Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Rest in Peace
You know that part in As Good as it Gets when Jack Nicholson is playing the piano and then he starts laughing for being all sad about a dog?
That's nothing compared to this. I miss my dog. I must've hugged her a million times this morning. She let me pet her the whole time in the car, and she had been so uncomfortable she hardly let anyone touch her anymore.
That was her gift to me. That was her goodbye to me.
I'm so glad I went with my folks. I wanted to be there for her, like she's been there for me.
When I was 10 years old I had to have surgery, and for days before the surgery I was in a lot of pain. The doctors were giving me Tylenol with Codeine. My grandparents came to our house and took care of me during the day. Mostly I just took my medicine and passed out on the love seat. But my puppy never left my side. She stayed next to me all day. She even growled at my grandparents when they came by, hah.
I don't think anyone could understand what this feels like unless they've been through it. A pet is unique because it acutely affects its family and its family only. No one else would know her or love her as much as we did, for her entire life.
I've started to think of life like a lottery. Last night I did. Not just dating. The whole thing. But if it is, then she won. Because she was adopted from the pound when she was five weeks old, and she got more than anyone could ever imagine or hope for: two parents and three little girls to shower her with love, attention and affection.
When you're a kid, you don't think about life and death. I know I could never have foreseen from the happy day when we brought her home to today's tragedy and triumph: having to go to sleep and never wake up more than 15 years later.
She held on because she was strong. She held on until we were ready. Until we were ready to come out from our denial and our own selfish needs to see that she was suffering.
Last night I got my answer. I watched her and listened to her in every uncomfortable hour. She couldn't lay down or walk around for long. She kept pacing, and drinking tons of water. The vet said today she most likely had this incurable disease where calcium deposits cause itching all over the body. She itched so badly she had eaten off much of her fur and her skin was raw. Sometimes she would make herself bleed, and my parents would find her that way.
It's my dad's birthday. I'm so sorry. They were so concerned they made the appointment barely remembering that. He said doing this was his birthday present to himself, so he wouldn't have to see her suffer anymore, so she could be in peace. He said it meant so much just that we went with him today.
About a dog. Yep. That's what this is about. But I fucking love my dog. So much. I grew up with her, and she grew up with me. I'm glad she's in peace now though. I know she didn't feel any pain this morning, and won't anymore.
God, I'm going to miss her. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
You know that part in As Good as it Gets when Jack Nicholson is playing the piano and then he starts laughing for being all sad about a dog?
That's nothing compared to this. I miss my dog. I must've hugged her a million times this morning. She let me pet her the whole time in the car, and she had been so uncomfortable she hardly let anyone touch her anymore.
That was her gift to me. That was her goodbye to me.
I'm so glad I went with my folks. I wanted to be there for her, like she's been there for me.
When I was 10 years old I had to have surgery, and for days before the surgery I was in a lot of pain. The doctors were giving me Tylenol with Codeine. My grandparents came to our house and took care of me during the day. Mostly I just took my medicine and passed out on the love seat. But my puppy never left my side. She stayed next to me all day. She even growled at my grandparents when they came by, hah.
I don't think anyone could understand what this feels like unless they've been through it. A pet is unique because it acutely affects its family and its family only. No one else would know her or love her as much as we did, for her entire life.
I've started to think of life like a lottery. Last night I did. Not just dating. The whole thing. But if it is, then she won. Because she was adopted from the pound when she was five weeks old, and she got more than anyone could ever imagine or hope for: two parents and three little girls to shower her with love, attention and affection.
When you're a kid, you don't think about life and death. I know I could never have foreseen from the happy day when we brought her home to today's tragedy and triumph: having to go to sleep and never wake up more than 15 years later.
She held on because she was strong. She held on until we were ready. Until we were ready to come out from our denial and our own selfish needs to see that she was suffering.
Last night I got my answer. I watched her and listened to her in every uncomfortable hour. She couldn't lay down or walk around for long. She kept pacing, and drinking tons of water. The vet said today she most likely had this incurable disease where calcium deposits cause itching all over the body. She itched so badly she had eaten off much of her fur and her skin was raw. Sometimes she would make herself bleed, and my parents would find her that way.
It's my dad's birthday. I'm so sorry. They were so concerned they made the appointment barely remembering that. He said doing this was his birthday present to himself, so he wouldn't have to see her suffer anymore, so she could be in peace. He said it meant so much just that we went with him today.
About a dog. Yep. That's what this is about. But I fucking love my dog. So much. I grew up with her, and she grew up with me. I'm glad she's in peace now though. I know she didn't feel any pain this morning, and won't anymore.
God, I'm going to miss her. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
Labels: Man's Best Friend
2 Comments:
About a *friend* Cara ... and one you've known over half your life.
No shame at all in grieving. While certainly nothing I can say would ease any of that, know that you have my sympathies.
--Dave
By 
, at
6:30 PM
Thank you, Dave. I really appreciate that.
