A mithering sense of worry

My computer insists that the word ‘mithering’ is not correct and keeps auto-correcting it to ‘withering’.  Which feels quite apt actually, because I have spent this weekend with a mithering worry in mind and it is withering my relaxation and sense of happiness.  

It is just a mither though – nothing too serious and nothing we will not cope with, but still there and bothering me.  The dog is not well.  We know the dog is not well – he has cancer of the adrenal gland which has made him unwell for well over four years now.  But just over four years ago he was given somewhere between weeks and years to live, and he was properly poorly.  He has, in his own poodle way, taught us to approach every day of his life with an enthusiastic wagging tail and to look forward to whatever meal, walk, cuddle is right in front of him.  Not expecting more, just loving whatever he has.  It has been a good lesson in life.

It is a lesson I took to heart a few weeks ago when we decided to have a mad celebration of his tenth birthday.  Having never been sure he would make it to ten, we thought it fitting to celebrate what was there in front of us.  We baked a dog cake, we bought presents.  In fact we seem to have taught the old dog new tricks – unwrapping presents and emptying gift bags – unfortunately he has no way of differentiating between his presents and those intended for others.  Oops.

So, I do feel we have enjoyed every moment as much as we can.  But this afternoon the vet wants to re-run some blood tests as they suspect the poor dog has a second very rare disease.  That would colloquially be known as sod’s law.  

It turns out that although I thought I had made peace with him not lasting forever, the sadness of having to actually face this is definitely pervading my mood.  Time to just accept I am worried and get on with the day being worried and doing other stuff at the same time. I am hoping that naming it helps that process.

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