Going back through previous journal entries I realized 2006 was a bad year over all... I lost my dog and my sister's father. Yeah, I can hear the imaginary readers out there saying "its just a dog" but to me (ready for the cliche reply) he was more. Like I tried to state, we grew up together, literally. I don't really have any early memories that he wasn't a part of. That dog was there for our weekend trips to Homer, he was there when we moved into an RV, he was there when my dad pulled out a gun and asked my mom to kill him; you get it right, he was ALWAYS there. I honestly felt that he was an extension of me. I spent at least a month only sleeping once I had cried myself out. It hurts now, thinking of him. I lost him the first of July.
Chris was a different story. When he first entered out lives I hated him, hell throughout most of his life with my mom I hated him. Deep down I truly loved him, but he pissed me off so much. When his tumor came back it scared me. A man who routinely pissed me of because of his stubbornness, a man who was fiercely independent and never showed any sign of weakness suddenly needed help to the bathroom because he couldn't feel his left side...It didn't help, me and my friend would walk him to the toilet, then leave the bathroom only to have him fall over. Rinse and repeat as necessary until he loses control of his bladder. That only happened once before we called someone while crying hysterically. He passed four days after Christmas. That was one terrible holiday season, but we still held up the facade of cheerfulness... Christmas still reminds me of losing him.
Why can't something bad happen when there are no holidays/birthdays near? Because that'd be too easy, that's why. This year it was the day after Mom's birthday. We had to out Bebo to sleep. The vet said it was best, that he'd only spend his remaining life in pain and receiving treatments everyday. This one's still too fresh and painful to go into too much detail, as is I'm already near tears. I'll just say that I was in there when they did it (here come the tears as I think about it) I saw everything, and I hated every moment of it. What if the vet was wrong, what if we murdered him for nothing? I have to go now, I'm afraid that if I think about it any more I'm going to cry harder... I swore to myself that I wouldn't cry that hard again for a long while. I would have to wrap my arms around my middle for fear that it would literally split. My body is reminding my with a ghost of that pain. Goodbye and goodnight.
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Organized Chaos
Just a brief view into my screwy world, I hope I don't scare you... too much...
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