THE MAGIC OF FATE ✨ Part 3

You know sometimes something hits you like a tonne of bricks?

It's usually the part where you have to start looking for the lesson, and we've had a lot of this, these last 4 weeks.

In the last 2 posts I've given you the back story. This post, comes with an incredibly sad ending, but it's also where the magic happens.

So I'd spent a few weeks getting to grips with Barney's new diagnosis and what that means. I had gathered some acceptance around my old dog was in fact getting old and experiencing what that means with his poorly heart, and lifelong medication. Whilst we won't get a proper prognosis for another 6 months (when we have the next scan to measure how much has progressed), I have had to come to terms with the fact that my senior dogs are closer than ever to death. And the death of them, in part means a part of me dies too. My therapist has pushed me to a place where acceptance HAS to be, well, accepted. Without it I will be troubled with anticipatory grief, and grieving a loss that hasn't even happened yet. I was still getting upset about it, and probably always will, but I had to face it head on, and live in the happiness of the present instead of the fear of the future.

For the last few weeks, Jen and I have been trying to get together, but thanks to our great British 'summer' we've had to postpone twice, and then last weekend an opportunity arose, so we got together. The 2 of us, and the 3 sibling doggos walked peacefully. We talked about Barney and Dexter's illnesses. Dexter's scan was approaching and we'd decided between us that it was very likely that he had heart failure as was displaying similar symptoms to Barney. Jen shared my fear of a cancer diagnosis. We talked about death and what that means to us, and we talked about suffering and how to approach it. After splashing around in the fountains (Dexter's fave!) it was time to go home. We said our goodbyes and see you soon's and I said I'd catch up with Jen on the day of the scan.

Fun fact, at the start of this year, Jen and I went to a 'death cafe' at a Buddhist Centre, which is centred around discussing death in a positive, practical way. We both have a fair bit of trauma surrounding death and it was a good thing to do together.

Scan day approached, I was thinking of them all day. And then the text came.

"It's the worst possible news".

The clock stopped. Everything went silent. And my heart broke for my dear friend and her poorly boy. The only thing I knew I had to do in that moment was be there for her. She got the news that both of us had feared.

Now this part isn't my story to tell and I've deliberately kept the details of the text that I received to a minimum in this post as well as the following conversations.

My story, is the next bit.

When I knew what time he would be closing his eyes for the final time, I decided the best way I could honour this moment for him, would be to take his brother and sister back to that place I stumbled upon with the 2 old ladies. Something told me it had to be there. I wasn't even sure I knew how to get back there. But I wanted to be there at the time his soul would leave his body, and I wanted me, Barney and Wilma to sit quietly, looking over the City and up at the sky. I was actually having a little minor surgery that day too and these things always make me a bit light headed but there was no way we weren't going. I jumped straight off the surgical bed, into my car, picked up the pups and headed in the direction of the park I'd just recently discovered.

And we sat there, at the top of the hill, and just watched the clouds pass for half an hour. We then went for a short stroll around the park and then I wanted to sit a little longer, listen to some music and just think about my friend and the pain she must have been feeling. I wanted to try and energetically send them both my love and strength.

And then it happened.

A man, maybe in his 50s approached me and was (as always) cooing over the dogs, asking the usual questions about breed and age and being wowed by how old they are vs how old they look. He was with his wife and she strolled off to walk their own dog. We were chatting away about how well behaved my dogs were, and he asked my name and then out of the blue he said to me "Carly, do you believe that animals go to heaven?", I nearly buckled there and then. He proceeded to tell me about his religious beliefs and how animals wait for you at heaven's gate. He quoted a few stories from the bible. I told him I wasn't sure I was religious but I definitely believed that everything happened for a reason, and I like to believe that we see them again.

He talked at length about pain and suffering, and grief and death. He told me his. He has in fact written a book about his life struggles and boy are they harrowing. The book, 'Out of the ashes: the restoration of a burned boy' is now sat in my Amazon basket because this chance meeting was so profound. He had a life full of suffering; from being burned in a house fire, viciously attacked with a knife, cancer of the oesophagus and addiction. At 30, he told me, he knew he was either going to die, or something was going to turn his life around. And he did. He talked to me in length about how in life there is a tonne of suffering, but if you can find joy, and peace then it can be a truly wonderful place. If you can see the beauty in loving a living being that dies, then you have truly experienced deep, unconditional love. He quoted Queen Elizabeth, 'Grief, is the price we pay for love'.

I then told him why I was there, sat on that very bench. 'My friend is having her dog put to sleep right about now, it's Barney's brother' I said. 'I felt the need to come here, a place I'd only discovered just 2 weeks ago'.

And then he said it.

We were meant to meet today.