Thursday, 19 February 2009
Bit of this
A man in a blue bobble hat, stood at the bus stop, has a shaggy small dog asleep in a pink push-chair.
Whippet has his 1st of lead walk for weeks. His whole body exudes cheerfulness. Ears back, big grin, wiggling from nose to tail. We meet others on our round. On the way home we call to see Andrew. Whippet knows the way by now. Someone has put flowers on his grave. Gone but not forgotten. He has been dead now longer than he lived, I am greatly cheered. To be forgotten would be as if you had never been.
Kneading soft yeasty dough. It is always a magical childlike moment to peek in the bowl and find is has risen.
Bit if this
Looking up at me from his bath
"how long have I been alive mum"
four years I say
He thinks for a minute and smiles
"thats not long is it mum, I haven't used up much yet then"
(exactly half, and most of that was fighting a loosing battle)
He couldn't wait to grow up, then he would be well, after all in his experience only children have cancer