Monday, 18 March 2013


We went to see old friends of ours on Sunday, whose dog Jake is a couple of years older than Jasper. Although he's a cocker spaniel, he's got a very similar face - black with those big brown soulful eyes, and even has the same grey muzzle. He's always reminded me of Jasper, which is something I'd forgotten about until we went to visit.

He does that head butting thing that Jasper did when he wanted attention; if you stop petting him, he pushes his head under your arm. It was nice - really nice - to stroke a dog again and hold a little furry face in my hands, but god it was hard. It was only as I was saying things to Jake that I realised they were the doggyisms I said to Jasper. The way I scratched behind his ears and rubbed the top of his nose was the same. It made the absence of our dog more apparent, and that was very difficult to cope with.

Our friend asked if we would get another dog. Paul is certain that he wants another, but I'm just not sure. I hate not having a dog in the house. Hate it. It's unbearably, painfully quiet when I'm here working on my own. I miss the tapping of his nails on the floors, the thudding of his massive tail on the walls and radiator (or whatever he was standing next to at the moment), his bark when the doorbell goes. Having a pet is very therapeutic - I just can't feel shitty when I'm stroking a dog.

On the other hand, I never want to go through the loss of a pet again. Jasper was my first pet and although I always knew that day would come, it's been horrible. It's only been just over a month and everything is still so raw, and I know that it's not the right time to decide about doing this all again. I think, as my lovely friend Kari said, I will simply know when the time is right. Right now, I wouldn't be able to look at a new dog without comparing him to Jasper and perhaps having unfair expectations of how he should behave.

One day, maybe. Probably. One day.

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