Monday, January 23, 2006
that today is the most depressing day of the year.
Sounds about right.
My dad and I had to take our oldest dog (she was 16--my dad has another one, he's 2) to be...put down or whatever the fuck you're supposed to call it. Lord. I don't even know how to type it or say it. I can't say it. My dad couldn't say it either when we went to the Humane Society.
That's where they do it, humanely (we couldn't get over what an actually great word that was) for $40. They were wonderful about it. Kind, empathetic and sweet but not saccharine.
We know we had to do it. She was 16 and she was blind and she was deaf and we know she was in pain.
But it still was really, really difficult to go and do.
And we cried a whole fucking lot. It's hard to let go, sometimes, innit? Damn.
And, yes, she was just a dog. And I didn't live at home, with her, anymore. But I got her when I was 8 years old and in the third grade. And she was there when I got home from having my first kiss (she was the first one to know about it). She was there for me when my friend, who was 18, died of cancer. She was there, with my dad in the car, waiting to pick me up, every last day of school *all* the way up to the high school years. She was there when I cried, or I was angry or upset and she always, always cheered me up--without even trying. She showered me with unconditional love every day and I know that it made me grow into a better person, just having her and caring for her.
And now she's dead and I don't want to talk about it with anyone. It is extremely rare that I don't share something this significant in my emotional world with my friends. But this is one of those occasions.
Just, somehow, I needed to write about it and tell you all (whoever really reads this thing) about it. Which, is kind of weird, considering I really never wanted to have my blog writing be this personal at all... But I needed to this time.
So. Thanks for taking it.
On a lighter note: I'm listening to Irving Berlin songs ("Cheek to Cheek," "Heatwave," "Blue Skys," etc.) right now and I can't get over how amazing he was. He is doing a great job of cheering me up right now. Thanks, Israel, you're incredible--even if you did write "God Bless America" (cheers for the antidote, Mr. Guthrie) I forgive you.
(um, did you notice that I am actually using *links* now? wow, aboutfuckingtime, right? heh)