I haven’t written since July. To tell you the truth life has gone on much as before with the usual daily rhythm. We think we have finally cracked how to make the puppy sleep through the night by taking him out for a walk and a sniff just before bed, though he still wakes up at 6.30. This wouldn’t have been a problem when we had Oscar because we were all up then and starting our day, but I, never a morning person, have now accustomed myself to a more leisurely slide into the day. Essentially the issue is that Fergs is a velcro dog, many flatties are, and can’t bear to be alone or away from his humans. I’m now wondering whether to have him upstairs to sleep in my bedroom though it would have to be in his vast crate, because I absolutely draw a line at a 40kg monster sleeping on my bed for the rest of his life. Nope.

I’ve been busy trying to train the puppy to have good manners. As this doesn’t appear to be a priority for many people, until of course they have a muddy 40kg retriever bounding up to them and wanting to play, it can be quite frustrating, but Fergus is quite good on his lead and it seems that as as long as he’s with his humans, doing free dog things isn’t much of a priority yet. His presence has given Mr Raffles a spring in his step, though I am steeling myself to face some difficult decisions about his future care. Poor Raffles has had tumours removed from his mouth and foot, both of which appear to have been malignant. And it looks like the one in his mouth has returned and brought a friend along. Raffles is well in himself: his appetite is still good and he enjoys his walks, though he has slowed down markedly and sleeps quite a lot of the time. He doesn’t seem to be in pain at the moment but our worry is that the tumour will soon be so large that one day he wil bite into it while eating his dinner and precipitate a “catastrophic bleed,” and I want to avoid that. It’s very hard to contemplate, to be honest.

I’ve been working on a couple of other projects recently about which I’m quietly excited but I don’t want to reveal much about them at the moment and jinx the situation. Honestly, that’s such silly superstition but disappointment and rejection are powerful, and the temptation to avoid them is overwhelming. I have to remember that “You’re either winning or you’re learning,” and that there isn’t any shame in not getting things right every time but I will keep engaging in very high stakes activities and the prospect of a painful tumble often makes me wonder why on earth I started. We’ll see.

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This post formed in my head largely because I wanted to write about a memorial service the other week for a late choir member. We went along to the service initially to sing a Rutter Blessing. I didn’t know him very well but I know his wife slightly better and it occurs to me that any support for people who are bereaved and suffering helps them and that’s the main thing.

Their son gave the best eulogy I’ve ever heard, the packed congregation and the celebration of his life laughing at the jokes and the touching and funny reminiscences. And then, some way into the speech, the tone of the speech suddenly darkened, with an appeal to all of us to call our friends who’ve been a bit quiet recently, and that we should talk to people about our feelings. And you could feel the sombre cloud descend as the realisation gradually filtered through to each individual congregation member that their much-beloved jovial friend had taken his own life. I don’t know whether this had been planned, but it occured to me that this service reflected often how it happens in life: that all may seem well with someone on the surface and nobody would ever suspect how much they were hurting and suffering and wishing that the pain would stop. Confused friends often wonder why someone took their own lives: they had so much to live for; they were loved by everyone; no-one would have realised; how selfish to take one’s own life!  The truth is that that we are all just bumbling along in the best way we can but sometimes for some people the silent pain is just too much to bear and they no longer want to be a burden to their loved ones. So they think it would be better for all if they just weren’t here anymore.

How sombre and silent was the congregation that trouped out to watch the enterrment of their friend’s ashes. My tears would have drawn attention to me so I had to go and sit in the car. The service was over a week ago and I’m still shaken by it.

Please. Check on your friends. Send them a text if it’s been a while since you last spoke. And please, please talk to someone. Samaritans are there 24/7 to listen and support without judgment. Freecall 116 123.