My last blog had a good tone to it. I said how content I felt with my life. I was happy with what I had in it and in fact felt I had found pure happiness. I had everything under control, I was working a lot but was happy with that. I had a balance and had training on track. What life seems to show (me more than most it feels sometimes) is how quickly things can change.
In fact after a day of putting "the face" on (a skill I have become quite good at over the years) at work yesterday I finished and switched off to drive home. (It really is hard keeping up appearances sometimes). It was then I bumped into a friend as I was leaving who said quite honestly that I looked drained. I told him why and shock hit his face, "Are you cursed?". It has made me question, am not worthy or deserving of any happiness? Every time I seem to find peace with everything, or find a way to cope and be happy I am thrown something else (and I am kind of over being told only the strong are challenged or whatever the quote says).
On Monday I went to work on an early shift. I finished and left work in London at 4pm. As I was driving home I had a call from Nathan saying, "Don't freak out but I can't find Dobby (our pug puppy). I'm going to start looking". Of course I did start freaking out. I called my sister, my niece pleading for their help. I pulled over and posted on our local Facebook site pleading if anyone had seen a pug around the village. People who I knew directly, indirectly and not at all began to help. The post was shared, the local dog wardens were alerted and before long a search party was in motion for my baby boy.
As I was driving home I was totally distracted and just urging to get home quickly in order to join in the search effort. Dobby would come to my voice surely if scared and hiding somewhere. He was also only a pug after all - how far could he get? I called Nathan every 5 minutes in search of an update. I remember saying to him to desperation, "I need that pug".
It didn't make sense though. Dobby wasn't the type of dog to see an open door and just take himself on a walk. Even if we left the front door open he wouldn't make a dash for it. Even if he wanted to have an explore he would soon be back as knew where his bread was buttered. My thoughts obviously went to passing cars had he ventured to exploring on the road.
As I drove through our village to home I began thinking where he could be if he had decided to explore. He loved lying in our pond when hot and on walks would have a little wander down to the lake to get a drink and wade in on the lead when too hot to get some respite. Maybe he had done that and got swept away? So my idea was to follow the river on my walk to see if that was a good hunch.
I parked up and ran out of the car. The boys screamed "Mummy's home" totally unaware of the anguish ensuing around them. I forced a small, fake smile. I began to take my heels off to get my trainers on when I saw Nathan striding towards me, dead pan, "We've found him". I wanted to say great, but I knew from his face it wasn't good. I was asking where, lets go! "Hollie, STOP! He was in the pool".
At that point the blood chilling scream I had used once before in my life when Larry (my other pug) died suddenly at my feet, just a year previous, bellowed out of my mouth. The boys stared, worried what had happened to Mummy. I rocked on the stairs not knowing what to do. Phoebe, my 12 year old niece, came in and said, "His ear. His ear moved". There may be a chance. I ran out.
The pool is an overground pool in my parents garden which is next door to us and accessible from our garden through a gate. The scene I saw was my precious pug, nearly rigid being resuscitated. My sister was there screaming and my Dad was stood there too. My mum came back from golf at one point and I heard her scream too. However, my eyes were on Dobby. I was on the floor praying, pleading for him to come back. I think I knew deep down the second I saw him however that he was gone and there really was no hope.
Eventually the mouth to mouth ceased and my screams of pain were probably filling all the gardens around us. I was in shock, disbelief and in so much pain. Numbness engulfed me and I needed 2 people to drag me into my parents house. People came in to see me but I just saw through them. I couldn't speak, not even to Nathan. How did this happen?
Finally, I just walked away. I said nothing and just went to bed. It was around 6pm. I drifted in and out of sleep. In and out of the nightmare that was being awake.
That is also when the haunting images began, mainly of him helpless in the pool. Desperate for help. My gorgeous pug that had given me so much adoration and happiness, slowly losing his grip.
Then the anger. How long had he been there? How long does it take for a dog to drown? Why hadn't I thought of it? Especially as I knew he loved water and wouldn't go too far from home. Why hadn't anybody thought of that? Why wasn't it checked? Why wasn't he seen? Where was everyone to not see him? Why Dobby? Why me?
Then the embarrassment. The shame. Everybody who knows me obviously knows how much I adored Dobby and I would never do him any harm, EVER, he was my boy. To drown in the garden next door, my parents garden in fact. That was unfathomable. Would we be judged as dog owners even if this, as I have been reminded again and again, was a tragic, horrible accident? He was only 11 months old.
I didn't talk to Nathan for another day. I didn't eat. I had so many questions, yet I also had no words. I couldn't stop crying. Nathan took the blame, the responsibility as well as all the hurt he was going through and then mine too. Yet I couldn't talk to him. There were however things we had to talk about. Where would we lay him to rest? My parents spoke about getting rid of the pool, asked me if that's what I wanted. A pool that has given us, moreover the boys and the children in the family, so much joy. Of course I could not deny anyone of that pleasure but it would take a while until I could sit merrily around it again. Four days since it happened I can't look at it and avert my eyes from seeing it out of my bedroom window when opening or closing the curtains.
On the Tuesday, the day after, I did go to work. Mainly because I hate letting people down and being an early shift I had left it too late not to (I didn't text anybody at work until 10pm). I did however make a plan to leave early to 'deal' with everything I had to at home; like burying Dobby. I warned everyone I was going to see at work I wouldn't be able to say much and as I expected I buried my head in between cries until I left. I couldn't respond to anything.
