so it's more likely that I'm getting more exercise now.
I'm coughing less now. Pegasus, for a short haired dog, shed hair all the time everywhere. While Peggy was alive there were short white hairs all over the house. And I always seemed to cough a lot. Since Peggy's death that hair has slowly been disappearing every time I vacuum, and I've been coughing less. Interestingly, when Hallie (another short haired dog) sleeps on my bed, I tend to wake up coughing.
Moving on
After the Poogle died, I made changes. His old dry food went to Hallie, and Bobby got his canned food. I cleared away the remains of the pills and other stuff I had in the garden shed for him. Since then it's been difficult to just sit under the trees on the sofa without him. But I am, and it makes a difference to my peace of mind. At first I felt guilty playing with and walking the other two dogs, because Peggy wasn't there. But just because they're not Pegasus is no reason to ignore them, and I play with them more and more lately.
I intend to paint Pegasus's portrait and hang it in my lounge. When Snoopy died in 1983, I was doing a painting course at TAFE and painted his portrait (see right). I need to do this for Pegasus too. Snoopy's portrait hangs in my mother's bathroom, but Peggy's will go in my lounge I think.
And tomorrow I leave on my trip to Perth. Although I've felt the need to visit my family and friends since late last year (especially after my aunty died), Peggy's death has highlighted the need to reaffirm my roots.
I'm taking photos of him with me.
