The most beautifully tragic love story I could have experienced.
Roo was born in a rescue centre on the 16th January 2008 in Dorset, UK. Just a few months old covered in mange, she landed on my lap and that was it, we had each other.
Roo went through the good the bad and the ugly with me, broken homes, broken relationships, broken friendships, losing jobs, losing houses, lone parenting you name it, she stuck by my side, she helped me overcome everything I needed too, she licked away my tears, she made me laugh when I needed it. Nearly 14 years later she became sick, diagnosed with arthritis in 2020 pressured her mobility but that didn’t stop her, she still enjoyed life. She learnt to swim, she loved it, it helped her massively. She still enjoyed life. October 2021 she was diagnosed with mouth Cancer. Within 7 weeks her health took a drastic decline. At the final week she was unable to stomach food, take medication or be mobile. I wanted to pick her up and take the pain away like she had done for me for all these years. She became so tired.
Tuesday 7th December she hobbled out to the garden and laid out on the grass while it was raining, she gave me this look, a look that I’d never seen in her eyes before, a sicky feeling in my stomach that it was her message to me, telling me it was time.
The couple of days after she had lots of visitors and video calls from all the people that loved her.
The morning of 9th December 2021 was predicted rain, Roo got up, she walked outside the sun was shining, the birds were singing. Roo always listened to the birds as she got older, I think it was her retirement pleasure. My partner, myself and my daughter stayed outside with her for a while, when she came back in we let her lay in her bed one last time. 11.40am it was time to leave, we drove to the vets, my daughter stayed in the back with her the whole way.
The vet decided she would come outside to send her to a permanent slumber. With my daughter and my Partner present Roo put her head in my hands and went to sleep.
It was emotional, for the first time in a long time she looked so peaceful, like she needed to rest. I lay her head on my lap all the way to the crematorium. Here comes a weird part, I was laying on roo stroking her head in the back of the van along the motorway. A bird of prey flew into the windscreen which made me sit up, at that very moment a car went past with the last 3 letters of the numberplate ROO. Now take what you want from this but the chances of seeing that at that moment are slim to none.
We got to the crematorium early so we spent some more time with Roo, this helped my daughter, she’s 9 and she’s never been without Roo, they’re like glue. Roo was then taken into the goodbye room, we spend more time with her, I couldn’t help but just stroke her, Roo had a big thick furry neck that I always pressed my head into, especially in bed or in the mornings. Kisses on her nose like we always did. The time in that room is something we would cherish forever. All 3 of us wheeled her to the kiln chamber, she had her blanket, piggy, a letter from my daughter, a goat strip and a marshmallow for her journey.
My partner and daughter sat in the remembrance garden while I took roo through. You see, it started off with just me and her, I owed it to her that it would end the same way.
The wonderful gentleman and myself lifted her on to the trolley, I gave her a kiss and we put her in the chamber and closed the door. Will (the gentleman who handles the kiln) wanted to say a prayer. With my wish He said something like. ‘God bless you Roo, may the light guide you through to where you want to be, and your mum said please don’t bite anyone‘ It may sound weird but at that moment I felt content. I wasn’t sad, I was filled with all of the joy she gave me.
I went back out to my daughter and partner as we watched to smoke drift into the sky, my beautiful girl in the atmosphere, all around me.
The drive home was a quite one, we were in tears, I muzzled my head into her other blanket and cried until I fell asleep, her collar tied around my wrist. I didn’t want to walk into the front door knowing she wasn’t there.
We did it, we took the first step. I slept in Roos bed on the first night. It was hard I kept playing the videos on my phone of her.
The next day her ashes were delivered to my door, I couldn’t let it go, I didn’t want it to get cold because roo hated the cold. My little bundle of stardust is all I have left.
We’re now on the 4th day without her and I must admit, it’s got harder each day. There’s part of me that is missing, I want to see her face. I miss her, I miss the responsibilities that were part of her senior journey. I miss rubbing her belly, how happy she was when she would wake up at midnight for ‘yoggy midnight’ to have yoghurt with her medication. Everything is still in place like she never left, but she’s the only thing that missing. I must learn to live with the pain, but for now I will grieve hard, because without her, I don’t know what to do.