Well, this is a difficult one for me as I’m positioned by others and never with a self serving camera. Yet. So I’m taking the liberty of posting a daughter’s selfie and allowing myself to do this because she took it on my camera.
When my one remaining dog died in April the habit sized hole of daily dog walking vanished like Alice into Wonderland. Conections severed.
My boys spent their lives together and Flynn, the younger and well behaved edition of Dogs Carmichael, was bereft when Bertie died in 2012.
His canine companion gone Flynn started following me round the house standing in any room I was in. Waiting for me to come back and be in the one room where he could relax. It was odd and, it must be said, a little annoying. I guess it was an old age thing. When you’re 98 and your best bud vanishes it’s not really too much of a surprise that you become a tad peculiar.
I vowed I would keep walking. And for a while I did. But when it’s raining and there are no big brown pleady eyes guilt tripping me I’ll admit I have struggled to force myself out the front door. My connection to the Chess River, Chorleywood Common and Old Shire Lane is disappearing. I would like to move.
I vowed to do more with my new freedom. This I told myself, and anyone else who would listen, is my time. My time to travel, to work, to learn and not to be tied to hearth and home as much as I have over the last twenty four some years.
I also vowed not to get another dog. Getting a puppy would swirl me right into a time warp. I’d be back in Kansas whereas I’m hoping for a taste of Oz.
But habits die hard. I’m feeling disconnected.
Last Thursday I almost got a puppy.
How could anyone resist her? The cuteness, the colouring and the pose. She is giving off Carmichael attitude in bucket loads.
I’d chosen the flowery Bella Bean collar and I’d shortlisted her names to Desirée or Lettis. Mr Carmichael would have had a conniption over both those choices but that, I can assure you, is not why I stopped myself.
I didn’t get her because right now, at this stage in my life, I need to stick to my guns. To make new connections and create different habits. I need to do more and different stuff.
Tell me I’m wrong.
I would love you to read these posts written about my beautiful boys if you haven’t already.
My love affair with desert warmth and blue skies continues with this post. Hot of the press from the Albert Frey house Carmichael mom and pop are renting is the first pic I snapped yesterday morn staggering from bed to sun lounger.
This London gal could get used to a view of such perfection.