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She came into my room early, crying -

Comfrey’s really sick, I think she’s dying.

We sat on the bed and held each other - we’d talked about this possibility only a day ago - that the runt may not last and would she want to be part of its demise.

With tears in my eyes, I held the poor, sickly thing - daughter held her too - said a few words of thanks and then the dreaded moment - the realisation that her death was in my hands. My friend from Perth had related to me only yesterday that these moments of saying goodbye to a household pet - of putting down a beloved creature - set us up well for life if we as parents can model it well. Speak plainly about the situation - don’t hide the reality and be willing to let them have their feelings about it.

It is sad, yes. This is a big loss - stay with that experience. It all passes remarkably quickly when you don’t shy away from the hard thing.

We all buried Comfrey next to the avocado trees - a memory of a warm spring afternoon tea picnic when she had better days. This life was short, this pet demanded thrice daily bottle feeding, anxiety at night about her survival - and now she’s gone - back to mother - I’m grieving her too - this passage is never easy, yet its far better done in the open. Together - and the heart mending then seems to take its own course.