And then it all went wrong.......

Since I last wrote, we have been having further problems with Hannimal Hector – serious biting (without any warning), and a major tail-bushing fracas between Dog and Cat (fortunately Cat is young, VERY fast and relatively sensible, so remains uninjured....not so ChickPea........).

We were loathe to give up on the dog without first trying to properly – and appropriately - address the behaviour. So a fully validated behaviourist, provided by the Dog’s Trust, visited us last Friday, spending a significant amount of time with us, giving us most valuable advice and a very clear programme of exercises to follow. She was kind, and very sensible. “Be safe” was her Ultimate Directive.

All seemed to be going nicely over the weekend as TH worked with the programme. Dog seemed quite comfortable with the first exercises, gradually progressing from Day One to Day Two of the set regimen.

Come Monday, after he had been breakfasted and well (and quietly) walked by ChickPea, she felt the time was right for her to start on the earliest exercises with him too. Not so. Dog was NOT having it.

So Hector went back to the Dog’s Trust at the beginning of the week.

It was the only option. Each time he bit someone he was building his confidence, and under-mining ours. Not the way to a happy, safe or joyous future for the four of us (let alone bringing the hens into the equation). He had made some good progress with us along the way – he was beginning to walk more comfortably on the lead, he was a little less restless in the house, he was allowing TH to touch him a little - but we were not up to giving him what he needs just now to deal with the biting issues. We hope that returning him to the rescue centre with extensive reporting of the issues which arose will assist rehabilitation for his future.

But we are still sad that he had to go, and the home is desolate without a canine member of the household..........

“I am a collie dog – and I can run, and run, and run all day...............”

Our beloved MurphyMutt took his heritage very seriously. He was a Border Collie dog, and collies are loyal, and responsible, and collies are bred to run all day.


As a mature ‘rescued’ dog, he was a chap with a past – and we shall never know quite what that history held. That he ‘had issues’ is beyond question, but he was such an honest dog that for these there were probably good reasons buried deep in that past.



Over the last few weeks he had slowed down a bit – it seemed likely to be the heat, it was getting to me, and he was an old dog, after all........ but TH felt there was more..... and when I thought about it, I had to agree that he was probably right........



The vet agreed he was looking basically ok.......... but his temperature was way, way up..... this was not only unexpected, but indicated we had a very ill dog, even tho he didn’t look it..........



Over the next week his experienced but perplexed vet tried industrial doses of each and every medication that could reasonably be expected to bring his fever down.....his bloods were essentially ok, but his liver function was deteriorating....we gave him ice cubes in his drinking water, and he was thrilled to be allowed more ice cream than any dog should ever EVER eat....... but each day his temperature was a little higher.... to a level beyond that where he should have been fitting........... he just looked a little more apologetic...... and increasingly weary....... he was no longer managing to jump accurately into the car........ he stopped eating his most favourite treat of an apple....... and then, on Tuesday, dog food became too much effort to eat, and we knew there could be no more hope....... and his temperature was even higher - now 107.5...... and tho he was still clearly enjoying cat treats, and taking them oh, so very, very gently, we knew that time had run out ........... such a fine, brave dog should not be expected to have to stay with us any longer.



The time had come to allow him rest.



Our beloved collie dog, who had just spent 20 minutes padding round the local park, walking, and walking, and walking....... who would not stop....... doggedly placing one foot in front of the other, and holding in his head and in his heart “I am a collie dog, and I can run, and run, and run all day..............” .

......... and now, at last, he can run easily...... and free......... in Elysian fields.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

Naming the Game

Hello. Two days ago was sunny – one of the most fabulous and sunniest days that Glasgow has seen in a while. A fine day. A glorious day. A Good To Be Alive day. Even, maybe, a “Good To Be Me” day. My thoughts turned to blogging............... an’ I thought it wiz about time I admitted to still being here.

My energies of the last too many months have been somewhat channelled towards seeking employment – and over the last several weeks, devoted to assimilation of the new job requirements.

And are these demanding ? Thank you for asking. Demanding, yes – but not in the “saving lives in ITU” league – Thank Goodness. No one is likely to step prematurely into The Next Realm if I don’t do this job well enough. That Responsibility, Those Jobs are Now Done By Others. Thank Goodness.

I think I’m only just beginning to really recognize the cost involved in carrying such responsibility for so long. When I first took up the reins of the post I remember hoping that I’d recognize when the time arrived to move on.

I loved the people I cared for.......and yes, for me it was right to weep with those who wept and rejoice with those who rejoiced.........and, as a dedicated professional, I learnt to leave each bedside and go refreshed and new to the next, meeting each as an individual needing a unique and considered approach. I loved the staff I worked with........... well, most of them ........being human I met some I found difficult, and one in particular with whom I did not find a satisfying working relationship. This still imparts sadness.

