(no subject)
i always feel kind of bad for not posting in this thing since i still check my friends page daily and get to read everyone else's posts but contribute nothing back and since twitter is really obnoxious and not really a good way to communicate with people, i figure i should at least make an effort to contribute *something* to anyone who might have me on their friends list.
only problem is that i'm fairly boring. i work at a job that i hate, don't really do too much that's noteworthy, and am generally misanthropic so i don't even have neat second hand stories of cool shit my friends might have done.
the one thing that has happened to me recently was a real bummer. i had this magnificent beast of a german sheppard named Wally for about 10 years. he was one of the sweetest and most noble of beasts that i've ever encountered. he was a second hand dog, i acquired him when a teacher of mine was trying to get rid of him because she was moving into a smaller house and didn't have room for this enormous, pony sized dog. so naturally i thought it would be a good idea to take in a dog that was taller than my 5'4" sister when he stood on his hind legs and put his front legs on her shoulders.
by my estimate, wally was about 13 years old and the shitty thing with big dogs and especially german shepards is that their joints wear out. poor ol' wally was arthritic, with hip dysplasia to boot. everyone kept telling me that it was time to put him down but i refused because other than his noticeable limp, he was still his happy, tummy rub demanding self. i figured he'd give me a sign when he was ready to go and about a month ago, he started peeing on the patio, and since he's always been an exceptionally clean dog i figured that was the sign.
so on a friday night before i lost my nerve, i called D up for some help, loaded wally into the car and took him for his final car ride. there's an emergency clinic near my house that will do that sort of thing 24 hours a day so off we went. this was one of the shittiest things i've ever had to do. on the one hand, it was time. he was hurting and i didn't want him to have a shitty quality of life. on the other hand, i felt like i was killing my buddy. but i sucked it up and was there for the whole thing, rubbing his tummy until he was gone. now i'm not an overly emotional type of person, but i have no problem admitting that i cried like a little girl when the vet simply stated that he was gone. fuck, it was over so quick that i was a little taken aback by the whole thing. but i'd like to think i did right by the old man and that he's at least no longer in pain.
about a week after, i got this weird envelope in the mail. inside was this huge tile with wally's paw print in it. the people at the vet's office had sent me a final memento of my fuzzy old man.
only problem is that i'm fairly boring. i work at a job that i hate, don't really do too much that's noteworthy, and am generally misanthropic so i don't even have neat second hand stories of cool shit my friends might have done.
the one thing that has happened to me recently was a real bummer. i had this magnificent beast of a german sheppard named Wally for about 10 years. he was one of the sweetest and most noble of beasts that i've ever encountered. he was a second hand dog, i acquired him when a teacher of mine was trying to get rid of him because she was moving into a smaller house and didn't have room for this enormous, pony sized dog. so naturally i thought it would be a good idea to take in a dog that was taller than my 5'4" sister when he stood on his hind legs and put his front legs on her shoulders.
by my estimate, wally was about 13 years old and the shitty thing with big dogs and especially german shepards is that their joints wear out. poor ol' wally was arthritic, with hip dysplasia to boot. everyone kept telling me that it was time to put him down but i refused because other than his noticeable limp, he was still his happy, tummy rub demanding self. i figured he'd give me a sign when he was ready to go and about a month ago, he started peeing on the patio, and since he's always been an exceptionally clean dog i figured that was the sign.
so on a friday night before i lost my nerve, i called D up for some help, loaded wally into the car and took him for his final car ride. there's an emergency clinic near my house that will do that sort of thing 24 hours a day so off we went. this was one of the shittiest things i've ever had to do. on the one hand, it was time. he was hurting and i didn't want him to have a shitty quality of life. on the other hand, i felt like i was killing my buddy. but i sucked it up and was there for the whole thing, rubbing his tummy until he was gone. now i'm not an overly emotional type of person, but i have no problem admitting that i cried like a little girl when the vet simply stated that he was gone. fuck, it was over so quick that i was a little taken aback by the whole thing. but i'd like to think i did right by the old man and that he's at least no longer in pain.
about a week after, i got this weird envelope in the mail. inside was this huge tile with wally's paw print in it. the people at the vet's office had sent me a final memento of my fuzzy old man.