Loss possibly always makes you feel like you didn’t get enough. I certainly feel like I didn’t get enough. I’ve been hurting, grieiving from all the loss around me since the earthquake in Nepal. I took an indefinite break from work and came home after a long time to spend ‘unlimited’ time with my family. Layla was a big part of this unit I call family.

I wanted to spend these few weeks in her accepting company, bask in her unconditional love, renew my faith in the good things in the world with every heave of her chest. But she had other plans for me. I always felt I couldn’t be there for her when she was suffering, fighting with all her will to regain equilibrium whenever her body threatened to fail her fighting spirit. Her spirit always won, she was one helluva fighter that dog!

This time I was around to care for her through what must have been extremely painful for her. She lay there in all her grace fighting quietly waiting for her family to gather around her, getting us to consider the idea that these might be her last days. She left too soon, may be not too soon for her, but too soon for me. I wanted more, I wanted to spend the next few weeks in her company, lie by her side read, write, sigh, cry, grieve for all the madness in the world today. I guess she wanted to teach me that I had to learn to do it by myself. As she asked to leave us in her own way, she also taught me a big lesson in love – letting go.


Layla my Love,

I miss you. Mornings are the hardest. I wake up to the reality of your absence, to gloom, to this world that definitely definitely feels worse without you.

I miss that look on your face when we sleepily walk down the stairs, the customary tail wag when we bend over to hold you close and then the shaking off to tell us it was too much proximity. The small sounds you made demanding  a share of our breakfast. I miss your quiet presence in the house always, always there for me to put my head on and pace my breath with yours. For many years now home has meant you, your soulful eyes, your warm smell, your constant, unconditional love. That is going to be hard as hell to live without. But I want to believe you are in a better place, across the rainbow bridge looking down on me. I  will hold on to that image to get through this overwhelming sadness I feel everytime I realise I won’t ever see you again in the mortal world.

Goodbye my Lovely.