I opened the back of my car and noticed a lot of leaves and as soon as I saw them, I realised how they had got there and noted they had been there for two days and I brushed them out. I had returned from a walk on my own this morning and was loading the back of the car with mosaic tiles I needed to take to Ramsgate for community workshops. Those leaves in the rear of my car is a scene that I can easily recall now. There is another scene in my mind’s eye and it is the scene which goes immediately before the leaves scene. It is of me carrying Fred to, and laying him down in the back of my car. The explanation for the leaves is that they were under Fred’s body when I picked him up and now that he has gone the leaves remained in the car.
Fred was a bright star, living a high-octane life with high risks at a high pace. These lives are short but have a huge impact on those they come into contact with. Because they shine so bright, they are shorter than most and a parallel life might be James Dean who died young at 24 in 1955. Fred was hit by a car and would be the equivalent of about 27 years old. St. Patrick’s Day would have been fitting as he was an Irish Terrier, but fate had him down for St. Andrews day instead! To me it was the day that West Blean and Thornden woods were not big enough for Fred’s desire for exploration. It was always a struggle to contain Fred’s appetite for mischief and adventure, yet still allow him liberty and self-management to be happy, fulfilled and content. I am released from that struggle now, but realise walking amongst the trees and natural surroundings will be a self-prescribed well-being potion, as opposed to the mandatory dose supplied by Fred’s binding forcefulness to explore our wild and natural environment together.
