Friday, December 28, 2012
December 28. Day 363. Love hurts
I clearly remember crying for days when our golden Labrador Tamson was killed on the road in front of our house. The pain seemed unbearable.
We'd been given the beautiful creature by the parish priest who, bizarrely, had himself been given her by a couple in gratitude for marrying them. There is no love quite like puppy love.
Pets have a special place in a child's heart. For my own son the first pet death was of a pet mouse.
He decided we needed to have a burial and so we all gathered solemnly in the back garden. He then announced that we should each say a few words. And so we did even his grandmother and father who quite frankly never could stand the mice. It was memorable indeed.
Today there is heartbreak in my Mum's home where a pet cat has disappeared.
Not much more than a kitten, the little one journeyed from Sydney with my brother and his family for the Christmas holidays.
It was securely left in a closed up section of the house until someone left the door open and it fled.
Signs have been erected around the area but as I type there still no cat.
Tears all round. Yep, creatures like these wasps I photographed as I walked the streets today will deliver a sting but there is no pain worse than the pain of a broken heart.