Well she had a good run...

She was my cat. Thought I'd better put that up there first, she wasn't a person.  My Katie died the day before yesterday, and I'm so sad about it. I really, really, really don't like it when anyone says 'well, she had a good run'. I've heard people say this when a person dies very old. It's like I'm not supposed to be sad because of it. If your Granny dies at 98, you shouldn't be sad because she's 'had a good run'?!  And another thing... 'he's had a good innings'... give me strength! If this is the only thing you have to say, then say nothing. Please.

Back to my Katie, she was about 3 weeks away from being 20yrs old. Careful now. Don't say it. When she was well she was a fairly big fluffy girl. Hold on, I shall try to find a photo for you.

There we are, a little pic of her sunbathing one summer and one of her looking really well and healthy. That's the way to remember her.

If you're not a pet, you won't understand this. I haven't had any children of my own (long story, let's not go there today) and my pets are part of my family. When my ex-husband left me, Katie was a big part of my life. I came home from work every day to a cold empty house and she would be there. Aside from the fact that I also had a budgie in a cage which Katie thought was her packed lunch.

I've had a tough couple of months. Can't put my finger on anything that's caused it, but depression is like that. Sudden slides into melancholy, with no reason or rhyme.

I guess there's one reason, maybe. Every day constantly cleaning up the pee and poo of 2 little puppies. They are gorgeous, loving, playful and I love 'em to bits, but So. Much. Poo. You would never believe how much mess they can create. We have puppy pads, big square sheets of quilted paper, for them to use. So it goes like this:

Me:     You like to pee just here, I'll put a pad down for you to use.
Pupps: Look! She's put this paper thing right where I like to pee. I'll have to find              somewhere else now!

This happens over and over again 😧

They are lovely though, and this stage won't last forever. It's hard to toilet train them to go out in the garden when this time of year is cold, wet and gets dark so early. They don't want to go there then, and I can't say I blame them. We'll get there though. As a depressive, it's hard to face this big clean up first thing every morning. Although tch will have cleaned up once before he went to work, he will also have fed them... which means more lovely poo. When I go down to them I'm trying to clean up the poo and the pee whilst they are throwing themselves at me in joy and probably jumping through the mess as they do it. Focus on the joy. Focus on the joy. I'm sitting in my bed writing to you and it's 9am. Soon I must venture forth into the land of funny smells, to do battle.

There's another thing, the puppy smell. I'm not talking about the lovely aromas that emanate from the back end. The smell of a puppy's neck is one of the most wonderful smells in the world. Aside from the mass clean-ups these two have been fantastic for my mental health. I will just be glad when I don't have to cope with the mess all day long.

I showed you a photo of a now-dead cat, so here's a more cheerful one of 'the girls'.

 This was a couple of weeks after we had them in September. Two and a half months later and they are a fair bit bigger. The shorter one's a staffordshire bull terrier and the taller one's an Italian greyhound. I love this photo though. I'll try to find a more up to date one to show you another day.

My thought to end this entry is something I said earlier: it won't last forever. So when you're having a shit day and maybe it feels like everything is going wrong, try to think 'it won't last forever'. It sometimes helps me.

LoadsaLove x