Posted on December 24, 2020
As per tradition, here I am posting a list of things I’m grateful for on Christmas Eve. This year has obviously been very different to previous years and I think it’s fair to say that we’ve all had days where we’ve felt scared and angry and probably every negative emotion under the sun, making it difficult to feel grateful, but then it’s also reminded us of how many things we do have to be grateful for. There are many more things that could go on this list, but I’ll try to keep it as concise as I can. Otherwise, we’ll probably be here until next Christmas.
Family – I could not be more grateful for my family. I love them so much. So, so much. They do so much for me and all I want to do is make them proud. But this year, I’m especially grateful for their health and grateful to them for their care and caution during this time, for how sensible everybody has been despite how much we all want to be together. It’s been so hard not seeing so many of my extended (and even close) family members face to face for such a long time and I’m truly and deeply looking forward to seeing them all (and hugging the crap out of them) when it’s safe enough to do so.
Mum – Oh my god, my Mum. I love her so much. She is just incredible. This hellscape of a year has been so hard for me (as it has been for so many but in my case, it hammers right on my biggest autistic difficulties: uncertainty and anxiety) but she’d been completely solid throughout, always there for me when I needed her. She’s made this so much easier on me than it could’ve been and I’m so grateful for that. She’s handled everything with such grace; I’m truly in awe. I only hope that one day I will be as strong and capable as her. I’m probably going to have some separation issues whenever the world starts to function in a way that we’re more used to (I mean, we’ve been together almost 24/7 since March when I was usually in London a couple of days a week and she was in and out all day, out for full days, or even away for several days, etc so I’m very used to having her around and she’s become a bit of a touchstone when it comes to my anxiety) but I’m not going to think about that yet. It seems there’ll be plenty of time before that’s going to happen.
Friends – I am so grateful for my friends; I always am but I’m especially grateful this year. I have moments of being terrible at staying in contact and periods of being better (something that’s largely dependent on my mental health) but considering everything this year, I don’t think I’ve done too badly. I’ve been talking to and spending time with different friends in different ways: calling, messaging, video-chatting, watching movies together, a few socially distanced meet ups, etc. I’m really happy we’ve been able to stay in touch even if I do desperately miss spending time with them. They’ve been a real tether to ‘normal’ life and I’m more grateful for that than I can say. This year has also taught me (both as a result of the pandemic and not) what I need in my friendships (not that that’s all that matters but if neither of you are getting what you need most of the time, how are you supposed to make a friendship work?) and I really value that. It doesn’t automatically change anything but I think that knowing what is good for me in a friendship and what isn’t is really important and will only be helpful in the long run.

(There are a handful of people I wish I could include in this collage but don’t have pictures with, from this year anyway.)
Richard – I mean, where do I start? Generally, I’m of the opinion that the universe is completely random but something awesome happened that day six and a half years ago when I sat down next to him on our first day at university. I had no idea that I was meeting one of my best friends, most trusted collaborator, and creative partner. The Honest EP never would’ve happened without him. We worked on every aspect together and I can’t wait for whatever our next project turns out to be. This year has obviously been about as different as we could’ve ever imagined but he’s gone through every high and low with me and I couldn’t be more grateful. I’m so glad that we’ve been able to continue releasing the Honest EP and that we’ve been able to write together despite the pandemic, even if writing remotely isn’t as fun as writing face to face. I’ve missed just hanging out with him, with our friends, and actually doing things that don’t require a screen but I’m so grateful for what we’ve had and what we’ve been able to do despite the difficult circumstances. I don’t feel like I’m saying all of this as eloquently as I’d like to but what I’m trying to say is that I’m beyond grateful for Richard. I don’t know how I got so lucky with such an amazing friend.
All of the years I had with Lucky – January feels a bit like a lifetime ago; I can’t believe it’s only been eleven months since we said goodbye to our precious Lucky. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life but he was ready. I know people say that but you only had to look at him to know that it was the truth. But despite the pain and sadness of that twenty four hours (and obviously since), we had an amazing almost sixteen years with him. From meeting him when he was a few days old, to bringing him home, to teaching him to sit, to the hours we spent playing with him, to sneaking him onto the sofa with me when no one was home, to various people ‘sneaking’ him onto the sofa whenever everyone was in the room, to running around on the beach together, to watch him throw himself into hydrotherapy with such enthusiasm, to lying on the rug in front of the fire together… every second with him was a wonderful gift that I will forever be grateful for.