I was totally committed to the requirements of the role. I hated the politics, and as I got older I began to struggle with the hours and energy which were consumed. I think I did recognize something of this – but I couldn’t see a way out.......... or a way forward.......... or sideways, or back, for that matter. It was going to be a difficult process, by whatever path..........

Thank you, BlogVisitor, for visiting, for being around, and sharing something of the rough and smooth of the path which has been involved. The blogging community have been so very supportive – especially over the long weeks and months of unemployment. I would never have expected such kindness and encouragement............. from generous folk from all over the world. Thank you. Thank you so much.

And now – where is ChickPea now ? Ah well, there’s a question............

Two day ago, several times, in fact, in my new administrative post, I was momentarily aware that I was in a good place - the ‘right’ place, and doing the ‘right’ thing............. And it felt Good To Be Alive.

The learning curve involved in the new job continues, and much of the time it still feels as if I am carrying a big pile of dinnerplates while running into the wind across a steep shingle beach with waves crashing and the tide coming in fast....... struggling to keep balance........ and not fall............struggling to keep going............. trying to make progress and gain distance – whilst the tide was getting ever closer..........

But maybe I can look at this differently.........the winds are blowing, yes, and with unpredictable gusts from most unexpected directions...........and tide and waves are close and closing............I guess there’s an element here of ‘storm’ and a disciple losing heart whilst Christ sleeps in the boat..........

A steep shingle beach is certainly not the easiest of surfaces to run across............... but maybe what’s actually happening is that I really am All At Sea - and learning to windsurf............. !

Aha – what would an analyst make of that, then, eh ? A very typical life experience, I guess, but somehow, when it’s the one you’re in yourself, it can be quite difficult stepping back far enough from the wood so that you can see the trees.......... and feel the sunshine on your face again.............

I’m sitting here with the Catlet resting on my left hip and reaching across the keys to both Help n Hinder.

He’s a Fine Fellow, this Bart. He doesn’t fill either of his predecessors’ shoes of course – my beloved white and tabby Judith was a most dedicated CompanionCat, and The PoppyCat too was One In A Million – like each and every one of us. Special, and unique, and totally irreplaceable. And every life has room for at least one more...........

Each day the young Bartholomew grows a bit more in size and stature, and finds new things – real or imaginary – to chase, or challenge, or ambush.........or to snuggle up to.............It may be tall, bipedal and bearing food............ or four legged, black and white, and with Big Teeth.............. BUT ...........Everything Is Fun..........Everything has the potential to Be Great..........and young Bart shows us, time and again, that if you approach it sideways......... and especially if you divert its attention and take charge of it almost Anything CAN be transformed............. ‘dull’ can become ‘shiny’.............. ‘boring’ can be realigned to be ‘exciting’.......... even just a leaf can be THE most EXCITING THING EVER.......... it just All Depends On HOW You Can Take It By Surprise.....

Perspective. Attitude. Imagination. Trust. Focus. Commitment. Enthusiasm. Love. Daring..............

Who would have thought that such a small Catlet-Kitten-Thing could show us so very much in so few weeks?

Maybe there’s more in young BartholoMew’s name than meets the eye, eh?

Ms Mog – R.I.P.

My beloved feline friend died this afternoon. She had lived with me and shared my life for longer than I lived with my own parents. Arriving in my flat as a tiny black kitten, just six weeks old, she could sit on my hand with all four feet and a tidily curled tail – and continued to try and do so for months after she outgrew my palm. She then became a rebellious teenager – and she withdrew bodily contact during daylight hours – objecting with tooth and claw if I transgressed her decision. But in the middle of the night, when her feet got cold, she would creep onto my bed and snuggle close. I had to wait until she was seven years old before she would again allow me to pick her up, or accept a cuddle.

She tolerated TH coming into our lives. He was allergic to cat fur in those days – not a promising start to our new relationship. He had never known any cats, admitted a certain dislike. Tolerance would be a positive achievement between them. But, astonishingly, over the intervening years he has developed tolerance to Ms Mog’s fur – though most other cats will still trigger an allergic reaction. And the initial ‘Tolerance’ became ‘Respect’, and then companionship.

Ms Mog loved moving to this house, with the garden. During the first week, we were breakfasting on the back lawn, and a streak of grey followed by black dashed past our feet – Ms Mog chasing the local squirrel as fast as she could, and faster than she believed possible – we both saw the look in her eyes that said “I hope I don’t catch up with it......”

