Well, I did it. I went public. And I'm still alive. I don't even know how to feel about it. Still a little scared. Oh well. I have endured and survived bigger things. Just have to learn to jump those hurdles at a racing speed rather than crawl over them.
Had lunch today with the girls and read yesterday's blog to them since both of them were just too busy to take time out to read it. Now they want it READ TO THEM every day. Damn girls. You just can't do anything with them because they keep wanting more and more and more. They're never satisfied. Bitches.
It's funny how, over the course of a day, I can randomly come up with at least twenty different subjects to blog about but when I sit down to do it, I struggle with what I want to say. I hope that passes too. I have a little notebook in my purse. Why would I write any notes down? That would be WAY too easy and besides, the last time I did that, I went on a rant about every other criminal in the good ole United States of America.
I was telling the girls today about how, when I got this new phone, I somehow lost the sound bite aka voice note that had me and my puppy talking to each other. I'm sure a lot of people get tired of hearing how people grieve their animals and I'm not saying that I haven't ever thought the same thing. "Shut the hell up. I'm tired of hearing about it. It was a PET for gods sake. Get over it and move on."
Growing up, we weren't allowed to have pets because we lived in a home provided by the county. Every birthday I wanted a dog or a cat. Every Christmas I wanted a dog or a cat. Hell, I asked for a dog or cat for my brothers and sisters birthdays too. Always the same answer. "No, we can't." I hated that. I couldn't even have a fish. I bet if I would've went and appealed to the county Supervisors at age 5, I could've had a pet of SOME kind.
Who would dare resist the charms of a little girl, dressed in a swimsuit from summer till spring and a different pair of size10 high heels every day (borrowed from the neighborhood center aka local goodwill) who JUST HAPPENED to have her own office in the basement (janitor's room actually) of the county courthouse and offered each and every employee, insurance, each and every day. Who would dare resist? I was out of the loop. That's what I get for striving to be a successful businesswoman at such an early age. Nobody TOLD me that ALL I had to do was go to the supervisors. Bastards.
Once, one of the brothers, don't remember which, brought home a hamster. In a cage. It was for a school project. I remember it set on top of the dresser in the bedroom. My mom hated that thing. Looked too much like a mouse I suppose. I loved it though. To this day, I remember what that little thing looked like. I wanted to hold it so bad and nobody would ever let me. One day I was in there talking to it and told it that I thought it was unfair it had to be kept in a cage. I lifted up the little lever and told it that all it had to do to get out was stick its paw out and lift it just like I did and the little door would swing open. THEN it could get out and roam around while everyone was asleep or whatever. I told it to MAKE SURE it got back inside the cage before anybody saw him though or he would probably be in big trouble and have to leave.
Now that I think back, I really needed more friends! I truly remember having this conversation with this damned hamster!! Poor little sonuvabitch. I also thought that since the kid on the Brady Bunch hid theirs in the hamper, that I could do that too, if it needed hid.
That night the fucking hamster disappeared. I shit you not. My mom was LIVID! Of course she blamed me for opening the door and told me that she heard me telling it how to get out. Oh yeah, I'm pretty sure I got a spanking for that! I hope that little fucker ran until it's legs felt like falling off and found freedom.
So anyway, when I became an adult and went out on my own, I always had an animal of some sort. I used to just adore cats. Hell, I still adore them. Somehow when I turned 30, I developed a bad allergy to them and want to scratch my eyeballs right out of my head. I'm sure some of you can sympathize. And for those of you that can't, I don't recommend scratching your eyeballs out. It hurts like a mo fo!!
I love dogs. Well the ones I'm not scared of anyway. Yes, I'm scared of some dogs. Depends on their disposition I guess. I try to make friends with as many as I encounter. I remember a family when I was growing up that had a damned weiner dog named Toby. I'm not even going to TRY to change that little bastards name. To this day, I would be afraid of that dog if it were still alive. At least I think it's dead. If it's alive, it's an old fucking dog. Anyway, I rode my bike by this house nearly everyday. Either to go to the swimming pool or to go visit friends. That damn dog would chase me from their front yard, around the corner and to the end of their property.
Doesn't sound like too far, does it. Some days their yard felt like it was as big as the courtyard. My poor legs would peddle as fast as they could and I would start sweating; almost crying. That damned dog, I swear! Probably gave me nightmares too. Well one day I wasn't paying attention and was going home from the pool and had my feet dangling down the sides of my bike, watching the intersection that I was approaching and I'll be damned if that little fucking weiner dog didn't bite my fucking ankle! I SHIT YOU NOT!
Almost wrecked my damn bike right at the stop sign. I dropped my bike though and took off running. Hahaha I can just imagine what people thought. I ran across the street to the gas station, crying telling them I needed my dad; that I was hurt and REALLY needed my dad. I wanted those people arrested to be honest. They sat me down and washed the blood off my ankle and called my dad. I got a pop while I waited.
The VERY NEXT DAY, that little dickhead Toby did the same thing. Now, in my own defense, I was paying attention. I was scanning the yard. I wasn't going to let him win. I was going to kick him. That was the plan. I couldn't wait. He must've had Harry Potter's invisibility cloak because one minute he wasnt there and the next minute, he was biting THE SAME FREAKING ANKLE!! Seriously!! Psycho dog!!
I took alternate routes home from then on. Ha, I had totally forgotten about that dog until tonight. I'll probably have nightmares tonight again.