And while I will always wish to have had more time with him, I’m glad that he didn’t have to manage the pandemic and all the stress surrounding it. He was such a sensitive dog, especially in his old age, and I think it would’ve been really distressing for him. Saying goodbye to him was devastating enough as it was; I know that having him put down during lockdown would’ve been so much worse, especially as it’s likely that we wouldn’t have all been able to be there with him.
My cats – The family of cats have been a bit of a lifesaver to be honest. Early on in the pandemic, their complete obliviousness to the chaos in the world was very calming: they just continued with their lives and there was something very soothing about that. And just throughout the pandemic, the cuteness and silliness and playfulness have been a wonderful distraction or comfort on the more difficult days. On the whole, they’ve all become very snuggly with only me and my Mum around (they absolutely freaked out when they saw a new person for the first time in months) and now, nine months into the pandemic, I rarely go a day without having had at least two cats draped over me at some point. It’s all very cute and very much appreciated. I’m also really, really grateful for their health. I’m always aware of that but with Lucy having a health scare that resulted in two surgeries earlier in the year, I feel particularly grateful that all five of them are well and healthy.
FaceTime, Zoom, Netflix Party, etc – I’m so grateful for the platforms that existed and have come to exist to help us connect with our friends and family (and continue with university) during this time. Yes, I’m sick of only seeing people via screens and I’m even more sick of my eyes always ending up on my own face and, as an autistic person, communicating feels ten times harder but I’m still so glad that we have them so that we can see and talk to and spend time with our friends and family. It’s not enough but it’s better than nothing and I’ll gratefully accept whatever way of connecting I can get.
TV and Film Streaming Services, eg. Netflix, Amazon Prime, etc – Having access to so much media to consume was a great way to escape everything at the beginning of the pandemic and throughout the first UK lockdown. I discovered some really awesome TV shows and movies (about which I’m going to post later this week). It was escapism, but it also kept my brain creative (filling it with stories and characters and ideas) even if I wasn’t able to express it for a long time. And now that I’m writing again, I have so many ideas and stories to tell.
Fanfiction – I mentioned Fanfiction in my Lockdown Favourites post and it’s definitely been one of the things that has helped me throughout the pandemic and lockdowns, especially early on when I was just paralyzed with anxiety. I’ve really struggled with reading during the pandemic; I just haven’t been able to concentrate enough to get into a novel, like there isn’t enough space in my brain for new characters, new worlds, and new storylines. But reading stories set in familiar worlds with characters that I love (Stargate SG-1, Sanctuary, Harry Potter, etc) feels much easier and really comforting, especially when my mental health is shaky. I’ve always found it to be a good form of relaxation and escapism; maybe one day I’ll post my absolute favourites because they’re just so good, so well written and quite possibly better than the originals. I do want to give a particular shout out to Annerb who has been my staple writer this year; I discovered her through her Stargate SG-1 stories and then fell in love with her Harry Potter epic, The Changeling, where Ginny is sorted into Slytherin. I’ve reread that particular story so many times. It’s absolutely incredible: she’s filled out the world of Harry Potter so beautifully, creating real depth to the different houses and characters, both canon and original. I mean, I could talk about it forever. It’s so freaking good.
My piano – My piano and I have been good friends this year, especially since the pandemic began. Between the nerve pain in my left hand that’s made guitar playing all but impossible and the soothing lower octaves of the piano, I spent more time at my piano this year than I probably ever have before. Between the calming sound and the concentration blocking out my anxiety, it’s been one of my favourite things to do. I’ve played so many songs and written quite a few too and it’s another of the things that have kept me going through the pandemic.
The music that got me through this year – I mentioned several songs in my 2020 in Songs post but those were my absolute favourite songs of the year. There were so many more songs and so many more albums that inspired me and encouraged me and helped me to cope with all of my emotions this year and I’m so grateful to every artist that gave me that gift. I’m going to write about a couple specifically but I also want to mention Sara Bareilles (both for seeing her in Waitress several times and for her new music), Halsey, Kelsea Ballerini, and Maren Morris for their various contributions throughout the year that made things just a little easier. I hope I’m not forgetting anyone but if I discover that I have, I’ll come back and add them.
