Saturday, March 31, 2012
Yesterday marks three months since Ernie and Ruby died. That's slightly more than the time they lived with us here in England. It's amazing how time passes.
I still miss them every day. Those dogs were a constant source of joy. It's funny how my brain blocks out all the bad stuff -- the cleaning and laundry, the disinfecting and medicating -- and remembers only the way they'd cuddle up next to me on the couch, or greet me at the door, or snore in bed at night.
Yesterday I ran into a neighbor in the courtyard, walking his little terrier, Sam. He asked how we were coping with the loss of our dogs. I told him we still miss them, and he offered to let us keep Sam for Christmas! It was a nice offer, though one that no doubt benefitted him too. I made a politely enthusiastic but non-committal response!
Dave and I have discussed getting another dog or two, but we think it's still too early. We have a lot of traveling to do, places to go and things to see, and besides, a rented flat on the sixth floor is not the best environment for dogs. (Especially young, energetic dogs.) I think we need to wait until we move to a permanent home, preferably with a yard. (Or "garden," as they say here in England.)
Speaking of traveling, Dave and I have made plans to go to Paris after school lets out in June. He's on Spring Break for the next two weeks, but we're staying in London on a "staycation." In fact, we'll have visitors April 6-14 -- the couple who kept Ernie and Ruby for us last summer while we moved and got situated. (Our deal was we'd bring them to London and put them up if they'd watch the dogs.) Life goes on!
(Photo: Reflections in Shoreditch, March 17.)