Missing you, Jezzie


Cornwall Holiday Oct 2004 Dogs at Perranporth

Dear Jezzie

Last night I had a lovely dream that we were both young again, and playing in the local park, and running round in the rain. We could both run very fast then and chase the balls that Mum threw, and I would always be the first to get there, just before you.

I’d grab the ball as quick as poss and run round and round with it. Mum would call me back to her, but I’d still not let you have it. I miss those long gone days of our youth which were so full of fun when we both could chase after squirrels and rabbits on the run.

Mum took me to that park last night and it brought memories back, of days when you would go off first and then I’d follow your track; days when we’d walk together, me on Mum’s left, you on Mum’s right; days when we’d play together all day, sleep together at night.

But we grew much older and then you got all stroppy with me, when you became so jealous if I ever went near Mum’s knee. I gave up trying to beat you then, I knew it made you cross, so I was resigned to keep the peace, and let you be the boss.

But now you’ve gone away somewhere I miss having you around, I miss your constant barking: I could never outdo that sound! I miss teasing you when you were lying snoozing in the chair: I’d go and nudge up to Mum, you would then soon get out of there!

I miss sitting quietly with you while Mum prepared her lunch, hoping that if we were good girls she’d throw us something to munch. I miss following your scent around when I was on my walk, because I went out after you – oh how your footsteps could talk!

I miss my little sister, though you were such a pain to me but I loved it so when we went out together, just we three. Remember how I nudged you when we walked along the pavement? You didn’t seem to mind, I think you knew it was endearment.

Mum says you have gone to Heaven. I hope you are happy there. It’s quiet here without you, and I’m still searching everywhere. But, until we can be together, I’ll see you in my dreams of days when we were young and fit and racing through seaside streams.

Your loving sister, Myschka

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