Kalie Shorr – I am so grateful that I walked into that Tin Pan South/Song Suffragettes show in 2016 and saw Kalie play. There were so many shows I could’ve gone to and yet, somehow I ended up at that one and it has had such a big impact on my life. I mean, I wouldn’t have gotten to play at a Song Suffragettes show if I hadn’t gone to that show. But my point here is that I heard Kalie’s music for the first time that night and since then, she’s released the Slingshot EP, the Awake EP, her debut album, Open Book, and Open Book: Unabridged, a reissue of the album with four additional songs. Her artistry and songwriting got better with every project but each one still holds a special place in my heart. I love her music and I learn so much from her as a songwriter. She is one of my biggest musical inspirations and I hope that, at some point, I will develop as distinctive a voice as a songwriter and artist as Kalie has. So I guess that’s why I’m grateful for her in general but I’m also especially grateful for all she’s been doing this year. Throughout the pandemic, she’s done so many livestreams on various platforms, which has been really awesome. We’ve gotten interesting and funny stories, acoustic songs, previously unheard songs… it’s been great. And while I’m obviously still enjoying them, they were particularly important to me during the early days of the pandemic when my mental health was really bad; they really helped me keep going. She’s also been part of various other musical projects, puts out a podcast, is consistently hilarious on Twitter, and released the previously mentioned Open Book: Unabridged. I’d hoped to see her this year on my trip to Nashville but then said trip was cancelled by the pandemic. I’ve met her a handful of times and she’s so lovely. I wish I lived in Nashville; then at least there’d be a chance of us being friends and writing together. I’d love that. I admit that my insecurities do sometimes get the better of me and I struggle with, I guess, comparison anxiety (how well she’s doing vs. how I’m doing) just because I want to have a career in music so badly and have so many fears over why it won’t happen, but I’m still endlessly grateful for her and everything she does. Her music has changed my life for the better in so many ways and I appreciate that more than I can say.
Taylor Swift – Despite remaining largely out of sight during the pandemic, Taylor had a massive year and by extension of that, a massive impact on my year. Her documentary, Miss Americana, came out in January, of course, which was incredible; it felt like a great honour to be let into her life like that, especially during the moments that were really difficult and personal. She also released the City of Lover Concert on Disney+, which was really cool (although it was sad that her pre-Lover songs couldn’t be included); I’d so desperately wanted to go (especially since it was so close, considering that Taylor’s a US artist) but it was just too big a risk with my health and my finances as they were. So I’m really grateful that I got to see it in some form. Even though we got folklore and evermore out of the lockdown, I still want to mention the cancellation of Lover Fest. Even though it wasn’t unexpected, I was absolutely gutted; that and my Nashville trip were the top two most painful cancellations of the pandemic. I was so looking forward to it – the times I’ve seen Taylor live have been some of the bright spots over the last five or so really difficult years – and to have that ripped away was really hard (in a parallel year that I’ve daydreamed up, it still happened and it was glorious). But then we got folklore, folklore: the long pond studio sessions on Disney+, AND evermore, all in the space of about six months. I don’t know about anyone else but my head is still spinning. folklore and evermore are both incredible albums (I’m currently writing blog posts about them because I love them so much) with so many amazing songs that I’ve completely fallen in love with. They’ve also been hugely inspiring for me as a songwriter, which the long pond studio sessions only added to when Taylor talked about the songs from folklore and the processes behind the writing of them. She has just been a very inspirational figure for me this year (she always is but, again, this year has been a real example of that): as a songwriter and general creative person, handling the ongoing situation around her Masters with so much grace, speaking out during the US election and giving the Democrats her song, ‘Only The Young,’ to use in their campaign, being a really good example around safety during the pandemic… I’m so grateful for all she does, for how inspiring she is, for how much she CARES. I’m grateful to have her to look up to. I’m still hoping that I’ll get the opportunity to tell her that one day.
Agents of Shield – I was gutted to hear that this year’s season was going to be the last but damn, do they know how to go out with a bang. I wasn’t convinced about the time travelling element at first but I ended up really getting into it and I loved how, even though they stopped the Chronicoms each time, time still changed and they ended up in a drastically different present. Every episode was really, really good and a few of them were standouts of the entire show (7×09 – I’m just saying…). I loved the stories, I loved the development of the characters, and I loved the ending. It was perfect. I was sobbing throughout the last few episodes because it was so powerful and emotional. Daisy Johnson is my hero. I will love her forever. I will love this show forever. I’m so grateful to have discovered it, to have had it in my life, and to move forward with everything the show gave me. There may be no new episodes but that doesn’t mean it’s over; the impact it had on so many people will never be over.
