so insensitive. 'You'll not know what to do when she's gone,'
they say. No, I shall not know what to do, but I hate people
reminding me of it. I don't have to say that I wish she could
live for ever.
I just pray that when Emma has to go, then it is quickly, and
probably in her sleep, and I think about that every night when
I get into bed because I lie there listening to her breathing and
it reassures me, and then I can go to sleep peacefully. But when
I wake up in the morning I listen again. She used to be out of
her bed with a brisk shake as soon as we got up, but she often
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stays there now, sometimes till past breakfast-time. But I
always go to her bed and touch her, just to make sure that she
is all right.
There is something else I am going to have to face soon, and
that is the decision not to take Emma with me when we go out
giving talks. I loathe the idea. I feel able to tell people so much
about her when she is actually there for them to see. Not only
that, she, rather than the talk, is always the main attraction.
Only recently, visiting a local ladies' group, I looked down
and saw Emma curled up by my feet. It was her usual place.
But I could see she was tired and bored with the whole business,
and wished she was at home on the settee. I resolved there and
then that that was the last time I would ever take her. But a few
evenings later, having made this decision, I was preparing to
go out for a talk, putting on my coat and picking up my handbag
from the hall-stand-but not her lead-and there was
Emma sitting by the front door. She was looking at me with an
expression that said, 'Well, all right you're going again. It's all
very wearing for me, and I don't like the idea much. But you
just can't leave me behind.'
And her lovely brown eyes pleaded successfully against the
better judgement of both of us.
These days, more and more, I am thankful that she has the
other two for companions. All my doubts, first about Buttons,
then about Bracken, are long ago dispelled. Bracken in particular.
He looks after Emma, not only when we are out walking
but he guards her at other times too, especially when all three
are having their dinner.
Buttons and Emma (still) could beat any dog into eating a
bowl of food. If I did not make them sit and wait for the food to
be put on the kitchen floor, I would be knocked flying in the
rush. Bracken, by contrast, thinks about his food. He looks at it,
may decide to eat or he may decide to wait. But he always
protects Emma's dinner-and not because he covets it for
himself. Emma will still be eating, while Buttons has usually
finished first. In between them is Bracken. If Buttons dares
to take as much as a pace in the direction of Emma's bowl,
Bracken will go for her-and quite fiercely. So, greedy Buttons
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has to watch as Emma finishes every last mouthful under the
protection of her young admirer.
Don and I sometimes look at all three of them eating their
meals. Kerensa will be in the kitchen too, giving a helpingbut
more often hindering-hand, as, for example, when she
decides an entire packet of cornflakes all over the floor will be
a good supplement to the dogs' diet. At the same time, Ming
has probably come out of her room and is on the watch for
scraps. It is a time when I think how much has happened since
that day that little Emma bounded into my life and helped to
change it.
We think about the future. Our great dream remains to buy
our kennels and cattery, and now it seems that it is more than
mere hope, although still in the future. But before that, there is
something else to look forward to.
We bought Bracken originally so that he and Buttons would
produce chocolate-coloured puppies that would ensure Emma,
so to speak, lived on. Buttons came into season in August of last
year, and they were mated. Shortly afterwards we took her to
the vet, and he confirmed what we suspected. She was pregnant.
'Yes,' he said, 'when do you expect the litter?'
'About the middle of October,' Don said.
I felt as proud as if I were going to be a mum all over again.
And the timing was part of my excitement. Right in the middle
of October, on the I6th, would be Emma's birthday. I hoped
that Fate and Nature would join forces and help to produce
Buttons' puppies on that very day!
Then Emma could be doubly proud of the new arrivals.
There would be a family of puppies like her. Yet, of course, not
exactly like her. For there can really never be another Emma.