The things I can’t explain

Every day is Mother’s Day.  No special date is going to negate the fact that dishes need to be washed, meals need to be cooked and people and dogs  need to be nagged.

I feel very lucky that this Mother’s Day I was forced to get out of bed to make scones – it’s part of being a mother that I adore – feeding my family with high carbohydrate meals that my son will ignore, my dog will scoff and my husband and I will complain about because we’ve eaten too much. And I feel lucky that on Mother’s Day I get to cook for my own mother and my mother-in-law. Interestingly there is not a tad of irony in that sentence. I really do feel lucky that I have my mother and mother-in-law as part of my life. And I feel even luckier that I am a mother to the most beautiful child in the world and the most magnificent dog.

But today I am not focusing on my mother, or my mother-in-law, or even the child I brought into this world 12 years ago, today I am writing as the mother of a dog. My dog , Henry, who is sick and refusing to eat, my dog who has been sick since Wednesday and two visits to the vet, countless drugs and he’s not getting any better. I am beside myself with worry.

I cried at the vet when they told me he needed to have an anaesthetic tomorrow so they can take a look inside and see what is causing him to be so sick.  I cried with worry for him and with the great intensity of love that I feel for him. I also nearly cried because the vet is about the same age as my son….

The weekend that we bought Henry home I was going to look for a new shirt – I had a job interview scheduled for the next week and I wanted to wear something new. – possibly because I had been at home with my son for 5 years j eans and a t-shirt weren’t going to cut it for an interview.  We came home with a beautiful pink shirt which was too small for me and the smallest, cutest, most beautiful puppy in the whole world. Not even sure how that happened but I know that my husband falls in love hard and he’s very impulsive.

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Now Henry is seven and he is the most beautiful member of our family. Literally.  He is the salve our family needs when we are irritable, the stress relief we cling to when things aren’t easy, he’s the faithful companion when we need someone there, he’s the best play mate when we’re feeling energetic, he’s the most loyal and loving being I know.

I know I sound positively nutty to be talking about him like this on Mother’s Day but I am his mother and I’m finding it so hard. I am the kind of mother that explains things – that tells stories, that prepares and dissects, I am an explainer and a comforter.  And I can’t explain to him that tomorrow I am leaving him alone at the vet for his own good.  In a cage!

It’s moments like this that I actually appreciate the constant questioning from the child that speaks…