The new swimming pool we found – Late in the summer, we found a swimming pool that was really strict about their safety guidelines and having not felt safe at my previous pool, I was so appreciative of that and so excited to get to swim again. It wasn’t as often as I would’ve liked but anything was better than nothing after months of not having access to a pool or not feeling like it was safe to be at a pool. It just felt so great to get proper exercise and really use my muscles again after not being able to since before the pandemic. I love this pool, especially when they turn the main lights off and the room is just lit by the underwater lights; it’s so soothing and just a really good atmosphere to exercise in. I always feel so good afterwards.

The benefits I receive – I am so unbelievably grateful for the benefits I get, more grateful than I can truly express. As a disabled person who struggles physically and mentally, I’m constantly worrying about money because my health is so unreliable and therefore steady work or a steady work flow can be really difficult or even, at times, impossible. So the financial support has been amazing and so important for my mental health, especially during this year of constant uncertainty.
The (medical) progress I’ve made despite the pandemic – Despite everything moving slowly due the pandemic (my rheumatology referral, for example, took about nine months), we’ve learned a lot about my body and my brain this year and we’re in the process of exploring the options, the avenues we have to choose from. I made medication changes, we chased more options for helping my CFS, was tested for a Vitamin D deficiency and given a high dose supplement to bring my levels up again, I was diagnosed with hypermobility, I finally had the rheumatology appointment and have been referred on to a handful of different departments. I’ve had a MRI, I’m due to have an ECG, and will hopefully start hydrotherapy as soon as it’s available, although I’ve already started doing the basic exercises I was given. And we’ll see what the other departments say. Oh, and I have another mental health evaluation coming up soon, which may give me some more information so, despite everything, we have made progress and progress that is hopefully leading to more progress. As hard as it can be day-to-day, I’m really pleased about that.
The result of the US Election – I mean, this one is pretty obvious. I was so terrified that Trump was going to get in and it was so scary to have no say or way to help. The days of waiting for the final result were agonizing and when I found out that Biden had won, I actually cried. No, he’s not perfect but he’s far, far better than Trump and I’m so grateful, in this regard at least, to finally have some hope rather than fear and horror and frustration.
My tutors – Of the two semesters I had this year, all of my tutors have been so, so good. And not just in the ‘being good teachers’ sense (you’d hope that was a given at Masters level) but they’ve all been so fantastic about working WITH me to make sure the classes and workload and assessments were as manageable as possible for me with my difficulties. They’ve been so open and supportive and they’ve made the semesters so much much easier; I mean, the work was still hard (but then it’s a Masters Degree so the work is supposed to be hard) but there wasn’t that unnecessary stress that there has been before. I’m still anxious about my grades but that’s practically a personality trait. Anyway, they’ve been absolutely wonderful and I so appreciate it.
The experience of the Honest EP – The first track of the EP, ‘Bad Night,’ came out in 2019 but the other four came out this year, including accompanying music videos and additional content like remixes and behind the scenes for the songs and videos. Making and releasing and promoting all of that was often really stressful but so much of it was really fun too. The beginning of the year was really fun: releasing ‘Clarity‘ and see it do better than ‘Bad Night,’ doing several really fun gigs with really lovely people (there was a really awesome moment where everyone was waving their phones with the flashlights on and another where everyone got really into the song, dancing and even singing along despite it being the song’s first outing), playing my university’s songwriters’ circle, a weird and wonderful studio day… and then the pandemic hit. My mental health took a real dive but things kept moving. I released a remix of ‘Clarity’ with an accompanying music video, which was definitely a new experience. Then I released ‘Sounds Like Hope‘ along with the gorgeous music video animated by Lois de Silva. I saw myself on TV when the music video for my debut single, ‘Invisible,’ was played as part of Brighton’s virtual Disability Pride Festival. Richard and I managed to film and edit the music video for ‘Back To Life‘ (during a period when it was safe to do so – we were very careful about that) in time for the planned release of the song. Even though shooting that video was super stressful, I was still able to have fun: it’s such an upbeat song that it was really fun to prance around to and even though the sea was freezing and the pebbles were painful to stand on, messing around in the shallows was actually kind of joyful. So the song and video came out and then, at the end of October, the fifth and final track, ‘Honest,’ came out, which was really exciting. It did really well and Richard and I celebrated the day with a dance party and a shot (I can’t speak for Richard but I’m a lightweight). It was a really fun day. We put together a music video for it, using clips from this whole bizarre journey; it felt very fitting for a song called ‘Honest.’ And as of this moment, the EP has surpassed 35,000 streams on Spotify, which I’m both really proud of and really grateful for, grateful to everyone who took the time to listen to these little songs that I wrote. There have been so many beautiful moments during this journey and it’s not even over yet; there’s still more to do and more to come. It’s been incredibly stressful but I’ve never felt so strongly that I’m in the right place as when I’ve been working on this project and performing these songs. I’m so grateful to and for all of the wonderful people who’ve worked on this project with and supported me through it, especially Richard and Mum. I couldn’t’ve done this without them. I’ve learned so much and gained more than I could’ve imagined (not financially unfortunately but in so many other ways). This project has changed my life and I’m beyond grateful.
