Monday 27 February 2017

Eating the Roses






Facebook certainly knows how to rub it in. The above memories of Mr Cheeky flashed up on Valentine's Day from the same day two years ago when our little monkey decided to try and eat my Valentine's roses! Everything was for him in his catty mind!

In fact we could never have plants or flowers in the flat as he would soon demolish them one way or another. His funeral flowers have miraculously lasted nearly four weeks by comparison as Django is very respectful of plants.

I am a bit better now about not bursting into tears at inopportune times, but I still expect to see him around every corner in the flat. Writing the following poem helped a bit. 

The Grim Reaper’s Mate (Grief)

Whether you yearn to hear a key in the door
The flip of a catflap or the pitter patter of a paw
Grief doesn’t differentiate
Whether you’ve lost a person or a pet
It fillets your innards with pain so raw
You just don’t want to carry on any more
Your appetite is stolen and so is your sleep
You ache all over, no tears left to weep
The longing to rewind time won’t go away
You feel you’d give anything for just one more day
The what ifs’ and if onlys’ claim the wee small hours
It’s an effort to think about new dawns and showers
You make silly mistakes like putting kettles in fridges
And confusing an onion with a Golden Delicious
Your car drives you in unintended directions
You’ve aged ten years overnight when you catch your reflection
The rain doesn’t move you and nor does the sun
Will you ever smile again, let alone have fun?
You want to be alone but crave company too
Though no friend can bring back what you need them to
Yes, you’d give up a winning lottery ticket to have things back as they were
Whether you’re grieving the loss of a human loved one or a babe with fur

©LS King 2017



1 comment:

Michael said...

She looks really adorable from the pictures. I feel kinda same way as my dog just passed away recently. I had his body at pet cremation houston tx and scattered his remains over our favorite field where we used to play.