A dog-shaped void

on finding holes that were once filled

Dear Musers

Thank you for reading. This will be my last newsletter for the year. I have been overwhelmed by the love and support you have shown me over this year, despite my rather erratic publishing.

Today, I came home from yoga to an empty house for the first time in my memory. The boys are all out doing their thing, living in country Victoria, doing a placement in country Victoria and being a part of a Motorsport team during their race week. M has gone to watch the car race.

And Bella is no longer here.

Bella on her last morning

It’s an awful/wonderful thing to love and to lose, to be depended upon/to have all control. Without love, there is no grief.

On Thursday, I tuned into Bella’s restlessness and realised she was done. She’d stopped eating and drinking on Wednesday. On Thursday, she started dragging her leg, stumbling. I sat with her in my lap and talked to her. I thanked her for all she had given to us. For the laughs we got, the never ending licks, the running up and down the hall to get rid of the zoomies, climbing into places like luggage so she wasn’t left behind and shelves to sleep. For the love she gave.

Before Bella came into our lives, M had said he didn’t want a dog. He had never had one. He didn’t know what they gave. My youngest had tied a rope around a pestle and dragged it around the house calling it his dog. ‘Come on, doggy,’ he would say and around the house they would trot. Him and the marble pestle bouncing along behind him.

‘We need to get a dog,’ I said to M. He shook his head and gave me all the reasons why we couldn’t have one.

Our eldest was terrified of dogs and allergic to them and cats. Then there were the holes in the fences. I found all the breeds that were hyperallergenic and when the fence was fixed and the labourers had gone home, I told M that we were going to look at the rescue dogs that afternoon. Our eldest said he wasn’t coming, Minecraft was more interesting than looking at dogs that terrified him.

They showed us through to the yard where the rescue dogs were. I said it needed to be a small dog, one that didn’t moult and was good with kids. There were two maltese shitzu dogs. One grey and one white. The white one yapped its sweet little head off and the grey one walked to the fence and cocked her head.

‘Can we have a look at this one please,’ I said as I gestured to the grey one.

She was excited to come out of her pen, but not over the top. The two boys took turns running around with her on the patch of grass and I said to M that we would need to take her home.

Six-year-old Bella sat on the seat on the way home with her head held high. She looked to be laughing, filled with joy, that she’d been picked to leave.

Bella on the way home from the Lost Dog’s Home.

At home, the eldest took to her like he’d always loved her. For the first time in an age, I heard him use the word love. The three boys fought over who got to have her on their bed each night. She was tossed from one to the other as they fought who would hold her. They loved her deeply from that very first until the very last moment.

The boys all agreed it was time, when I called them yesterday morning. She was nearly 18 years old. She had arthritis, was blind and nearly deaf. She was weary. They knew it was her time, but that our time would never have an end.

I called my eldest a few times over the day yesterday, wanting him to tell me to cancel the appointment, that it would be okay. Instead, he put his doctor hat on and reminded me that this was the most loving thing we could do for her.

The vet was the best. He’d been the one who’d taken her damaged eye out only nine months ago. He remembered her, us, and treated her, M and I in the most tender way. When I couldn’t stop crying, he gave me a box of tissues. When I asked for a lock of her hair he helped me choose which lock.

My youngest last night reminded me of things she helped us through: my mum’s death and some awfully hard health years with the other two boys. She gave, and gave, and gave. For that we are deeply thankful.

Here’s my little indulgence of video of Bella and some of the crazy places she sat, slept, lay, enjoying the wind through the car window, things she was carried in, the chickens who terrified her except when they pooped.

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Other things

Life has felt like a lot at this end of the year, and I know I am not the only one limping to the end, yet, I am lucky. I have a safe home to live in, my family are all safe and alive unlike so many others in the world. So instead of listing best books or things to buy for Christmas, here are things I have been grateful for over the last year:

• regular yoga practise

• making new friends through work, yoga, writing and neighbourhood

• watching my sons grow into wonderful men

• old friendships that weather the storms

• more time in nature

• wonderful conversations with strangers

• readers who engage with my writing

• time and space to write and think

• time I could spend with Bella while working from home

• a loving family.

There is so much more to be grateful.

If you are struggling, or going through a rough time, maybe something I used to get me through the darkest of days might help you. At the end of each day, I sat down and wrote down three things I called golden moments. They were small but they helped me to get through those days. Even reminding myself that the sun always rises the next day was enough.

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I am taking a break until mid January. Next year will look a little different here. I am going to be more regular and will have a regular newsletter for paying subscribers only.

To you all, thank you for your readership. It has filled me with hope and love. To my dear paying subscribers, I am honoured that you care enough to pay for me to write. This buoys me on in my dark writing days.

I wish you all a restful break and for those who celebrate, I wish you a happy Christmas and hope that the simple things become the joy.

Much love until next time

x Meg

PS - If you want more time for writing next year, add a writing retreat to your Christmas wish list. It might be the best gift you will get. Also, don’t wait too long as they are filling up fast.

PPS - If you refer a friend to Meg’s Musings, there are rewards for you!

PPPS - Or start your own Substack…