This evening was the first night since last weekend that Molly would actually go out in the yard alone to relieve herself. Hell, on the weekend she wouldn't even come out from under the couch and was busting to wee come 6 a.m. Next year I'm going to the vet to get something to sedate her with as I can't take the constant fight to get her out the door, never mind the anxiety she stirs in us all by practically giving herself a hear attack from fear. Next year if we don't do something to calm her, we run the risk of watching our dog freak out to the point of exhaustion, or at the very least break a bone from hurtling herself at the door if she happens to be outside and a fire-work goes off.
I've been reading the papers from home a lot this past week, keeping tabs on the War Bride Train, sometimes getting misty eyed at the stories some women have to tell. Mom rang me Tuesday night and said she thought of me when one woman was quoted 'The hardest part for me was leaving my mum behind'. I can relate. However the difference between these women and myself was that unlike them I have easy (and inexpensive) access to the phone and knew that I would be seeing my mom and family in less than a year. Compared to these women I have had it easy. I knew where I was going and what I was letting myself in for (for the most part). These women left their families behind and travelled on such a long journey, many with small children, to a vast country, often to find themselves having to travel thousands of miles beyond their landing point, some into very remote places entirely different to the cities/towns they left behind. Pier 21 was only the beginning for many of them. I'm so proud that my homeland is honouring these women in such a way, they certainly deserve it. At the same time, I can't help but feel a small level of kinship with them.