Once is unlucky, twice is carelessness.

The day after our dog is hit by a car, things go on as normal. Life doesn’t stop for a small creature who flickered out like a candle.

I supermarket and prepare for the new puppy coming home, her adoption finalised before the loss of her playmate-to-be. I fill my partner in on what I bought and he looks at me –

‘You get over dogs fast.’

Tears fill my eyes and suddenly I am angry, because no. I don’t get over things. I just don’t cry, or wail, or gnash my teeth.

I want to scream and yell

My grandmother died 13 months ago and I’ve cried twice. Twice for a great yawning hole that opened in my heart. There was no time to fall apart then, there is no time now. What makes you think I don’t feel it, just because I’m not screaming?

Instead. I say

‘I don’t get over it. I just get on with it.’

***

Losing one dog is unlucky, surely twice is carelessness. We are berated for the things we didn’t do correctly, or should have done instead. Everyone has 20/20 hindsight.

***

Unpacking the groceries and the thud of another grave being dug vibrates through my footsteps.

Milk

thud

Cheese

thud

Collar

thud

Make my son a bottle and put him to bed. Make my daughter something to eat. Wipe the counters.

thud.

Until we all stand around a grave and solemnly put the dirt back from whence it came.

Again.