Today is about three months short of her 20^th birthday – an astonishing lifetime, given that she had twice been rescued from The Brink – about eight years ago and again about four years later. She has been nearing this end point for more than long enough – but each time we asked her The Big Question, she smiled gently, and said “Ok, so I’m old, and a bit creaky, but I’m fine - where’s the food ?” She hated vets – with a pathological hatred which increased as she got older - and she made me promise four years ago that we would not push her on before she was ready to go – she was determined – so determined – to make that decision herself. I got home at lunchtime today, and she was clearly nearing The Time – we would have to Take Steps when TH got home with the car. But though now so drowsy, with her breathing getting irregular, she seemed very comfortable and settled on my lap – but getting colder - so we sat in her beloved conservatory in the sunshine. When this fantastic addition to our house was being built, Miss Mog would creep out every evening and inspect every detail of the day’s progress, and somehow made sure she marked her ownership of the enterprise by leaving her footprints for posterity in the concrete floor.

My wee feisty black feline always loved lying in the sun, and even though she was getting further from us, today was no exception. She relaxed in the sunshine, stretching gently...... and with a wee smile she gently slipped away before TH got home - she evaded The Vet just like she wanted.

Beloved pet. We have missed her so much as she has gradually withdrawn from our lives – she decided to be an Upstairs Cat about three years ago, demanding a waitress service for her meals, and waking us up for cuddles when she felt lonely in the wee sma’ hours. But frail though she had become, her voice was as insistent as ever when she decided it was her suppertime. She was still very much a part of the household, and her presence continually enriched our lives.

Now, at last, she rests in peace, and we must get used to the resultant emptiness.

The process continues.......

Bereavement and grieving being the process in question. You think you’re doing well, and have moved on to the next chapter of your life – and something grabs you by the ankle and suddenly you feel crumpled in a heap like so many autumn leaves.

Life in the ChickPea household rumbles on, and you would think DJ both gone and forgotten……… But the dreams prove otherwise. Last night was a case in point. One of those dreams which is so so vivid you can hardly believe you have awoken when you do awake. So real.

ChickPea dreamt she’d woken, got up, gone down the road to the regular Thursday morning Eucharist. Dreamt she got there surprisingly early (ChickPea doesn’t do ‘Early’ !) – so met up with TH for a coffee – all in astonishing technicolour and 3-D – in fact, absolutely all the normal detail and sensations of everyday life – then she suddenly realized she couldn’t remember where DJ was – why wasn’t he along too for the service ? – she then realized she couldn’t remember getting him up for the day, or even giving him his breakfast – he would be hungry, and upset, and alone and still in his bed - in fact, couldn’t remember where he was sleeping – knew his bed at home had not been slept in for days, but he wasn’t in a residential home either – so where on earth was he – was he on his own at home ? - what had she done with him ? – where and why had she left him abandoned ? - where to look for him even ? - (she did have a feeling he wouldn't be at home, but it seemed the best place to start looking) - so she tore off home in a great panic, distressed and angry with herself because she had been so totally thoughtless and devoid of normal care and consideration, and completely unable to speak to even TH about it as she dashed away……… and it was all just a dream…….. but so so real………

Strange, isn’t it.

A Rollercoaster of a day......

ChickPea and Mr Mutt were awaiting TH’s emergence from his place of employment this afternoon, so to pass the time (and because she’s only just discovered this unexpected aspect/resultant requirement of her mobile phone), ChickPea was ‘deleting sent messages’ ……… months’ and months’ and months’ worth………so there was heaps of stuff relating to DJ. Fairly ‘tame stuff’ maybe, but it was still unexpected, and more of a shock than anticipated.

Bereavement is like that, isn’t it. Just when you think you’re moving on, something grabs you by the ankle.

There’s a lot of this kind of stuff around in ChickPea’s day to day life at the moment, not least because her own Dad was dying slowly in the extreme south of England at the same time that DJ was moving into residence with her and TH in Scotland. So ‘Dad loss’ has been a compound experience spanning somewhat more than these five or so years. And I guess there’ll be yet more to reach the surface – as it does, and as it must.

Meantime, a very dear pal is living thru the heartache of losing a beloved pet who has been close friend and companion, and supported both heart and sanity thru recent divorce. Initial survival of pet was precarious about ten days back – apparent progress seemed to offer hope, and got pet home and seeming recovering – but now the blood tests show a hopeless outcome just a few days away. As Ms Mog is almost nineteen, and slowly but steadily fading away (tho still appears content, enjoying her food and occupying most of the bed all day - and much of it all night), ChickPea and TH feel very very aware of pal’s sadness.

