The past two days started out so well. We spent most of yesterday in the cottage, exploring, scrubbing, painting one of the not-so-bad rooms, and trying to work out what all the keys are for.
Off we went again this morning and carried on. We took a call mid afternoon from Andy’s lovely mum, taking the weekend from a real high to a dreadful low.
We’ve lived with Andy’s mum since moving out of our old place late last year, as we waited for the cottage. Our two cats, two turtles and two dogs of course came with us.
Bit of background… I lived for donkeys years in Australia and moved back to the UK a couple of years ago. It’s been a bit of a rough time for me, not as easy as I’d expected it would be to settle back in. Andy’s been my rock. And so too, were my two cats and two dogs, all of whom came back with me from Australia.
All four were rescues. Cooper the small yellow dog from West Australia; my darling little Chinese Crested dog Daisy from Melbourne; Kitty the Persian cat from Melbourne; and Fifi the ragdoll from Sale in Gippsland.
The house we were living in, wasn’t much fun for them. A three storey modern townhouse with paper thin walls, tiny garden, and not much room. I loathed it, Andy put up with it, and they all made do.
The cats and dogs are our family. We both wanted to create a home they could enjoy as much as we could. It took a long time to find the right place. Then several months to agree a deal. One month after we’d agreed a price, we lost my dear Daisy.
I was heartbroken. She was my shadow for a decade. Daisy was three years old when she came to me. She’d had a tough start to life, growing up with a dreadful backyard breeder, caged alone, used as stock. Coming to me changed her life, and she changed mine. I adored that tiny girl. Losing her was impossibly hard to get over.
Coop Dog was my first dog. Found as a stray in the Perth suburbs at a couple of months old, I adopted him at 16 weeks, when he weighed about the same as a big bag of sugar. He’s a fabulous little man. A gentle and loving personality, little dog bark, and oh so funny. Diagnosed with chronic pancreatitis at seven, a heart murmur a couple of years later, and the onset of liver disease last year; that he’s happy and loving life at 14 years old is nothing short of a miracle.
Desperately sad that Daisy would never get to see the cottage, it’s been even more important we move in as quickly as we can so that Cooper gets to live out the rest of his life in our forever home. Today’s phone call was Andy’s mum, letting us know that he really didn’t seem well. I came home immediately. Within half an hour, Andy and I were at the vets with the wee man, whose breath was fast and shallow.
The poor boy’s on a drip, with intravenous pain relief and antibiotics. We don’t yet know if he’ll make it. All we do know, is that he didn’t seem ready to go yet, and so we shall do everything we can to help him try to stay.
What began as a wonderful weekend, turned quickly to a tremendously tough one. All we can do now is wait, and hope he makes it. We know how much he will love the cottage.
Station Farm Cottage 