The ‘little’ things – There were just a handful of things that I wanted to mention that there wasn’t really enough to say about for each of them to have their own bullet point but I didn’t want to leave out: my neighbour rescuing my cat when she got stuck up a tree even though he later told us he was afraid of heights; my brother doing a gorgeous job on creating a brand new leg for one of the china horses I got from my Dad (we think it got broken when we moved house); my therapist; the new cat tree and how adorable it is when all of the cats curl up on it at once; Tin Pan South still going ahead, if virtually rather than physically; the concerts I got to go to pre-pandemic; being able to dye my hair at home… I’m sure there are more but these are the ones that are coming to mind as I write this. Again, if I remember any others, I’ll come back and add them to the list.
So there you have it. This ended up a whole lot longer than I meant it to be but I think I am just really grateful. This year has been horrible in so many ways but it’s just made it really clear to me how good the good things are. And, as always, there have been some unexpected surprises along the way, things I never could’ve seen coming. I’m sure there are more things I could add but I’m gonna stop and go and do my Christmas wrapping. I hope you all have the best Christmas possible under these weird, hard circumstances. I hope you feel the things you need to feel and do things that make you feel good. Life is hard right now and no one should have to pretend otherwise. So I hope you’re looking after yourselves and I’m sending you big, virtual hugs.
Category: about me, animals, anxiety, autism, chronic fatigue, covid-19 pandemic, depression, diagnosis, emotions, favourites, holidays, medication, mental health, music, treatment, university Tagged: 2020, agents of shield, amazon prime, annerb, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, back to life, bad night, benefits, best friend, black labrador, cat, cat family, cats, christmas, christmas eve, clarity, coronavirus, covid-19, debut ep, disability, disability support, disabled, dog, ep, exercise, facetime, family, family of cats, fanfiction, film, films, financial support, friends, grateful, gratitude, health, honest, honest ep, hypermobile, hypermobility, kalie shorr, keyboard, lockdown, lockdown 2.0, lockdown 2020, loss, loss of a pet, lucky, masters degree, masters degree in songwriting, masters degree year two, masters part time, mother, movie, movies, mum, music, music video, music video release, music video shoot, netflix, netflix party, pandemic, pandemic 2020, pandemic anxiety, pet, pet loss, pets, physical health, piano, richard marc, richard sanderson, singer, singersongwriter, singersongwriter life, single, songwriter, sounds like hope, streaming, swimming, taylor swift, the changeling, tv, tv show, university, us election, us election 2020, zoom
Posted on February 29, 2020
After my last post, I was scrolling through my YouTube ‘Watch Later’ playlist when I saw this video. It may have been masochistic but I watched it and thought it might be relevant to post here, especially after my last post.
Our experiences (my recent experience at least) are very different as her cat was ill for an extended period and Lucky, although struggling physically, was happy and engaged and as healthy as an old dog could be until the night before. There wasn’t really time to come to the decision comfortably (or as comfortably as possible) but, for me, as distressing as it was, I knew it was time. It felt like he was telling us that. So again, (potentially) different scenarios.
She talks about Quality of Life scales and I looked them up but again, that sort of thing wasn’t really applicable in our situation. The change was so dramatic that we would’ve taken him to the vet regardless. In my opinion, I’m not sure a scale or internet numbers can make that sort of decision for you. I think that’s a decision only you and your vet can make.
She mentions financial situations, which is an important point. We were lucky (a pun that never got old – at least for me) that Lucky was insured so we were able to get him the painkillers and medications he needed, the hydrotherapy to build and then manage muscle mass, and cover the vet appointments. If I could give anyone with a pet one piece of advice, it would be to insure said pet. It’s been a life saver, quite literally at times, with our animals and I’m so grateful. It’s also given us the time to get used to the idea of the loss of them because it’s often been less sudden (Lucky might’ve deteriorated in a day but he’d been struggling – with support – for a while so we were aware of the situation).
“If your pet is terminally ill, you may have to put them down before you feel comfortable doing so and if that’s the case, it’s okay. I want you to know it’s okay.”
