November was a difficult month for me. This recent piece in the Sun explains a little of my hardship:
The passing of the second dog took all of us by surprise. Even though she was not eating, her health seemed to be getting a bit better day by day. I spent hours holding her close as she shivered, convinced that she would get better, further compounded with the vet’s assurances to be patient. Perhaps, we should have guessed when she had spent the mornings sleeping on the grave of the other dog a few days before her death.
As I dug her grave the following day, I realised that I had not been ready. “Why didn’t you wait for me to say goodbye?” I had whispered, as I placed her in her grave.