Gee and I have three dogs, as I've mentioned in earlier blogs. Well, one week we had a visitor. My sister's granddog came to stay with us. That little peckerhead (and I say that with all the love in my heart) humped everything he could get to. And that's not much considering he TOO is a weiner. Toy weiner at that. Well he got to my female beaner at some point and we had pups. She had only three luckily and we found homes for two of them.
That stuck us with a little guy we named Bear. Some of you probably even met Bear. Furry little guy that we immediately fell in love with.
Smart pup too. He had potty training down to a science by the time his brother and sister went to their new homes. He knew when we said it was "time for bed," that he was to get in his kennel. That didn't last long though. Soon he was sleeping in our bed and I bitched about it. I hated the fact that he would lay right up next to me. Snuggle in at the small of my back or in the bend of my knees. Either way, he always laid where I could reach my hand back behind me and feel him. I was always so afraid I would squish him.
Bear went places with us. He didn't eat people food and he loved to run and play. We took him to visit his brother and sister a couple of times and everybody loved him. He even camped with us for our family reunion. I remember one night when I came home from work and I knew he and Gee were sitting inside the house. I just sat there in the car with a smile on my face thinking "wow, I have a wonderful husband, a great job and the best puppy in the world. This is a great life."
Bear wasn't my only dog I've had in my adult life though. I've had Spike. I've had Czyckowski. Matilda and I had Snickers. The worthless one and I had Lucy. I have always ended up having to get rid of these dogs for one reason or another. Well Snickers just disappeared. I'm pretty sure some animal ate that puppy for a snack. At least we didn't have time to get attached to it before it was gone.
Bear and I bonded big time. We would lay on the floor and I would howl and he would howl. Then I started to howl the words "I love you." He mimicked me one day and I couldn't believe it. So that became our thing. We would howl about three times and then we would say I love you. It was an amazing and beautiful thing. Every time I would try to videotape or record him though, he wouldn't do it. I tried and tried and could never get it recorded. One night we were all laying on the floor and I got him to do it while my phone was hidden. I had it! I was so happy.
One morning I let Bear out to go potty and told him we were going to take some tools to Daddy so come back to the house when he was done. I truly believe he knew everything I told him. I let him out the back door with the other dogs and about ten minutes later I went and yelled for him and he didn't come. The other dogs just looked at me. They didn't bark. They didn't turn their heads any certain direction. They just looked at me. I yelled and yelled and he never came. I went back in the house and started out the front door when I saw him. He was laying down in the road. My first thought was "what is he DOING laying there??"
You know in the movies when something traumatic happens and everything around the person turns to a blur and the subject of their trauma suddenly just moved about two miles ahead of them instead of being close? And nothing they can do can make them move closer to what they need to be with? That's exactly how it happened. I took one step on my porch when I realized exactly WHY Bear was laying in the street.
I was paralyzed. I couldn't reach for the doorknob. I couldn't move my feet. Bear was so far away but yet he was just in the street. I couldn't get to him. Suddenly I couldn't breathe. I could feel the panic; the hyperventilating was starting. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I had NEVER experienced anything like this before and was clueless.
I have had many people die in my life and I have gotten through it but there are less than a handful of things that have affected me this way. Paralyzation by fear is an awful awful thing for anybody to have to go through. Thank God I had my phone in my pocket. I called Gee. Nothing. No answer. I called again. No answer. What the fuck?? I JUST talked to him a few minutes ago!! I called again. No fucking answer! Are you kidding me? Then I realized something else. I had to get this baby boy out of the street before someone else came along and I HAD no choice but to witness him getting run over a second time.
I called Grandma and she couldn't even understand what I was saying. I don't know if I even knew what I was saying. She put Bear in a box and closed it and brought him to me. She left me. I just laid the box down on the floor and sat on a diningroom chair and cried. And cried. And cried. For hours. When Gee got home, Grandma had already told him, he just paced for a while. I don't think he knew what to do either. He went to the basement and fixed a nicer box for Bear and put his blanket and toy in it and then placed Bear in it.
We went out into the front flower garden and we dug. And we dug. And we dug. We cried the whole time. People were taking walks and coming by and of course, didn't say a word. What would you say? What could you say? It was obvious what we were doing. Bear was placed in the ground and I kept telling him how sorry I was that I didn't watch him more closely. To this day I find myself missing him with every breath and apologizing each and every day.
I miss my little guy and I know no matter what, I can never have that back again. That special bond that we shared. That special love. Thinking about him makes me sob.
The part that hurts the worst is that whoever hit my dog; my friend; my baby..... they never came and told me they were sorry. Hell they never even came and told me they hit him. How do people do that? Maybe they didn't know they did it? I don't know. What I do know is that I could never hit someone's pet and NOT tell them; not apologize; not be sympathetic; not feel like a real piece of shit.
Sometimes it scares the hell out of me to think that I get too close to people..... animals..... anyone that I love so much. I am scared that I am loving them to death but I guess in a sense we are all loving each other to death, aren't we? I wish it didn't have to hurt so bad.
So this story just kinda spilled out and I wasn't intending on it. Only a few people know how Bear and his death affected me. How it put me on the couch for two days straight. How it made me cry in public. I couldn't sleep in my bed for so long and then when I could, I kept waking up in the night, reaching for him and then I'd start crying all over again. And if trying to deal with this loss every day isn't bad enough, I have lost the sound bite on my SD card. Makes me sick.
~R.I.P. Bear "Buppy" Schultz ~ March 16, 2011 - September 7th, 2011~
"You took our hearts on a journey that we will not soon forget. I love you."
Thanks for sticking with me through that. Through the tears. Through the pain. I'll see what I can do about keeping the next one light. -_- Have an awesome night friends.
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