She mentions five factors that help you to make this decision:
She also explains the process of the in home euthanasia of her cat, Jimmy.
“What I found most comforting in this time is the following words from my therapist: ‘Jimmy found a loving and wonderful mother in you. That is a part of life that transcends time and gets to be yours always. Your time with your pet is yours, always. And you’ll know when it’s time to let them go. It’s a very brave, compassionate, and really hard decision but I and your furbaby trust that you will do right by them.'”
She ends with a variation on her usual closing: “I’m Anna Akana. Go and adopt some fucking cats and love them for me. Goodbye.”
Posted on February 22, 2020
On the 29th January 2020, we said goodbye to our beloved dog, Lucky, whom we’d had for nearly sixteen years. This is hard to write about – that’s why it’s taken so long for me to write and post it – but I felt like it would be a dishonour to him to not write about him so this is a piece about his life, how much we loved him, and how much we miss him. I’m not going to lie: I’m already crying as I write this so fair warning that this will be an emotional piece. It’s going to jump around a bit but I’ll try and keep it roughly in chronological order.
We first met Lucky when he was two or three days old. I was pretty young – only nine years old – so I don’t remember how we found out about the litter of Labrador puppies that needed homes but we’d been talking about getting a dog for a long time. In fact, it was one of the reasons we moved from London to Brighton. We didn’t want to have a dog in London. As it turned out, we lived all but next to a park and the puppies were on the other side.
Holding such a young puppy is a magical experience. They’re all sleepy and soft and they have too much skin. Plus, they smell amazing. I’ve never understood the whole baby smell thing but puppy smell is just wonderful to me. I don’t know if the puppy I first held was Lucky but I like to think so. And there’s no way for any of us to know.
We spent the next eight or nine weeks visiting them, playing with them and bonding with them. There was certain ones that had already been claimed and we ended up with the runt. Lucky, our beautiful, little runt. He was so funny looking as he grew. He was all disproportional: he had a long body with short legs, a big head, and a squished up face (don’t worry – he ended up proportional and I may be biased but I think he turned out to be the most handsome of the litter). But we thought he was gorgeous and loved him from the moment we knew he was ours. It was great to be surrounded by puppies, playing together and chasing and chewing each other, but we were just entranced by our baby and spent every possible moment with him.
Eventually they were ready to leave, eating solid food and mostly house trained. I remember the first night: he spent a lot of time exploring his new home (he was only allowed downstairs, giving our cat, Snubby, the upstairs floors to escape from him if she needed a break) and then fell asleep and we let him sleep on the sofa. He wasn’t going to be allowed to do that but we figured it was a special occasion. It was so cute. He was still so, so small. Then we put him to bed and went to bed ourselves. He cried all night, suddenly alone for the first time in his life. We all ended sitting on the top landing, out of his sight, desperate to go to him but knowing that it was the right thing to do. It’s what you have to do.
As I mentioned, we already had a cat, Snubby. She wasn’t a particularly social cat at the best of the times and she was deeply disgusted by this enthusiastic, bouncy… thing. She mainly stayed upstairs for the first few months but when she had to get anywhere near him, she’d swipe at him, leaving him bewildered as to why she didn’t want to play or at least engage. But she wanted nothing to do with him. Over time, she became a bit more relaxed around him (i.e. less swiping) but she never did anything more than coexist with him.

We got to straight to work with the training. He was really smart. We continued with the house training, sit, stay, drop (the toy, stick, whatever he was holding)… he never quite grasped that one. Or wanted to grasp that one. He loved to bring you things; he just didn’t like to actually let you have them.
One of my favourite memories of training him though, was teaching him his name. In various combinations, we’d go down to the woods where there was a somewhat closed off path (meaning he couldn’t really go anywhere but down the path) and stand about ten metres apart. We’d call his name, again and again, and he’d run back and forth, rewarded with treats. We probably spent hours doing that and eventually he learned that his name was Lucky.
Season after season, we’d walk through woods, over fields, by the sea… Because of school, Mum working from home, and what turned out to be my Autism and Chronic Fatigue, Mum did most of the big walks but I still managed some of them. My favourite ones were in the summer, flinging balls for Lucky and he’d run so fast that he’d overtake them, sometimes tripping over his own legs. The woods and the fields… they were all especially magical at golden hour. Those are my favourite memories of walking him.