And then, this evening, surprise, surprise – invitation to an ‘initial interview’ ! On Thursday. Yes – just three days’ time! Hardly time to draw breath. After recent knockbacks and several non-replies, one of the Jobseeking efforts of last week is daring look at ChickPea in the flesh ! Cor. Gosh…….. (panic)

Now, the chances of her getting to the next step may be most unlikely – and much as she had been thinking of part time hours, “five-going-on-fifty-something” is kinda young for green fields and horseplay – and maybe a change of direction into a satisfying employment course will need not only personal commitment but time dedicated to achieving change…….. At the very very least, another interview will be another most useful experience, and even just getting invited to interview is dead good for the morale, and … who knows what the future may hold ? She’s been saying she wants “to do something different”, and has been doing ‘head level’ reinventions of herself after all, and ambitious job applications ……. so will this chicken come home to roost ? ………..

It Takes Time

“It takes time. Aye………..it certainly does.”
“And what’s that, then ?”
“Oh – you know”.

Lots of things. Loads of things, even. Waiting for Christmas……for paint to dry…..…for yeast to rise when you’re making bread…… for a cake to cook…….. time to gather together the ingredients for a risotto…….. or for a soufflé, come to that.

And time for the bereavement process to lumber along……….

ChickPea thought she’d finished blogging the other night. Guess she had, kindof. Had finally published that post that Started Before, But Wouldn’t Finish…….( it just wasn’t cooked – somehow it wasn’t ‘complete’…… but HOW to finish it ? – What else did it need ? ………. so it sat, and festered ……… ok, ok – it MATURED)………..

And then, earlier that night, there came an almighty kick to the buttparts, and ChickPea realized that A Most Significant Post had not yet been written. Time had slipped by. And For Life To Be OK, It Needed To Be Written……… but ….. How On Earth Would It Start ?

I’m sure you’ve been there …… writing a book…..a postcard……. a sermon…… a letter……a blog post….…. The Wish is there, but The Muse hides in a cupboard somewhere……..(presumably a-mused)…..

And suddenly, Light Dawns…. (the chooks start muttering to themselves = the clockwork brain starts to move )…. and Then You Realize It’s Already There….. And Waiting….. Biding Its Time..… Waiting Till The Time Is Right……

And when that time has finally arrived, it can happen that the words just appear on the screen, and it all makes sense somehow – and if it’s not exactly right immediately, you kinda know which re-wording is The One To Keep…..

So ChickPea wuz kinda chuffed that Things Had Fallen Into Place. And, moreover, apparently, into an appropriate – even ‘right’ – place. Peace had been made. Life was ok. TH was in bed with his bug, and some NightNurse (no – not plural….) ….and was hopefully asleep….. At Last…….and hopefully thru till morning this time.

Then ChickPea took Mr Mutt out for his Late Night Constitutional. Whereupon another cupboard door opened, and out crept ‘Bereavemment’ in his best finery. Well, second-best finery. (‘Thankfully’ was right behind him, and distracted him a little, allowing ChickPea space ). Nonetheless, the two of them dogged her footsteps. And the bright bubble aftermath of blogging Was No More…….

To outwit The Descending Cloud, ChickPea Pondered……

Bereavement cannot, after all, be (successfully) outrun, out-manoeuvred or otherwise evaded. If you get a headstart, it will still catch you up. If you are very quick on your feet, you may think you’ve won….. but it still catches you up………eventually. Probably At An Inopportune Moment. If you grab it by the lapels and make it sit down, thinking that at least you know where it is, it will get up and Take You By Surprise when you least expect it…...

No, the only REAL, effective way is to accept it into your life for the time it takes, accept it as a guest, hopefully bringing some good memories but accepting the myriad tears and regrets and sadness………

No, you cannot evade Bereavement……… so allow it in, give it a cup of tea and a piece of cake, sit down with it, if you can, when you can, and accept the visit……

Dearest DJ. R.I.P.

We knew we were nearing this time, but expected ‘the day and the hour’ to be a while away yet. We were wrong.

Thankfully we had visited him in his Respite accommodation most days over last week, and had spent much of Sunday afternoon with him out in the sunshine in their garden. Though dozing much of the time, he clearly enjoyed both his own and my tea and egg custard pies, and surprised us with an appreciative comment regarding the roses. (He spent many years in his own garden, and cultivated beautiful roses which gave both him and his wife such joy). He was settled, appeared comfortable and at peace. This reportedly continued after we left. He enjoyed his supper and a later snack, and was sitting quietly in the communal lounge, apparently dozing in accustomed fashion.

But he had slipped away to The Next Realm. He had been so ready and waiting – and so impatient - to Go for so, so long.

May he Rest In Peace.