This was going to be a mighty blog. Oh, the marvellous things I had to tell you: the emotional truths, the life lessons, the pearls of wisdom.
Then life happened and there was no damn room for pearls. Am swamped in work and logistics, cooking four different kinds of soup for various members of the family, making crucial arrangements, discussing the things that must be discussed. As always, when days like this happen, I am in awe of the people with the children on top of all this life. Anything more than work and horse and domestic arrangements to deal with, and I develop literal pains in my shoulder and have to neck half a bottle of iron tonic simply to keep going.
At least keeping busy is good for the missing of The Pigeon. I had a terrible moment this morning when I was doing some belated washing and found tiny bits of dog biscuit in the pocket of my jeans. They were the last morsels I had tempted her with when the appetite was going. So that finished me off for about half an hour.
No time for sentiment though, on account of the soup and the logistics and the packing of the car and the arrangements. I am going south first thing, to the Beloved Cousin, and all manner of things must be arranged.
I even missed Sizing Europe in the 2.25 at Clonmel, I was rushing around so much. My kind racing tweeters said he was IMPERIOUS.
So all that is a long way of saying there is absolutely no good blog for you. Just undifferentiated nonsense and some pictures of leaves.
Had been fretting slightly about leaving the herd, when they are so new in their winter quarters, but this is how I found them first thing. I think they are pretty settled in:
Red, with her where’s my breakfast face:
And with her faithful companion:
The amazing Horse Talker is going to look after them whilst I am away. Here she is, treating the smart new fence so they don’t take chunks out of it. Red is not so duchessy that she won’t chew on random bits of wood, when the fancy takes her:
My Pigeon, from the archive:
Wondered suddenly if it were not a bit morbid, to keep putting up pictures of a dog who has gone. But the Dear Readers seem to like it, and to me it does not feel sad or mawkish, but fitting. She was so much part of this place, and I don’t see why there should not be her beautiful face here still.