Remembering our pets at Christmas

This week I thought I’d do a little pet-reminiscing. I’m sure I feel this way partly because Christmas is on our doorstep and with that comes happiness and sadness for those we miss and that includes our pets. There was one Christmas where we tied red bows to the collars of our goats, Sugar and Cinnamon and I remember a Christmas storm when our then young children stayed with the goats in the shed and sang to them until the storm had passed. Then there were the countless times they escaped into our garden and sampled the plants. At those times my husband was often heard declaring he’d put them on the bbq!

We no longer have our precious goats, but we are not totally without pets – a family of kookburras wait on the balcony each morning, the peacock is out there somewhere wandering about, vocalising but not visible yet this summer and our Clayton’s dog Rhani, who is shared by everyone in the court, has just made her morning visit to our back door.

This morning my daughter showed me an internet story about a dog in China, he waited by the grave of his deceased owner for days – reminiscent of Grayfriar’s Bobby, The Dog on the Tuckerbox and countless other loyal pets.

Animals – we underestimate them, so please remember the ones you are lucky enough to own now and don’t forget  to take care of them this Christmas.

A poem for Sugar and Cinnamon follows:

‘Used to be’ Footsteps

Footsteps
used to be
along the tracks
beside the creek
all about the woodpiles.

Footprints
used to be
in the dirt
on the grass
under the willow tree.

Where they once walked,
played and wandered
part of them
will always be
a wisp of memory . . .

‘used to be’ footsteps.

Corinne Fenton

Sugar

Cinnamon