Thursday, 25 June 2015

Remembering Our Beloved Pet After One Year

It's been one year since our beloved dog Ricko left us.

It was a terribly sad day for everyone. He'd been part of our family for about 12 years and was always happy to just be.
When Mr 9 was Mr 2, with Ricko

Ricko was a tri-colour King Charles Cavalier. He had that soft, silky fur that kids can't keep their hands off. He was effeminate. He didn't particularly like to get his feet wet.

He loved to bask in the sun with his mouth open, his tongue poking out ever so slightly until he saw you and caught you looking at him. Then the mouth closed firm, until he looked away and let it drop open again. Hours of fun in that.

He was Lucy's best friend. Lucy, the staffie, bossed him around and was often a little rough with Ricko, especially as he got older and the arthritis and blindness kicked in. Ricko knew how to handle her, though.

He would leave the bed or spot they were resting in, take a few steps away and then bark, as though he'd seen something amiss. Lucy would jump to her feet and run to investigate while Ricko silently slipped back into his spot and watched her work. He was brilliant.

Always together

Ricko left Lucy behind and anyone who knows dogs will understand when I say she was sad. She knew her friend was gone and for a while she would wander around, looking, sitting awkwardly as if waiting for him to walk in the room. Her ears pricked up when we mentioned his name. It was heartbreaking.

We still miss him but we make a point of talking about him a lot, laughing at stories about him. We often look at photos of him and we keep a little stone with his name engraved on it in the lounge room.

In the garden, we planted a rose. Ricko's rose. It was a bitch of a plant with uncontrollable growth and deadly thorns, so we replaced it. You've got to be practical, right? It's what he would have wanted.

I'm thinking about Ricko today because Miss 6 brought her English book home from school this afternoon. It's full and she'll need a new one for next term.  Flicking through the pages, I came across a story titled Pets. I nearly spat my tea all over it when I read the last sentence.

My pet used to have a buddy but my dad took him to the vet.


Have you lost a pet and what do you do to remember your fluffy loved one?

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