Doors close, doors open.

Lingering on grief is not part of my plan for remembering Mr T, but I have had to process a chest compressing weight of churning emotions.  You have all been there; my experience is neither special nor unique

A big part of what I feel is a heavy guilt.  I never for a second wished Tigger away.  All I ever wished for him was that when his time came it would be without a long slow decline, and without suffering.  Part of the guilt is that he may indeed have been suffering – he never let us know, or we were not paying the right kind of attention never having developed the language between us for that. The other part of the guilt is that a door having closed on that chapter of our lives shared with Tigger, doors are opening all around me and I am not so blinded by grief that I can’t see them.  Some were already open before he left us, and it is easy to wonder when you have imbued your fur friend with as much anthropomorphic qualities as I did, that he knew and was clearing the way for us.

Of course he didn’t.  He stayed as long as he could and went when he needed to, but I had made a point of telling him just before the last breath that if he was ever in a place where his spirit energy could ‘look down’ on us, or seek to wrap itself around us, that we would not always be in this place, and he might have to look for us in parts foreign again.

I will try to tell myself that what he said in return was "you still have life, go out and live it - like I embraced the move to Greece and all the changes that wrought in my life, like the interest I showed in nearly everything that whizzed past my windows - whether the windows were moving or static - scenes from the balcony, views from the Donkey, the van and trains and ferries...I was piqued by all of it.  So go on...be piqued, slope your ears forward, widen your eyes, take it all in, examine, absorb, grow, think, share, and above all trust.  Trust too that it will all be alright in the end."

Door close, doors open.

He mastered lifts, I wonder what he would have made of revolving doors.  I don't recall ever having shared one with him.

Cupboard doors

Moving floors

Hold them close, show them your love, never betray their trust.

(A little note here that Mr T was at the V-E-T on Thursday for what looked like an allergic reaction and although the vet detected a lump in his tummy by pressing and feeling, he never made a noise. Both the vet and Mr B believed it wasn't causing pain and he was booked for a scan the next Wednesday. That evening I noticed that he was walking carefully like cats walk when they are stretching themselves, and he moved with more caution over Friday and Saturday but was still going up and downstairs, out inspecting the garden, jumped onto the bed etc. Unbelievable - I expect I didn't see properly because I didn't want to imagine....On Sunday he left us.)

And if you have read this far I want thank every human and animal who sent us a message of condolence and support.  It was truly humbling.  I would have liked to thank you all personally with comments to your blogs etc but you don't all blog and that makes it even more precious that you took the time to send your kind messages.

In a blog we follow, Angus wrote: "Kindness is not often reported on but when you look for it you find it's not only alive but kicking."

You have all been so kind.