I often shared on here pictures of our beautiful dog Rozzy living her best life, so it feels appropriate that I share with you my realisations from losing her so suddenly.
She was originally from Romania, had survived firstly on the streets, and then in terrible conditions, in a shelter (kill centre) for at least two years. She was brought to the UK by a charity and her foster family worked wonders with her. When we adopted her, she was still incredibly shy and remained wary all her life with good reason considering the abuses she had suffered.
It took us four years to begin to really see the blossoming of the affectionate chatting sweetheart, that was inside the traumatised shell. Lots of hard work, persistence, patience, and love.
I will never forget walking her in our second week together, she would suddenly stop and look behind her, as if she was being followed. It took me ages to work out that she was catching sight of her own tail wagging, which was obviously unfamiliar to her.
After six months I was first able to stroke her. She was still incredibly tense but very very slowly began to relax. She had a wonderful life with us, she was so loved not just by us, but by the whole local dog walking community. Everybody, always commented on how beautiful she was, like a little seal-pup with her neat black eyeliner, nose, lipstick and nail-varnish.
It’s only now I’m realising just how much she gave us back. Her wake-up call, coming to check on us all with her funny yodelling voice! Getting us out and walking twice a day every day no matter what the weather. Sharing her absolute delight and joy, just at the privilege of moving freely. Helping me slow down and look around me as she sniffed and weed on everything she passed! And in the last few weeks, as I was dealing with my father‘s death, she would come up to me while I was working and just lay her head on my lap enjoying me stroking her silky ears, and me getting such comfort from her soft velvet head and deep, growly exhale. I keep expecting her to just walk in.
We had just got into the routine of her understanding that, weekends were when she should come up and snuggle on the bed with us and she was becoming very expert at jumping up and finding the best position to curl up in.
She was run over by a bus. I still can’t believe it, it feels like we were halfway through a conversation. We still had so much more to talk about. I’m so very grateful that we were able to recover her body and lay her to rest in her favourite spot in the border. Back in the den with her pack where she belonged. She will always be in my heart.
She taught me so much about boundaries and really what looking after yourself well, day-in, day-out looks like. The power of repetition, stillness and balance. She massively expanded my social network with people and dogs, she helped me be fully present and unproductive- just enjoying being together. She was like my live in therapist- just with really bad breath.
My youngest daughter has summed up how we feel very eloquently:
“We have dog-love in our hearts. Specific love just for dogs which can’t be spent anywhere else, and the love we were spending on Rozzy is now flooding our systems. We need another doggy outlet or we’ll drown.”
I agree with her that the only way forward is to adopt another dog.
There will never be another Rozzy, she was so refined, and taught us so much. She has left us with a legacy, that we hope to pay forward.
We got her from the charity Safe Rescue For Dogs who do amazing work. If you are thinking of getting a dog PLEASE look at them. There are literally hundreds of dogs of every size, shape and age, doomed to a short, grim, stressful life in a dire public shelter. It seems so wrong to create new life when there are lives wasting away. These dog have so much to give and even when it ends prematurely, there is nothing more rewarding for you or the dog, than seeing another life blossom into its full potential. Whether that's the dog's, yours, or both.