This post is dedicated to Rosie. The very much-loved dog and companion of our blogging friend Lady Jicky. Rosie was a rescue dog and, due to years of neglect, she had lots of problems with her skin and her eyes. In the end, her problems were simply too much for her to cope with. Rosie very sadly died on Thursday 8th January and Lady Jicky is, understandably, devastated. To make matters worse for Lady J, she only recently found out that her other dog, Oscar, is also dying - of cancer.
Lady Jicky and Rosie have brightened all our blogs up with their comments – sometimes sassy, sometimes serious, sometimes thoughtful, sometimes hilarious, sometimes blunt. But Lady J doesn’t have her own blogsite, so I said I would post a tribute to Rosie, my dear friend, my dear little blogging buddy.
I’m not eloquent. I’m not poetic. I don’t do prose. I’m not a writer – not like some of you clever folk out there. So, this isn’t going to be a powerfully evocative or flowery piece, but it is from the heart.
There will be folk out there who have never had a pet and who may not understand the love and depth of feeling that folks can have for their treasured furry (or not) friends. To those, I ask you to stop and imagine how you would feel to lose your dearest, closest and most loyal pal and companion. Pets can be just that to some people. Whoever you are, whatever your experiences or depth of empathy this post carries a message that is relevant to everyone, and at the end of it I will be asking you to do something very simple, which may change your life. So please keep reading.
Rosie was ‘rescued’ by the lovely Lady J almost a year ago. Up until that point, she hadn’t had a particularly good life – Lady J reckons she spent most of it locked in a back yard with her sister. Her sister was snapped up fairly quickly, but nobody wanted Rosie because she wasn’t considered textbook ‘cute’. Luckily, she melted Lady J’s heart and the last year of her life was, finally, a very happy one and she was showered with love.
Actually, Lady J, I happen to think she WAS a cutie – so, you and me both, eh?
Lady J said that when Rosie first arrived at her house she was very fond of her old dog, Oscar, and wanted to sleep with him all the time. Yep, Rosie was a rather ‘fresh’ little lady pug (as I suspected all along) but Oscar sulked initially because his nose had been put out of joint with her ‘intrusion’ into his space. In the end, however, they became inseparable.
Rosie also had a ‘thing’ for Lady J’s husband (honestly, saucy little minx – bet she would have been a right man-eater had she been a lady). She would suck up to Lady J during the day and then as soon as her hubby arrived back from work she’d be dropped like a hot potato. Rosie would wait for him at the door and Lady J would say “Your boyfriend’s home Rosie” whereupon she’d go nuts - and the rest of the evening she’d stick to him like glue, poor Lady J forgotten.
That’s why I was nicknamed “Boyfriend”. Apparently, she used to get just as excited when visiting my blogsite;)
I first met Rosie on November 28th, when she left a comment on my post “What Floats Your Boat?” We found we had one thing immediately in common. Our doggy love of poo:
Hi Henry, I found you via French Fancy where my girlfriend Poppy is. Now , I kind of fancy a French boyfriend and your are it ! My name is Rosie and I am in Australia and its so great you asked about boat floating for my boat floater is Possum Poo! Yes - POO again. LOL Its delish , like little brown chocolates all over the backyard under the trees - free boyfriend! My Mother is not pleased for I have got my brother Oscar onto it - hell that boy has been living here for years and never cottoned onto it!I arrived here this Feb from a Pug Rescue. So - hop in a plane and come over and we shall float a boat together and wash it down with Possum Poo! Kiss Kiss
Well, it was kind of ‘love at first comment’ and Rosie became a regular contributor of fun to my blogsite. I used to look forward to her visits and would have been miffed if she’d ever passed by without stopping, which she never did. As I said, she could be a right saucy minx and often made comments about my furry chest and bushy eyebrows. I would have loved to have met her.
Only a couple of days ago Braja wrote a post about blogging friends being as dear to us as the friends we have physical contact with, and it moved me so much I featured it on my site. Actually, it was posted on the very day that Rosie died. Rather poignant, I think, that on that very day I lost a blogging buddy – my first loss.
My heart, however, goes out to Lady J for she is the one who will be feeling it the hardest, particularly as she has to contend with the fact that Oscar now has a terminal illness.
None of us know how long we’re going to live. None of us know how long our loved ones are going to live. What we do know is that all of us, one day, will experience the death of a loved one, or loved ones. Life is so fragile. So short. So precious.
I’m sad. I never got the chance to say goodbye to Rosie. I can’t remember if I told her that she was a good friend and that I really appreciated her comments and the time she spent reading my blog.
We all too often make time for the prosaic and practical elements of life, but sometimes make no time to say ‘I love you’, or ‘Thank you for being my friend’. If you can find the time to make a shopping list, do the ironing, write your blog, submit a comment on One Minute Writer, shout at your kids, grumble about your spouse, grumble about the state of the nation, then you can find three seconds to say ‘I love you’, or ‘I really care for you’, or ‘I appreciate you’, or ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you’. And do you know what? Now is the only time. Because you have no idea what the next day, the next hour, or in fact the next minute will bring.
What I would really like you to do is this. Think of all the people you love dearly. All the people you care about. All the people who you couldn’t bear to lose. And I want you to take time out today and every day to tell at least one of them how much you do care. How much they are appreciated. How much they are cherished. Because now is the time to appreciate them. Now, when they are alive.
Some of you may already do that -GOOD! WONDERFUL! HATS OF TO YOU! Some of you may think, “That’s cheesy.” or “I don’t need to, they already know.” And I say, “So what?” Tell them anyway.
And if you do turn to your loved one now and say “I love you” and they say “What on earth brought that on?” or “What are you after?” or “What’s wrong with you today?” or “What are you feeling guilty about?” Tell them that you just read something today about loss, and it made you think. Then go away and have a good look at yourself. Why were they so surprised at your outward show of verbal affection?
Do you ever want to be in a position where you lose someone and are left wishing you’d said things when you had the chance?
Because of Rosie, my mum told Uncle Hugh that she loved him today, and he looked as pleased as punch. It made her think she doesn’t do it enough.
Because of Rosie, I told mum I loved her – by looking at her as if she were a goddess, and licking her chin. She looked as pleased as punch too, and it made me think I don’t do it enough.
Thank you Rosie. Ours was a short relationship, but my life was enriched by knowing you.
And Lady Jicky – our thoughts are with you at this time. We cherish you as a friend and appreciate the time you spend reading our blogs and enriching them with your comments.
I’m on holiday now for four days, but hopefully Lady Jicky will be around to respond to your comments – as most of them, I presume, will be aimed at her anyway.
What’s been hard writing this post is using the past tense to describe Rosie.
Lots of love to you all.
Henry the Dog xxxxxx
PS: Lady Jicky is dealing with the comments whilst I'm away. See you all Wednesday. I hope.
.....I'm a Mini Schnauzer, which I reckon is the coolest breed on this planet. I've got grey hair, which isn't because I'm old -I was born in April 2005, so in case any cool, sexy lady dogs are reading this - I'm in my prime. I live in France at the moment but that may change very soon. I decided to start this blog because my mum's was having a bad time due to the Credit Munch and was ignoring my attempts to get her attention (worrying my basket, her socks, her slippers and looking very appealing with my big brown eyes). Mum lives with a guy called Hugh Bastard, at least I think that's his name. It's what she calls him from time to time, but she also calls him Sweet Hart. I call him Uncle Hugh.