He also loved to swim, which was very helpful when he developed a problem with his elbow and needed hydrotherapy. Labradors are notorious for problems with arthritis so we knew that it was something we were going to have to deal with during his life (thank god we insured him: he had so many medical problems throughout his life). Anyway, he loved hydrotherapy. He would chase a toy around a small pool of warm water and the hydrotherapist would actually have to hold him back to stop him exerting himself (the jacket is a flotation jacket so he could focus on swimming and not on keeping himself afloat). He absolutely loved it and it really helped his elbow.

One of my family’s yearly traditions is spending a week in Norfolk, usually in the autumn. We’d stay in a cottage and then a caravan closer to the beach and we’d walk through the woods and through the sand dunes. It’s one of my favourite places. I step onto that beach and it’s like I’ve found something I didn’t realise I was looking for. It’s magical.
Lucky has always loved it, from the lounging on the caravan deck to chasing sticks into the sea. As he got older, he managed less and less until he was basically just chilling on the deck with the odd walk around the caravan. But during our last trip together, we drove to the flattest beach and walked slowly out to the shallows. We paddled together and rolled the tennis ball that Lucky had picked up somewhere back and forth. We were very aware that this could be the last time so we took our time and tried to enjoy every second. Then we slowly walked back, stopping multiple times for Lucky to rest his legs. There was a sadness to the day but we tried to just live in that precise moment and having said all of that, I look back on that day and smile because I know Lucky was happy.
There were years of love, years and years of love. I wish I could describe all the details but we’d be here until Christmas. Longer. For a long time, my morning routine began with a shower and walking the dog at about 7am. That was my day and it was a good way to start the day. I missed it when life changed, even though the early start was early.
When Snubby was put to sleep in 2014, me and Lucky got even closer. He’d stick close to me and greet me with great enthusiasm whenever I came home from uni. He was always very sensitive and in tune with people’s emotions (the older he got, the more sensitive he got until he even had to leave the room when people on TV got upset). We spent a lot of time that winter, curled up in front of the TV together, warmed by the fire. It was very comforting.
About a year after Snubby was put to sleep, we got a new kitten, Lucy. My world just didn’t make sense without a cat in it. And Lucky’s reaction was so funny. You could almost see him rolling his eyes. I tried to make sure I still spent a good amount of time with Lucky, just the two of us. But I could almost see the ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ look in his eyes.
Hilariously, Lucy adored Lucky and wouldn’t leave him alone. She always wanted to play, bringing him toys and pouncing on him and so on. It was so cute. And he didn’t know what to do with that because he’d only ever known a cat that swiped at him. So it took him a long time to adjust. I don’t think he ever loved her the way she loved him but he tolerated her and her love of him. She was always in his bed, both when he was in it and when he wasn’t, and she even went on his evening walk around the block with him. It was adorable.

Once the elbow issue had been resolved, he didn’t need hydrotherapy again for a long time. But then, as he got older and his muscles in his legs started to weaken and waste away, we went back to hydro. He loved it and would swim so hard that the hydrotherapist had trouble monitoring the extensions of each of his legs. Over time, he slowed down, content to get to the ball; he knew it would be there when he got there. We continued liked that for years, managing the muscles in his legs. As an older dog, we couldn’t build the muscles back up but we could keep him going, keep him as strong as possible. And he loved it. And I loved watching him do it because you could see how happy he was.
As I said in my Birthday Rules post, for my 24th birthday, I actually got to do it with him once, which was a really special experience. It was really hard work and there was a lot to concentrate on, but it was surprisingly therapeutic for me as well as him. We both fell asleep on our respective soft surfaces when we got home and could barely make it through the day. It was funny to think that I was experiencing what he experience every time he had a hydro session. It was a really cool way to spend my birthday.
Moving house changed things, as much as I wish it hadn’t. The living room was upstairs and having spent his whole life being told he wasn’t allowed upstairs (plus his rather dodgy legs – he was about fourteen at the time), it was a difficult adjustment. He did eventually make sense of it and join us upstairs, in the living room (where I spend most of my time), which made me so happy.
He was making his way upstairs quite easily until one evening when everything changed. I was sitting at the kitchen table when I looked up and saw that Lucky was tilting his head almost ninety degrees. I thought he was having a stroke. Mum drove him to the emergency vet and they said he would be okay but I wasn’t convinced. The next morning we took him to our usual vet and he was diagnosed with Geriatric Vestibular Disease, so he was essentially having constant vertigo. Poor baby.
