Sunday, November 30, 2008

Farewell Ella

Dear Ella,

The last thing I expected was that today would be the day I'd have to say goodbye to you. The last thing I expected was that our walk on Wednesday night would be the last one we'd take together. The last thing I expected was that you'd be in my life for four short years.

I had plans you see. Dog training plans, and you sitting curled up at my feet whilst I wrote a bestseller plans, and family holidays at places where you were welcome plans, and you growing up with the kids plans. I don't even think they were plans as such, I just knew they were going to happen. And now they're not just because of one horrible paralysis tick. It isn't fair.

I sit here, tired and teary, and my head is crowded with memories of you. How you loved to hide under the cubby house and you'd pop up out from under it looking like you'd just had a really cool adventure. Hubby and I used to speculate you had a jacuzzi and a kick-arse stereo system under there. I loved that you could spend hours scuttling around the herb garden, unsucessfully catching skinks and making the air smell of lavender and thyme.

How you always knew that sneakers meant walk time and you'd twirl and twirl with delight so it was impossible to get the lead on. How, no matter where I was, you were there, just a few metres away keeping an eye on things. How the kids would try to feed you and you would only eat the delicacies you particularly liked. How the kids could drag you around and you'd never so much as blink at it, just give me that hang-dog look as if to say 'now would be a good time to rescue me,' - and I always did.

How when the kids were on the naughty chair you'd always go and visit them. How you'd peep through the cracks in the fence when we were going somewhere in the car without you. How you'd sell your own mother for a schmackos. How you hated getting up in the morning as much as I do. How you'd give me that eyes-half-shut I love you doggy smile. How you were without doubt the best catcher and eater of flies Australia has ever seen. How you had the softest ears.

Words cannot say how much I will miss you dear friend. Rest in peace beautiful Ella.

6 people love me:

Kirsty C said...

Oh, Cait. I'm so sorry. I'll be thinking of you today.


Lyndel said...

Poor Ella, this totally sucks.My heart goes out to you all.

Jess Dee said...

Oh, Cait.
I am so, so, so sorry.

Rachael Johns said...

Cait so sorry to hear of your loss! Pets become such a special and important part of our lives...

Bron said...


So sorry to hear of Ella's passing.


Caitlyn Nicholas said...

Thanks for the hugs and for thinking of me. I sat up late having a good cry and writing this post. It actually helped a lot, to be able to tell everyone about what had happened. I think it put it into perspective for me.