Our first walk of the day, at this time of year, is generally in the dark.  I’m out there with both Skye (our Border Collie), Ziggy (our Maine Coon cat), and a torch :).

I find that it’s a great time to reflect on the past, on today, and on the future.  While Skye is scampering around looking to find out who has been in ‘her’ field overnight, and what they did; I walk up and down the field letting my mind wander. 

The sky is an inspiration.  Sometimes it’s so bright, with a full moon that I don’t need the torch; and at other times, even with the torch I can hardly see in front of my feet.


Today was a quarter of the moon, blue skies with clouds rushing past, and a number of stars.  We can always tell if there are stars around as Skye seems to think if she ‘chats’ to them, they will respond :).


As I was walking down the field (on my first lap) I started to think about an article I had seen on Facebook.  The couple were very concerned about their Border Collie and were sharing their feelings.  The comments were interesting and included thoughts about how they felt to the practical of ‘take your dog to the vet, and they can tell you what to do’.

It reminded me of two of our cats who are having fun (cuddling and playing) at Rainbow Bridge, just waiting for the rest of us.


Smudge – a stray who turned up on our front door – very ill with a broken back hip, fought to stay with us for as long as he could.  With the FELV virus and other infection challenges, he survived (with the help of our wonderful vet) for just over a year.  One Sunday, he and I were sitting upstairs on the sofa; and he made the decision that his time had come.  With one last breath, he let go.

Sebby – one of two brothers – who has been with my partner from 6 weeks old has suffered with tumours for many years.  Again, with the support of two vets and doses of C-oil he survived for several years.  He was a cat who was usually around my partner (his brother generally being with me); but one Monday he came to me and just wanted to be with me.  We talked about it and we knew that he wasn’t doing well.  After many operations to remove tumours, one had grown ‘too deep’, and we felt that he was trying to tell us that it had taken over his body.  We had to make that very hard decision.


So as I was walking up and down the field, following Skye’s path to see what she was ‘finding’; I started to reflect on the decisions we take and, before Skye brought me back into the ‘real world’ the last thought I had was ‘do we reflect on our decisions often enough?’

Issue 7 of Amarantine focuses on Reflections and in reading the articles and editorials,
it made me realise that when we reflect we get our answers.