Hello Gizmo! , I always love you.

Day four of no Gizmo. It’s the nights that are the worst when things aren’t good. The house is quiet. I’m very aware there’s an absence. I didn’t realise before how noisy, destructive and troublesome Gizmo was. Hell would have broken loose about four times by now, just this evening. The void is certainly empty. There are landmarks yet to come to continue to mark his passing. The last blankets he laid on will need washing at

Hello Gizmo! , I still love you.

Hello Gizmo! , I still love you.

It is day 2 of not having Gizmo on the Earthly plane. These are harsh days. I have another moment of wisdom to impart. I was speaking with a nurse today, who has to have these exact conversations regularly. I told her briefly about what had happened and she came back to me with a perspective that actually got through to me a little. She said, death is a part of life. It is inevitable. So the

Hello Gizmo! , I love you.

Hello Gizmo! , I love you.

I apologise now, and warn you that this is a grief stricken post. Yesterday at 14.14, my Gizmo died in my arms. He died of cardiac myopathy, which came on very sudden and took him in what felt like an instant. He was 3 years old. I have been repeatedly assured by friends, family and the vet that there was nothing I could do, nothing I could have done, and that he was clearly very deeply loved