Where to begin
This entry will be long as i have had much on my mind and nowhere to let it out.
I am in Panama with my father, one of my best friends, my niece, and my nephew. I have been here about a week and it already feels as if I'm adapted to a new home. This is a second home to me in fact and although the same places are visited and the familiar faces are seen, I hope i will not tire of it and rather, become even more connected to my roots each time i come.
Lately i have been stressed which makes me even more stressed because I know it is nothing compared to what suffering others are going through right now. What do i know about hard times and hard work? But at least i know that i know nothing about it, and i hope that this keeps me grounded. In spite of the stress of summer school, bills, fending for myself (kinda, with a watchful and close wing/eyes of the mothership) i had been feeling the happiest i had been in a long time. Looking back now, i realized i was chronically depressed for two years. And after a slow process i found the happy filling i knew existed deep inside this life-donut. (My boyfriend makes fun that i relate and connect things to food a lot...) But anyway, along with this new found happiness comes time to be reflective and absorb sadness too.
I had to put my dog to sleep. I had been counting the years since i think she was first born at my house. I knew i would love her, and feared already that when her death came, i would be broken. I was seven and counting, "In 15 yrs, ill be in college..." and i'd shiver to think what would happen then, but her little clock was always ticking at the back of my mind. And it finally came. It was the most concentrated week of my life. First the stress of calculus finals and accounting, then the bills that were left to me without a second thought from the roomie. And the lack of money for the "big san fran trip" with my best friends. I almost did not go on the trip, because i knew it was the right and responsible thing to do. Sometimes you have to sacrifice and i finally understood my mother a little bit better. I ended up going, and having a really good time. And the second i got home, i remembered, "Accounting...danggittt" and i went over to pet my dog and give her affection. I had thought about her on the san fran trip and missed her. She looked excited to see me, and now when i think back, a little rumpled. Then she had the stroke that night, and my brother told me in the morning. I had slept 1 yard away from her all night, dead asleep, her pain unbeknownst to me. I replay that day in my head and regret going on the trip and not being able to spend those last days with her. But we never know, and we never will. We looked up the signs of a stroke. My brother read and a tiny flame of fear, dread, and prophecy lit up in my heart and i knew.
I was supposed to spend the day with Rodney, but instead i asked him to help me take her to the vet. Her eyes couldnt focus from the nerve damage. I figured she could smell me and i would talk to her and she would wag her tail. I cried in the vet's private room. I already knew, i knew i couldnt afford to give her surgery and i knew it wasn't certain she would make it.
That night my mother made me her stay outside since she could no longer stand on her own and she would have to relieve herself. I wanted her inside the house. I came home late and went to sit out with her. I saw her head turning with her wandering eyes trying to focus on nothing in the darkness, winding off into space and somewhere i could only guess. She looked lost and i cried just seeing her this way. I went outside to help her fall asleep because the only way she would is if i was there. Everytime id try to leave she'd whine, and i'd come back to pet her until she slept. She was almost like my child, my baby sister. I slept on the couch with the sliding glass door open. I felt better that it was open, somehow it made me feel like i was sleeping out there with her.
We bought her a Wendy's cheeseburger to eat as her last meal. She wasn't very hungry but she ate at least half. Then i took her in my car and when we got to the shelter. i sobbed. People around me stared and wondered what had happened. I had her wrapped in a blanket and they asked if my dog was sick. The animal shelter lady was nice, she gave me a paper to sign and told me she was sorry, genuinely. I guess she really could see how heartbroken i was. We drove around to the back where i man with a metal crate came to get her. I asked if i could be there and how it would happen. He said no, but that it was a peaceful injection. I slipped her in and she was afraid; she tried to pull herself out but i pushed her back in. I sobbed into her head, and i knew she knew. I'm glad Rodney was there with me, just he and I. It was the hardest moment of my life so far and I'm glad he was there. I love you Joanna and i miss you.
Here is a poem i wrote from our last dog, Joanna's mother.
...
They carried her off in a crate, my mom said
"You didnt get to see?" asked my dad
"No"
<3
it's so strange how much you can love something
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