As I came round the bend and
up the hill, changing to second gear, the gear stick decided it was a good time
to snap. I was amazed at how calmly I dealt with this, checking behind me for
other vehicles – none. Nothing coming the other way either. Well I would be ok,
just needed to manage the next two miles home. With the gears engaged alright
the car was still moving but the gear stick completely floppy. With two corners
yet to turn, I decided on a test gear change while nothing was about. Like
fumbling around in the dark with keys trying open a lock, I managed to wiggle
the stick somehow into third. Presto! Kept up a slow but steady pace to the
junction, rolled down the hill and then into the drive! Figured, not having
driven for five weeks, I could manage a few more.
I wouldn’t usually take such
things in my stride, but with my mind and body having been in stress overload
for several weeks, it seemed quite easy to shrug shoulders, manage the situation
and accept that this is life and it’s only a car!
It’s six weeks since surgery. How
quickly life resumes where you left off! Never a dull moment in our household!
There was the stray collie dog on Tuesday morning. Having dropped Sarah at the
train station and then not remembering to pop into the supermarket even though I
practically drove past it (brain has gone to mush – I blame the Tamoxifen) I
arrived back at home, going about household chores, taking laundry out to the
tumble drier in the garage. I saw the cat sat under the van, but looked again,
the eyes were so big! Not a cat, a dog. He didn’t move. Just as well, dogs and
I, not a good combination!
“You know how you’ve always
wanted a dog Maisie? Well I’ve got you one, he’s outside”
Miles (he soon had a name and
was seemingly trying to move in with us) had moved from under the van to the
warm and dry of the far corner of the garage. We chopped up the one small piece
of cooked chicken that we had in the house, cooked some rice, fed and watered
Miles. Down in one. He was clearly very hungry. Maisie, being on the ball and
keen to show how she could care for this creature, pointed out he needed a
blanket.
Miles curled himself into a
cosy ball and fell asleep while we set about trying find whom he belonged to.
Not known locally to any of the farmers and with no tag on him our final resort
was the RSPCA who put us onto the local dog warden. Big brown eyes peered up to
Maisie through the garage window then Miles waited by the door for it to open. He
and Maisie, already bonded in these few hours. With a tummy full of energy,
Miles leapt up for a hug then bounded off round the garden! What if we couldn’t
catch him, the warden was coming!
Food! We enticed him back to
the garage with a small portion of rice!
The warden looped a blue rope
lead onto Miles and walked him to the big white van with its cages. Sad moment.
Miles, a young male collie of about five months old, would be cared for locally
for seven days and if not claimed, will go to the rescue centre and be re
homed.
Since being old enough to
throw pennies into wishing wells Maisie had wished, coin after coin, for a
puppy dog. It may only have been for 6 hours, but it was a very memorable time!
Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Dreams can come
true.
We followed that, with the
Great British Bake Off final. It was far too much excitement for one day. Yesterday
I was SO tired again and had to take an afternoon nap, first one since Friday.
As I write there is black sky
and a huge storm on the hill with sheet lightning and thunder. I’m looking
forward to a quiet end to the week…
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