She doesn't leave the house much, the only times she does with regularity involve walking her dogs, Chloe (about 12) and Pepsi (7). Chloe has been through a lot of problems in the last twelve months - potentially cancerous growths and several risky operations to cut them away, excess weight potentially crippling her hind legs, and the extreme opposite of her suddenly losing weight dramatically - so it was a shock to hear that last night Pepsi began to go into shivering spasms. Nan said at 8 PM she was perfectly fine, besides a wobbly tooth. By 9 PM she was barely able to stand, with Chloe acting motherly towards her and trying to keep her going.
Mum had to go up to Nan's and take Pepsi around to a few vets. Sadly, despite the vets looking after her overnight, Pepsi died this morning. I'm not sure how to react to it. I can feel emotions inside of me relating to this, but I can't really do much with it - the emotion feels bottled up; I had no last chance to see Pepsi and remember her. I suppose when I go to Nan's and things seem quieter without her around, then it'll sink in.
This is going to scare my Nan like nothing else could. Chloe, we've practically had to say goodbye to her twice this year - and Pepsi's death is completely out of nowhere. She apparently had septicemia - blood poisoning - but there were no symptoms before her collapse last night. I don't think I see my Nan going outside when she doesn't have the dogs to walk, she genuinely doesn't like the outside world any more. I don't think I can convince her to go out - she's lost belief in herself.
I've heard a statement a few times recently; sometimes people keep on going while they have a purpose, and once that purpose is over, the person withers away. I can see that being true for Nan. I'm not sure I want to say that, to admit to it... but it's likely. She's always been a dog person, always looked after them. She's resilient to get any more dogs - she only got Pepsi because my sister couldn't look after her and Chloe because her previous owners abused her. I can't see her house without dogs to look after. Deep down, I don't think she can either.
On Christmas, Nan and the dogs usually come up. The family, the company - it'll keep her mind off what's happened to Pepsi. But when she gets back home, I am not sure of what could happen. I'm not optimistic without Pepsi there, though.