It is Sunday morning and I seem to have already come to accept that Scamp is no longer with me.
When Abbie died I was simply grief stricken and, although there was comfort in the fact that I still had Scamp, it took me a long time to get over the loss of a lovely dog that I had only had for a few years.
Scamp was with me from 2000, when I first moved to Ibiza. I had dreaded not surviving to ensure that my beloved dogs would not be left alone but it has been a bit of a shock to realise that I have shed not a single tear over Scamp’s death.
Her corpse (for it was not her) was taken away by the Empresa de Recogido less than two hours after I had started to make enquiries about what to do with it. She was treated with respect and her micro-chip was cancelled for me.
Now I find myself in a strange place that I have not been in before. A long and valued friendship has ended and yet, as I look around me after some ‘clearing up’, it is difficult to see where a big hairy dog has been in my apartment. There is an area by the front door where Scamp would brush against the wall on her way out and it is much easier to walk around since I do not have to be aware of a sleeping dog on the floor but in reality, it is almost as though Scamp was never here.
At this time yesterday I was very worried by her lack of animation and 24 hours later her physical presence is no more.
Maybe the presence of Chap and his much more active involvement in my daily routine has insulated me against the worst of ny grief – it is almost as though I am more concerned about my lack of an emotoional response than I am the death of my old friend.
Human emotions are odd.