The sting of puppy love.

By ‘puppy love’ I don’t mean the giddy ‘You’re my whooooooooooole world now’ bollucks that I see whip out of the mouths of baby-teens all too suddenly when they realise they’re crushing – bad. I’m talking about the ups and downs of having a pup (or a pet), and let me tell you, I think it’s very straightforward – and barely balanced at all.

I could have killed Chelsea for ruining two pairs of great pants back when I was 14 and she was a pup, I mean literally rung her neck. She annoyed me whenever I touched the cheese and she would hear the plastic from seriously any room in the house and bolt to me faster than a speeding bullet and pester me until I shared. And also for being so amazing that I can’t quite seem to get over the fact that I won’t be seeing her anymore – ever.

That there is the stickler.

Humans don’t often deal with grief well, or at all. So tell me, when it’s just a fact of life that we’ll all suffer loss at one time or another – several times in fact – is it worth deliberately adding to that by finding something else to love and lose?

Were all the fun times and the kisses and the cuddles and the lit-up faces (from both her and me) worth the sting of how unbearably hard it is to now have lost her? It’s kind of difficult to peer through the waterworks and see the bigger picture right now, but I know deep down that there is no doubt in my mind that I will also be providing my own children with the love and companionship that a dog like Chelsea provided.

As much as it kills me to have to say goodbye to her after an unbearably short 11 years – I know i wouldn’t go through the emptiness of never having her to escape feeling like this right now.

RIP Telfy. x






Have you ever lost an animal?

Do you think the joy is worth the ultimate loss?

Wasn’t she just the coootest?