- Untitled
- The season begins
- Jan 2010
- Feb 2010
- March 2010
- April 2010
- May 2010
- Ski Pictures 2010
- June 2010
- July 2010
- August 2010
- September 2010
- October 2010
- Late October
- November
- December 2010
- January 2011
- February
- The European Youth Olympic Festival
- March 2011
- The season ends
- May and June 2011
- End of June
- July
- August in Yorkshire
- September 2011
- 28 October 2011
- November/December 2011
- Season 2012
- February 2012
- March and April
- June
- 'Summer' 2012
When luck runs out
We took a break in October. Honor's dance school was staging its bi-annual performance at half-term and,to the dismay of her ski coaches, we decided to stay put in Yorkshire and let her participate. She has spent so many of her holidays training that I wanted to make it a special. A friend came to stay with pony and they chilled for a few days, with the odd rehersal and gym class thrown in course. Then at the end of the week-end the pace began to hot up as it always seems to.
Friday was manic. Day two of the show, we started with the blacksmith at 8 a.m, which meant leaving the house at seven. Then straight from there to cross country training with the ponies: a two hour session, especially working on optimum time. I wasn't riding but ambled around with the dogs who love to travel in the lorry. We were back at lunch time (ish), but Honi had an appointment for a long overdue haircut so I parked the lorry, jumped in the car, dropped her in town with a sandwich from a garage, told her to walk back, got home, turned out the ponies, then jumped in the car again. The Skoda was due an MOT, urgently, because I had confused the two cars, which are both N reg, and got the Subarru done prematurely. It was a 'while you wait' job so I stocked up at Tescos while I was waiting.
Next on the list was to collect shavings. But I got a phone call from a friend whose daugher kindly rides our miniature Shetland, Charlie, asking to come over. I explained about the shavings and she said, as she has a truck, she would pick me some up on the the way. That was a bonus as I was already up against time. I caught up Charlie; she arrived, we unloaded the shavings, and the shopping which was still in the car. Tim offered to give the dogs a walk which was another bonus. I was frazzled and hadn't really eaten which is unusual for me but the opportunity had not really presented itself.
It was Tim's turn to watch the show. I had been for the opening night and was down to help out for the final Saturday performance. It was good as was Honi, but I was looking forward to having a night off. I had a lot on my mind and wanted some space. I cooked her an omlette and told her to hurry. Once I had dropped her up to the dressing room by responsibilities were over for the day. The house was a tip; feeling a bit guilty about my domestic incompetence and the indolent evening I had ahead of me, and a bit bad tempered because no-one else ever clears up anything, I decided to take the recycling and stop at the Co-op on the way home. I donned a filthy old coat. Told Honi to get a move one, and picking up the box, went out the back door.
Twenty minutes later I was home, putting a fish pie in the microwave and pouring a glass of wine. The phone rang. It was the vet. She told me Xiong was with her. I was sure she was mistaken. I wasted time calling her name only to find Lucky was alone in the dog beds. I drove like a mad women to the surgery but by the time I arrived it was too late.
As I had left the house, rushed, stressed, and a trying to be supermum, I had not closed the back door. Dressed in my dog walking coat and carrying a box I could have looked as if I was going for a walk, or a journey. Although just returned from a walk, Xiong may well have caught my mood and wanted to be with me. In the three years we have lived in our house we have never closed the gate and neither of the dogs have ever shown any interest in leaving the premises. But this time they did.
'Why', I have asked myself, time and time again, 'did I leave the door open?' Or, in that I did make a mistake, could luck not have been on my side? I might have seen her behind me. The car might have missed, or she might have recovered from the blow. I might have least have got there in time. But I didn't, it didn't and she didn't. And we didn't even have chance to say goodbye.
Sometimes luck is on your side and sometimes it isn't. She was very special and we mourned big time. I don't think one 'gets over' grief. I think we learn to live with it; put it away in a compartment and keep the lid on most of the time; but it stays with us, and becomes part of who we are.