Vets Shred Uniforms to Heal Themselves
15 years ago
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
A Good Dog Will Save Your Life
(I tried to post this on Alt...but after 7 attempts and it STILL sitting unpublished after more than twelve hours...well, fuck them)
Some days are harder than others...and today was a very hard day.
(trust me when I say I know Hard Days)
My old dog died.
My old dog who helped me though a hell of a lot of Hard Days.
==============================================================
She came into my life at a time when I had a lot of Sturm & Drang rocking my boat. She quite literally adopted me and attached herself to me. And I didn't mind a bit.
Any six week old dog that works as hard as she did to throw off her neglectful owners to come live with me deserves what she wants. I mean...a pup tiny enough to fit in the palm of my hand scales a fence, climbs a staircase and trundles throughout a house until she finds me and passes out exhausted next to my chair? Who the fuck am I to turn her away? That's determination and demands respect.
Many a night, when I pushed away sleep...she sat up with me and kept me level. Don't ever try and tell me dogs aren't intuitive and in tune with human emotions. I'll tell you to go shit in your hat. That dog provided a comforting presence...never asking for anything...just sitting there...peaceful, licking my hand...reminding me that the peace in a life interrupted by the violent and the tragic comes from the simple moments.
That's it, man. She gave me peace.
As we sat on our New Orleans porch and I sipped my beer and she crunched her ice cubes and the evening humidity enveloped us like velvet...she kept me grounded. At a time when I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to come all the way back home...that goddamned good dog gave me a peaceful focal point.
=================================================================
And now she's gone. 13 and a half years is s good run for a dog. I'd prefer they have 20 or more years...but that's above my pay grade.
She'd been sick off and on for over a month. And overnight it got bad. I had her in the car...driving to the vet...her laying in the passenger seat...me driving one-handed...my other hand on her chest monitoring her vitals...
...when she passed. I felt her heart flutter...and stop. She gave a final sigh, put her head down and that was that. I pulled over three blocks from the vet's office and closed her eyes and wrapped her blanket a little more tightly around her. Then I continued on.
=================================================================
That's all you can do...suck it up, ruck up, move out.
But I still feel like a mooring line has been broken.
(I tried to post this on Alt...but after 7 attempts and it STILL sitting unpublished after more than twelve hours...well, fuck them)
Some days are harder than others...and today was a very hard day.
(trust me when I say I know Hard Days)
My old dog died.
My old dog who helped me though a hell of a lot of Hard Days.
==============================================================
She came into my life at a time when I had a lot of Sturm & Drang rocking my boat. She quite literally adopted me and attached herself to me. And I didn't mind a bit.
Any six week old dog that works as hard as she did to throw off her neglectful owners to come live with me deserves what she wants. I mean...a pup tiny enough to fit in the palm of my hand scales a fence, climbs a staircase and trundles throughout a house until she finds me and passes out exhausted next to my chair? Who the fuck am I to turn her away? That's determination and demands respect.
Many a night, when I pushed away sleep...she sat up with me and kept me level. Don't ever try and tell me dogs aren't intuitive and in tune with human emotions. I'll tell you to go shit in your hat. That dog provided a comforting presence...never asking for anything...just sitting there...peaceful, licking my hand...reminding me that the peace in a life interrupted by the violent and the tragic comes from the simple moments.
That's it, man. She gave me peace.
As we sat on our New Orleans porch and I sipped my beer and she crunched her ice cubes and the evening humidity enveloped us like velvet...she kept me grounded. At a time when I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to come all the way back home...that goddamned good dog gave me a peaceful focal point.
=================================================================
And now she's gone. 13 and a half years is s good run for a dog. I'd prefer they have 20 or more years...but that's above my pay grade.
She'd been sick off and on for over a month. And overnight it got bad. I had her in the car...driving to the vet...her laying in the passenger seat...me driving one-handed...my other hand on her chest monitoring her vitals...
...when she passed. I felt her heart flutter...and stop. She gave a final sigh, put her head down and that was that. I pulled over three blocks from the vet's office and closed her eyes and wrapped her blanket a little more tightly around her. Then I continued on.
=================================================================
That's all you can do...suck it up, ruck up, move out.
But I still feel like a mooring line has been broken.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
