She’s Gone…..

Gypsys bone

 

Forty-nine years, Seven months and twenty-one days. That was how long I had lasted without a pet.

The Moore family didn’t do pets. Not unless you count the monumental error of judgement by my Dad, bringing a wild rabbit home once after stunning it with his car, and which we subsequently had the dubious privilege of watching die of mixamatosis some days later.

I didn’t like Cats, stinky pee, and very arrogant, selfish creatures.

Nor was I overly fond of dogs. I could never understand people crying when they lost their pet, as though it were a real member of the family. It made no sense to me. Dogs, their kaka made me want to throw up, their barking drove me crazy. Insensitive owners used to bring their dogs down our street when I was a kid, I remember, they would let them crap outside the ladies hairdressers, which was run from the front room of a private home. Eventually, the owner had had enough, and she scooped up the crap in an envelope, followed the dog owner home and posted it through the letterbox. So I was not predisposed to dogs.

Then, last week, she appeared. Padding around daintily in the gardens beneath our balcony. A tiny thing really, with something of the look of a fox about her. She would gaze forlornly up at our window and then scamper off to make her little bed by the palm tree. It was heartbreaking. The next day, when Miki and I ventured out, there she was, a mess of emotions. Clearly having suffered at the hands of her previous owner, she simultaneously cowered and begged for affection, it completely tore us in two. Within two days “gypsy” had installed herself in the living room. We began caring for her, laughing in delight at her rituals of pretending to hide food, scrunching up her towel to make her little bed, and her constant “high-fiving “ with her paw to get attention.

We rode an emotional rollercoaster for the next few days, from denying that we loved her, to deciding to keep her, to realising, ultimately, that our disjointed, travelling life would not be the best for her. Then, anxiety set in. could we reasonably expect to get her placed with someone else before we left for Albir in just a few days. Putting her back where we found her was unthinkable, and the local P.A.W.S. charity had no spare places for her.

Mercifully, a Spanish woman who lived nearby and had also taken an interest in her said she had found a family who would adopt her. We thought we would have a few more days with Gypsy, but the woman returned that afternoon to take her to her new home. It all happened so fast, and when we returned to the apartment, it seemed so empty.

It is rare that I surprise myself, but I had no idea that I could feel this way for an animal. We genuinely miss her. She was a beautiful, loving and playful dog who never barked once, and even though we looked after her for so short a time, I don’t think we’ll ever forget her. I hope she’s happy in her new home.

Kev Moore

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3 Responses to “She’s Gone…..”

  1. I loved the picture at the beginning of this post. Gypsy was so lucky for you to provide temporary shelter and find a good home for her. That was a neat story 🙂

  2. That’s so sweet!

  3. It is kinda sweet, isnt it? I thought the picture really captured the fact that she’s gone..the bone left behind. I just wallow in the melancholy, huh?

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