The rhythms of ones' life can be subtle. And once disrupted by something like the death of a family pet it is like a microscope gets placed on them and the rhythms start pelting out.
Cooking is something I've found solace in since I was a mere child baking homemade cookies. Alone. One of my most memorable gifts was my easy bake oven. I shunned dolls but loved the miniature oven and once I was old enough to tackle the real stove I delighted in the whole process of cooking - and then eating the fruits of my labour and sharing them.
Daughter has not been taught cooking by myself. I like to cook alone. Or so I thought. But the past few days have found me wailing with grief in my kitchen. My constant companion is gone. Every morsel brought out of my fridge was inspected by Shamrock from a respectable but often awkward distance on the floor. The floor training was gotten to quickly...she was a large dog and had to be taught to give people distance around food. But if you ever fed her from the table she never forget who was slack about this and who was not. Shamrock had the habit of lying directly in front of the fridge which made it extremely awkward while cooking but she made sure you didn't forget that she was there for any offerings of scraps while preparing a meal.
In her younger days she would prance with delight when a broccoli came out of the fridge. In the last few months her eyes would perk up from the floor and I would place the stems directly in front of her to save her from having to pull herself up. I ascribe those broccoli stems and the plentiful raw carrot treats to the great condition her teeth were in after 13 years. Any opening of the fridge signaled to her that something good might come her way and it was more often than not in the last few years that I'd give her more than the usual offering of meat scraps and raw bones/cartilage on top of the many vegetable and fruit trimmings.
I keep two large glass containers of water in my fridge and a full ice cube tray. She always preferred ice cold water and each morning I would top it up fresh cold and refill the containers in order to replenish throughout the day. That was part of her fridge duty as well...eyeballing her water tray as if to remind me not to forget water duty. I just poured myself a glass of cold water and started wailing. I don't need 3 Litres of cold water in my fridge for two people.
Raw grief. I was warned.
|Daughter and Shamrock in Newfoundland on the |
Skerwink Trail overlooking Trinity, 2008