The next couple of weeks were very stressful as he was treated and slowly recovered. He did eventually recover but he was never quite the same. Personality wise he was, but physically, he had deteriorated quite dramatically. His balance was awful and was until the end and his legs, especially his back legs, were very weak and kind of like they weren’t completely within his control. From that point on, he needed a harness so that we could help him up when he was lying down, as well as up and down the stairs into the kitchen. Plus his head remained tilted for the rest of his life. That always made me sad. It’s something you never think you’ll miss: your dog looking at you straight on. I really, really missed it.

Interestingly, he became much more attached to my Mum after this experience. Apparently that’s not uncommon: for a pet to become particularly attached to one person after a traumatic experience like a period of serious illness. The hydrotherapist said she’s seen it happen a lot. He always wanted to be with her and couldn’t settle if she was absent, for ten minutes or a couple of days. It was quite distressing, not to be able to soothe him.
As I’ve already said, his legs were very weak. I got home a few weeks ago and he couldn’t stand. And whatever I did, I couldn’t get him on his feet. It’s like his back legs had given up. It was like he’d give up, like he was done. Like it was just too hard. It was horrible. I ricocheted between calm and rational and then terrified and frozen. I don’t think I can write any more about that night but in the morning, the decision had been made – as I’d expected – that he was going to be put to sleep. I knew it was coming and I knew it was coming then. I was expending every ounce of energy holding everything together. I felt like I was literally holding the pieces of the outer shell of my body together, and therefore holding all of the overwhelming emotions inside. I managed it for the most part, although a few tears escaped on occasion.

We got him to the vet and stood around him, stroking him, as the vet gave him a series of injections and then he was gone. But this was different to my last experience, different to when Snubby was put to sleep. I held her in my arms as they injected the drugs and I still remember the moment she was gone. But it was like Lucky was already gone (god, this is horrible to write). That thought was a sickening, awful one but that’s how it felt.
They left us alone with him to have a few moments but when it was time to leave, I had Mum get someone to be with him. I just couldn’t leave him alone. I couldn’t do it, even though it wasn’t really him anymore. At least that’s what people say. I’m not sure what I truly believe about that. Anyway, we stood outside the vet (they let us deal with everything later) – the four of us – and cried. And cried. And cried.
We went home and I spent the day collating photos of Lucky because I needed to have something to do that related to him. I needed to hold onto him. And now we’re moving forward, physically at least. I don’t think we’re moving forward emotionally yet. I don’t like the idea of ‘yet’.
We’ve since had a card from the vet with his paw print and a little packet of forget-me-not seeds, which I personally really appreciate. That was really kind of them and it’s already really special to me. We’ll have to decide where to plant the seeds but personally I like the idea of doing it where we can see them. Through the kitchen doors, maybe.
Soon we’ll get his ashes and have to decide what to do with them too. One idea is to scatter them where we taught him his name. I like that idea. But it has to be unanimous and we haven’t made a decision yet. We don’t even have the ashes yet so there’s no point worrying about it just yet. We’ll figure it out.
As a soul, he was a bit of a legend. Everyone who knew him loved him, even people who weren’t that keen on dogs. He just had some magic in him. I love him more than I can ever express and I will miss him for the rest of my life. The house feels empty and there’s a big gap that actually feels tangible in our lives. I have moments of calm and acceptance and then suddenly I remember and the bottom drops out of my world. It’s awful. And I just want to cry all the time, about Lucky but also about anything and everything. I’m just so sad. My body – my universe – is just so full of sadness. I just can’t believe I’ll never see him again. I’ll never stroke the brown patch on his nose or stroke the softest ears in the world. And when I automatically glance downstairs as I move around the house he’s NOT THERE and it just doesn’t make sense. It just doesn’t make any sense. It’s awful; I think anyone who’s ever lost a pet can relate to this.
I was talking to a friend the other day and they said that he lived a good life. And this friend wasn’t wrong. But when I think about it, I think the more important part is that he lived a loved life. And he did. He lived a very loved life.


Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), ADHD (Inattentive Type), and Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), as well as several mental health issues.
I’m a singer-songwriter (it’s my biggest special interest and I have both a BA and MA in songwriting) so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is on all platforms, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
My debut EP, Honest, is available on all platforms, with a limited physical run at Resident Music in Brighton.
I’m currently working on an album about my experiences as an autistic woman.
Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), ADHD (Inattentive Type), and Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), as well as several mental health issues.
I’m a singer-songwriter (it’s my biggest special interest and I have both a BA and MA in songwriting) so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is on all platforms, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
My debut EP, Honest, is available on all platforms, with a limited physical run at Resident Music in Brighton.
I’m currently working on an album about my experiences as an autistic woman.
Finding Hope