Wednesday 16 February 2011

A Story of Loss


I walked through the back door and across the crooked patio. I stepped down on to the gravel hearing it crunch under my feet. A lifeless air hung, grey clouds looming over the desolate vegetable patch foretold the coming of winter.

As I reached the gate, I found my family huddled in a small circle. I was met with forced smiles. I kneeled down and reached over the small fence running my hands through the silky fur. She seemed as always spriteful and contented.

As I turned my gaze, I was met with the small creature placed lightly in my husband's hands. So tiny. So small. The brushings of black and white fur proved its claim for life. As we placed it into the small hole and blessed it with our prayers, I was overcome with a feeling that I could have done more.

That night as I lay in bed, one hand placed lightly over my abdomen, I was haunted by the feeling of loss and an unbearable realization that there was no control of losing something so small and fragile.

The next day I was told that they were unable to find a heartbeat.



*image of Pinky taken by Amira