Friday, May 02, 2008

Quiet

I am somewhat of a recluse. Ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you that I like to be alone with my thoughts. Sometimes even in the midst of a crowd. One of the main reasons I live in the middle of nowhere, Wales* is so that I don't have to do awkward things like mixing socially with people. I like the quiet.

But sometimes you can get too much of a good thing. Perhaps one of the worst things about last Tuesday was that, for several hours until the Horse Doctor got home from work, there was no-one I could talk to about Buddug's sad demise. No one to give me a hug. I tried phoning her, my parents, my brother, several other people, but they were all out or not answering. In the end me and the dachshund went for a walk, but that didn't really help. They say bottling up your emotions is unhealthy, but what's even worse is when you can't let them out because there's no-one there to see.

I'm coming to terms with a new quietness, too. Buddug** was a noisy cat, prone to yelling as she wandered around the house, or purring so loudly that you could hear her across the room with the stereo on. She would leap into my lap when I was least expecting it, or casually sink her claws into the back of my hand because she thought I wasn't paying her enough attention. In the new house, she was locked down in the basement at night, with access out the cat-flap to the garden so she could roam. Every morning, as soon as the alarm clicked on two storeys above, she'd start complaining to be let into the rest of the house. The routine hadn't been established long - we only moved in at the end of February - but I miss it already, and even the dachshund feeding song is a poor substitute.

* is that a tautology?
** it's pronounced 'bithig' if you've forgotten. It's Welsh for Victoria, or Boadicea depending on which dictionary you believe.

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5 Comments:

Blogger Jo said...

Apparently it only takes two weeks to make a habit, so I'm not surprised you miss her trying to get into the house in a morning.

When we lost our cat a couple of christmases ago, it was our other cat who suffered the most, as he had only every known company when we were out and got very miserable very quickly. Fortunately I managed to source a kitten of a similar breed to the lost cat quickly, which helped. Not the best solution for everyone, but it helped me (and the cat).

Take care, and next time your alone, give the Dachsund a cuddle. You never know he may miss her too.

May 02, 2008 5:02 pm  
Blogger highlandwriter said...

Awww. Hugs to you and the horse doctor. I know Buddig was your family. I know only too well b/c I had a himalyan cat who graced my presence for 11 years. And I still miss him even tho he went on, 8 or 9 yrs ago. Each animal that share time with we humanfolk is so special.

Take good care,
HW

I'm convinced my himilayan watches me from the other world. To this day, even tho I have other animals with me now, I sometimes dream of him. :-)

May 02, 2008 10:51 pm  
Blogger angie said...

I know exactly what you mean. One of my dogs died a few weeks ago and I sometimes find myself wishing I worked outside the home. At least there would be some distractions from the gaping hole in my family - and from the other dog's grieving. On the other hand, I don't think I'd have much patience for dealing with other people. I think it just sucks, either way.

May 03, 2008 5:10 am  
Anonymous norby said...

Aw James, that doesn't make an awful time easier.

Thanks for pronunciation note though, I never would have known that-glad I know how to say Buddug's name properly now.

Thinking of you...

May 03, 2008 3:46 pm  
Blogger JamesO said...

My thanks to you all - and in the previous post. It's nice to know that even when I'm alone here, there's a world of sympathy just a few clicks away.

It's still too quiet though.

May 04, 2008 2:51 pm  

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