In my 42 years on this planet I have lost 2 grandmothers, 2 grandfathers, 2 Aunts, 2 Uncles, my Mom, 4 dogs, and 1 cat. 2 of the dogs lived to be 20, 1 was a Black Lab Husky mix and the other was a German Shepherd mix that looked like a wolf. The cat was an indoor cat and lived to be 22. Having to euthanize a sick pet that is only almost 7 kills me. I admit I do not handle death well since my mother’s passing 7 years ago. Animals have always been hard on me, I’ve always had a special connection with them. Even the most aggressive animals change around me. (This was observed by several other people I’m not delusional) I’ve given CPR to several dogs but no humans. I have more compassion and empathy for animals than humans. Maybe because what you see is what you get. You know in the wild it’s survival of the fittest. The other animals don’t lie to you, if you’re the weak one then guess what? You’re gone. But some do know about a love and loyalty so fierce they would kill for it. I have found that lacking in the Society around me.
My dad was sobbing uncontrollably this morning when I told him we had to let our Chihuahua go. This man was in the Navy, has tattoos on his forearms like Popeye and worked a blue collar job. But he loved that dog. He would hold him in his arms like a baby and sing to him some made up song he thought was funny. Pookie would only respond to my voice which is kind of high pitched and a little cartoonish. My father would have to imitate me to get him to come in from outside. I would hide and laugh until tears rolled down my cheeks and I started coughing. Pookie slept with my dad every night curled up next to his head on his pillow. When I was feeling extremely low Pookie would somehow know. He would look at me and then run as fast as he could to jump in my lap and lick my eyes where tears had started. I have since read that Chihuahuas are the best dogs for people with Bipolar Disorder because they can sense their moods. I know Pookie could.
A few people have already expressed their opinions that “it’s just a dog”. No, he wasn’t. He was family. He helped more than most of my actual family.
Did my sister answer her phone? No. Her father is in a ball crying and I’m right along with him and she doesn’t answer her phone. Am I surprised? No. My father has cried in front of me a total of 5 times in 42 years. He doesn’t show emotion easily. I called my brother in law and he said ” I don’t know what you expect her to do about any of it”. How about just calling your f**king father and offering support instead of leaving it all to me as usual? My sister doesn’t care about animals and apparently she doesn’t care about her family either.
I will cry, scream, and grieve for as long as it takes. He was my dog, my best friend, and I loved him. If the rest of the world doesn’t understand I feel sorry for you.