3 weeks

Dear Lady,

It's been 3 weeks without you. The last time I ever took you for a walk, a mysterious bump appeared on my left hand. I thought it was a mosquito bite but it grew into something larger and wart-like. This never happened before. I believe in sychronicity. I got it treated with liquid nitrogen at the Dr's and now it's nearly disappeared. But I still see it and every time I look at it, it reminds me that I was walking you about a month and a half ago. Time is speeding away, but this wart links me to that one day in the past, and makes remember that it was real.

I still cry randomly several times a day, even when doing fun stuff like playing LBP. I've been depressed this month. Feel really, really sad and don't want to do anything productive except play videogame, eat icecream, sleep. Taking a shower and eating = such a chore. Don't want to go to work or organize my room. I think I'm sadder than most normal ppl would be. Sometimes I cry so hard I want to puke. I wish I was dead because if dead means non-existence, at least we could both be non-existent and in being in the same state I'd feel closer to you.

Life and death and everything in between seems so numb and insignificant and pointless. I find myself easily frustrated and angry at everyone I love.. family, boyfriend, friends. I feel like lashing out at ppl and things. I can laugh as I play a video game and tears are still dripping out of my eyes as I laugh.

As I drive down the street I picture your face in the vet's and feel so depressed I want to hit oncoming traffic. I picture your face and relive the last day of your life over and over in my mind.

Fleeting Memories..

She had a little missing patch of fur on her upper leg, from lying on one preferred side

She loved being scratched behind her ears or in her armpits, and pet anywhere for that matter

She let me clip her nails but never let me brush her teeth. EVER.

Her jingling dog tag let me know when she was around.

Sometimes when her mouth was closed you could still poke her front teeth

I once tried this 'dog calming massage' on her that included gently pulling tail. She didn't mind it!

She would race up and down the fence barking if another dog walked by, and was super territorial.

More thoughts on death..

Life is so lonely when someone you love most dies. Every other person or animal seems more like a robot, an unfit supplement, because they will never fill that same place.

I'm only 26 but I feel like I'm 86, just waiting for death to claim me. Life suddenly seems so long. And I wonder how real old people keep living when their loved ones are all gone. Do they find solace in others? The loneliness they have must be unbearable.

Life doesn't seem as precious as it once was, not when I'm so curious, so eager to get to the other side, because of that 1% chance that you, and the others that I loved, who died, may be there.

Today I want to remember.. that little bite on your nose that Beethovan gave you. The scar never did disappear. How I'd brush you and you'd enjoy it for a few seconds, but then get restless and keep trying to sneak away while I held your white legs.

Then when you finally got away you'd prance around and relish the freedom and sometimes it would be hard to get you back. Since it took an hour to brush you, I learned to give you a few breaks every so often.

You liked just lying on your side while being brushed, best. Because it required no effort. Silly lazy puppy. Then I'd have to flip you to the other side. Sometimes when I brushed your tummy your back leg would start shaking. I think its a nerve that all dogs have.

I won't forget how you shrieked so earnestly when Beethovan got to run outside and you didn't. You had a really piercing, incessant cry and you'd put your whole body into it. While Beethovan would just do this yawning cry.

dear lady #2

dear lady

why don't i just continue writing you as long as i can? first i had the macabre dream about your death. the next nite i also dreamed you died, but in a nicer way, on a beach. i had been collecting seashells. it was sort of a contest organized by some resort or something. here on the west coast. 'who can find the smallest seashell?' an older couple were near me, and they had collected a whole pile.

the interesting thing though, was that the seashells were more like polished ceramic coasters, square with rounded corners, and they had pictures of seashells imprinted on them. they were delicate and pretty. even though i couldn't find the smallest one, i thought 'hey, it was worth looking here, because these other ones are so pretty and i want to take them home with me.'

then you came up to me, walking slowly, padding over the sharp shells and stones. i hugged you and you relaxed. i held you and you decided the time was right, so you took a deep breath and died.

i suppose if there was a way for you to die that was better than at the vets, that would be it. it was a nice dream.

then on the 3rd nite, last nite, i dreamt that mom wreaked havoc and embarassed me in front of my clients but that's kind of irrelevant. but also nice that i didn't dream about your death for a 3rd nite.

i miss you doggy. woof!

Dear Lady

Dear Lady,

I had a macabre dream about you this morning before I woke up. I dreamt that instead of cremating you, we sent you to a butcher to skin you and chop up your body. It had something to do with a post-mortem autopsy and trying to find out if it was cancer or whatever else that was ailing you.

I took your remains home in a plastic shopping bag, all your severed limbs, and your head sticking out the top of the bag. As we walked down the sidewalk, I pet your head and you still looked as cute as ever to me, even though I knew you were dead.

Then mom said 'don't worry, her soul is following us.' I looked behind and there was another dog that looked just like you, following. It sniffed an open door we passed, and an expression crossed its face that looked just like one of yours. I forget exactly which expression it was now.

But when your 'soul' version came closer I saw it wasn't really you. It was another dog, with slightly darker fur. Then I looked at your head in the bag and you seemed to come alive a bit. Your eyes opened a little. I pet your head more. And then I could see your mouth was drooping and weird and I knew you were still dead.

But maybe if I kept petting you, you'd come alive again?

It was kind of a lucid dream, I guess, because it was disturbing, but not in the 'blood and guts' manner it would seem. Just disturbing more in a 'My mind is still having trouble coming to terms with the permanency of it all' type thing.

Watching CSI the night before probably helped too. But I also am confused and uncertain about the whole 'body-brain-soul' thing, and knowing what part exists, and what part is gone, and how can your body just disappear and turn into ashes overnight, when your soul was so vivid and alive still?

I'm confounded.

...

It's Nov 3. It's been a week and 2 days since Lady died. I still stare at her pic every day. Every person and animal I look at in a different away now. As if they are vapor. Because there is no grey area between life and death.. either you're alive or you're dead, very dead. Even sick weak terminally ill people or animals are very alive, because they have their soul.

Today I looked at Lady's coat and remembered how the fur in each area felt. Some areas smooth, some fuzzier, some, like around her nose, hard, with bone under. The white part of her chest so silky, and coming to form a perfect "V" in the middle. Her smooth legs, and how the area between the tendons in her back leg always felt so thin, just skin and fur.

I think her nose used to be more wet as a younger dog but it was dry in her adult life.

Losing Lady has made me focus on family thoughts more, and how much I hate mom. How mean she was to me the day Lady died. How she glared at me in the morning when I woke up, but could be heard chatting cheerfully with Sera minutes later. She loves someone she met two times more than me. If Sera hadn't been there she would have gone apeshit on me, and spoiled the last memory with Lady. I hate her more than I've ever hated her, or at least now that Lady's gone, I'm more free to acknowledge it. Every single thing she's ever done to me has been circulating my mind the past few days and I'm debating whether or not to spill it to Dad.. I don't know if it would be worth it.. but I don't want to go back to Delta now that Lady's gone.