If Dark Humor Disgusts You, You Might Want to Scroll on By...Sad Dog Story
Oh,friends, it's been another one of those crazy 2020 weeks. I don't really need any feedback. I know many of you are dog lovers, so don't read this if it's going to hurt too much.
I mostly need a safe place to vent.
Let me start by saying that I am extremely careful in my personal life to avoid drama, and I never, ever, take it to work. If only my coworkers would do the same...
Yes, I'm already looking for a new job. Because working with grown women who treat each other badly and then attempt to drag me into the fight make working conditions unacceptable. This week I've had to talk to 2 supervisors, and write a page and a half about what I saw and heard when one employee verbally abused another on Friday evening. Now the abuser is trying to be super nice to me, and I know that she knows that I gave my honest account of what happened. Let's just say that I am watching my back and am prepared for her to launch a counter complaint against me.
I had a fairly chaotic childhood and a bad marriage, and this drama is making me ill.
(Dark humor warning - what follows is a completely true and very sad account of my weekend with my family. We - my Mom and sister and I - have been planning this girls weekend for weeks. Staying at their place, eating favorite foods, watching Christmas movies in our pajamas...so, be warned.)
As planned, my mom and sister picked me and Sammy up on Saturday morning, and we went to their place in Cabool. Mind you, I was suffering from a sinus infection and my sister had a urinary tract infection, so we were already not having a great time.
Sammy has had random seizures almost since I got him in 2017 when his previous owner passed away. He's been on medication twice a day ever since, and it has mostly worked well. Medication doesn't always stop them, but it did help alleviate the worst of them.
Seizures, in and of themselves are not dangerous. Scary, but generally self limiting. I've sat up with Sammy many nights while he recovered from them.
And Sammy had had a GOOD DAY. He'd visited his friend, the retired Marine who lives around the corner and cannot have a pet of his own. Carey always had treats, and Saturday was no different. Then he got a 30 minute car ride and a chance to play with my sister's Cocker Spaniel. He got too excited, and I medicated him again, but he had a seizure (not unexpected), and was later resting by my side. (WARNING)
My dog died.
In my sister's living room.
While we were watching Christmas movies.
(I always thought that if I needed her help to deal with a body, it would be an ex-relative or 3.)
My Mom tried to console me by telling me every single sad dog story she's accumulated in her 81 years. That wasn't so helpful since many of my childhood dog traumas were related to her allowing boyfriends, husbands, or "friends" to haul off and dump my pets because they were too much trouble...
And I still do not have as much drama in my life as I've had to put up with at work this week!
This is Sammy's last photograph, taken about 3 hours before he had what I would call a massive stroke. It was very different from his usual seizure activity. In this photo, I cannot see any indication that he was ill.
That makes me happy.
My sister's boyfriend buried Sammy on his family's farm.
Today I'm packing up all this things. The cats seem not to miss him, and have already claimed his spot on the bed as their own.
I'm thankful that he only had 3 minutes of pain before he passed, and that I did not come home at the end of a 12 hour shift to find him. That would have haunted me.
If you are the praying kind, please keep me in your thoughts tomorrow. I have to go in for an hour for our department Christmas party and be civil to everyone. Even the woman who is probably plotting to metaphorically stab me in the back.