When I walked in from work I cried into Nathan and he said we had to find a place. My sister had kindly taken the boys. I said how much he loved lying in the pond, as I mentioned before he would lie in it when hot after a walk, so I wanted it near there. Ironically he loved the water, that was the horrible reality. Nathan nodded and then began digging a 4 foot hole while I went back to the bedroom, shut the curtains and put my ear plugs in to not hear the pounding of my baby's grave being dug. It did remind me however of the scene from Harry Potter where Harry decides to dig a grave for Dobby the House Elf himself without magic. When I had thought about it briefly alone earlier in the day I was adamant I wanted to get him cremated and have him in a box alongside Larry in the house. However given his name and the tie to Harry Potter burying him in his home and in the garden he loved so much felt like the right thing to do.
I was actually quite impressed with the efforts Nathan put in to digging that grave. It was no easy feat and took a good 2 hours of hard graft on his own. The emotions he must've felt digging his own puppy's grave too. The first smirk we raised together in what felt like days was when he showed me it, I saw just how deep it was and said, "Well you've always been good at digging holes". (Anyone who knows Nathan will understand what I mean by that - he has a way of not thinking before he talks sometimes!).
When the boys went to bed I had a final cuddle with Dobby and again I had to be held to get him to where we were to lay him. My mum had asked if she could put their old much loved dogs in the grave with him. Some friends, siblings to play with. Mum had carefully suggested earlier in the day I put Larry with them and I denied, adamant I wanted Larry in the house with us still. I wasn't ready for that too. However, at last minute it felt right that Larry be with them all. I got Dobby's bed to place him in (I had picked him up in it so only right he go to sleep for the final time in it), and then placed his favourite donut toy and my slippers he used to chew when a little puppy alongside his little body. Then I walked back inside while Nathan and my Dad filled the hole up. I will in time find the perfect headstone/plaque to put there for them. All of them now on rainbow bridge playing until we meet again.
I don't need to explain my love to Dobby to anyone. The adoration and what that dog did for me emotionally doesn't need words really. He was my best mate. He would pine in happiness (as many dogs do to greet their owners) when I walked through the door (although Nathan admits he never did it as much for him as he did me - he was my boy). He slept on my pillow with me at night, he followed me to the toilet, he watched me when I trained in the gym. When I returned from a night shift he would hear me pull in, woke up and waited at the end of the bed until I came up. Then he would continue to sleep with me when the normal wake up routine resumed for Nathan and the boys. He made me laugh, smile and was a perfect dog around the kids. I was never lonely and with huge boots to fill in Larry he did it effortlessly. Pugs to me have the most wonderful characters and are the most well-natured, loving, loyal dogs you could wish for and Dobby showed this perfectly. I just wanted so much more time with him.
I have thoughts of how it happened, (well they’ve played in my head over and over). The gate was left open accidentally and he went to explore next door. Not totally out of the ordinary as he probably considered it a second garden. Why he decided to climb up onto the pool we'll never know. How is also another wonder as it’s high and only small steps to climb. He never had any interest in the pool before. I believe when he did climb up he went to walk on the cover, slipped and got covered by it himself so when Nathan, my Dad and the builders (who were on the roof at my parent's house) could not see him struggling. Yes it was an accident but the guilt is felt by all. Moreover, we have always been cautious of the pool, my parents more than most. Normally the gate between our houses is bolted, the stairs are removed, there is a harder cover on, it was a momentary lapse where normal practices were eased, but this could have been a child. It could have been one of our boys. It does not take long. It has made us all acutely aware and scared as well as deeply upset as to what has actually happened. A sobering thought amongst all the other pain.
The memories of Dobby's death and the images that float into my head about his final moments will haunt me for the rest of my days. The amazing memories I have with him will also stay too however. It is just a will of the mind to try and see the good over the bad (however, this is the mind we are talking about and we all know how hard that can be to actually have control of sometimes). I adored and still do adore that dog. He was perfect. I don't expect everyone to understand the horrific grief I am going through. I understand non-dog lovers/owners will never truly 'get it' and that's fine too; just understand I am hurt. Yes, I have been through worse in Rose dying, but this is going to take some time. My mind is fighting at the moment. I miss him, a lot. He was part of the family and that loss is felt everytime I walk through the door, go to bed without him, go for a walk (which I am not ready for yet), have the boys ask me, "Where's Dobby" (which makes my heart sink) or even think about him and in turn the circumstances. I've had part of the family taken away tragically, suddenly and that is the only way to explain it.
The love I have felt from those who have sent me wishes, flowers and cards, means more than I can say, so thank you. Please understand from this blog why I haven't responded to questions of how personally. Thank you also to the kindness of strangers; including the family in the village who sent me flowers, also explaining how their little girls cried when they found out as they loved seeing Dobby in our garden when they walked past on their way the park. Thank you also to my lovely pug mum friend Katie who was the only person I felt I could tell at the beginning, who has kept checking in on me and who also a sent me the kindest gift and words. Thank you to my family for just being you, especially my sister, another pug mum who can relate to the loss. Thank you also to all those locally who poured out to search for Dobby and for the lady who tried futilely to resuscitate him. The outcome is as someone put "any dog owners worst nightmare" when the news had to be shared on the post asking for help but thank you for everything everyone did. It is not forgotten.
I haven't posted on social media directly what has happened and neither will I. The love has gone for that platform for now. However I am sharing it here for those who are interested in me and maybe want to know what happened without me having to heave my heart to tell it again and again, exposing the grief and more namely the guilt I feel.
I am sorry we let you down Dobby. You were and are so so loved and missed.
RIP Dobby: 15.07.2019 - 08.06.2020
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