(no subject)
I lost a really close friend this week. I lost my dog, Cleo, whom I loved very much. I can't express how broken my heart is right now.
It was Tuesday evening and I was sitting on the couch watching TV at my cottage. Cleo was laying at my feet panting heavily as if she had been running for a long time. She was panting because we kept a nice toasty fire going in the cabin all the time and, well, you all know how much fur she has. I didn't want her to overheat so I let her out like we usually do. When we let her out she goes off for a few hours and explores. We let her do this because, the thing is, is always came back. So I thought nothing of it and went back to watching TV. I went over to Rose and & Ivans camp with my dad and my brother for a while and came back around 9 because that's Hunter's bedtime. Cleo still wasn't back. She should've been back by then. My dad assured me that sometime she'd come back really late, it was nothing to worry about and we couldn't do anything anyway because it was dark out. But I knew. I knew that if she didn't come back that night, we'd never find her.
I spent the evening walking around the cabin anxiously, checking the back steps every 5 minutes or so where she would lay down usually and wait to be let in. It was 11 and still no sign. My dad went to bed and told me to turn everything off when I was done watching TV. I did so, but I couldn't sleep. I got maybe an hour's worth or so, the rest of the time I spent sitting on the couch staring outside at the frozen, moonlit lake, straining my eyes for any sign that might be Cleo. My dad got up around midnight because he couldn't sleep too. He went out with his snowshoes and walked along the shore where Cleo's tracks were. Johnny's dogs were barking ans my dad called out to Cleo. He paused for a moment. Out along the treeline a little animal emerged from the forest, moving towards his voice. She was on the other side and the ice was bad so my dad had to quickly get back to the camp, hop on the ski-doo and race around the lake to get to Cleo. When he got there he called out to her again, but she didn't come.
As soon as it was light enough for us to see clearly outside, my dad and I started the search. We went everywhere with the ski-doos and we had the snow shoe's too and searching where there weren't any paths. I called and called. She didn't come. We told everyone in the area to keep a look out for her. Our only hope, really, was to get a call from someone saying they'd picked her up. But that call never came and neither did Cleo. I cried a lot that day. I couldn't eat and I just wanted to go home. Sitting around waiting for her, knowing that if she hadn't come by now, then she wasn't coming at all, was no comfort at all. The only thing I could do was get my mind off of her by watching TV. Hunter walked around the house saying, "I'm sad." with no emotion was so ever. It made me so mad. He couldn't care less that she was gone while my heart was being torn apart. That night the only dreams I had were ones where I woke up and found Cleo sitting on those steps. I tried to hold on to those dreams, hoping to make them real.
But when I woke they weren't real. It was early and again, I sat on the couch and starred out the window. My dad got up too and sat at the other end. He murmered to himself, "It must've been her...maybe I shouldn't have called her..." I cried for the millionth time. I thought I'd never stop crying. I told him not to bother because you can't turn back time anyway. We came to the conclusion that when he called her she must have tried to come across the ice again. It was bad ice so she must've fallen in. If she were out there, she would've come home. She always came home. I'll always be waiting for her to come home.
So when everyone else got up we packed up the sleighs and got ready to go home. I cried some more. My dad called Hunter and I over and we stared out at the lake together. It was no longer the frozen beauty I had always thought it was. Now all I could see was a horrible white mass with treacherous black waters beneath. My dad told Hunter what we're sure happened to Cleo and then he broke down and cried. Up until that point my dad had shown no sign of deep sorrow and I had never seen him cry before. Instantly I started up again and all I could do was embrace my dad and bury my face in his chest. All Hunter did was stare at us blankly and tell my dad to stop making me cry. He said he couldn't help it. I didn't care, I was glad to know that someone else was just as crushed as I was over the loss of our beloved dog. My dad cried and said, "She was a good dog. We'll never have another one like her. We had a good dog."
I cried on and off during the ride home. I still can't stop thinking of her and everything reminds me of her. Reading my ISU book distracted me from the pain and I calmed down. When I got home it started up again. Her stuff is everywhere. Her toys, everything. I took one look into my room and I couldn't go any farther. She slept in that crate every night. Never again. I can't stand it. She was everything to me. I never got a chance to say goodbye and now I'll never see her again. It's not like she was old either. She only been with my family for a few years, but we all loved her very much and she was a good dog. Nothing will ever replace her and she'll always be in my heart and my memories. I'll miss the weird noises she made when you petted her a certain way. I'll miss the way she'd show she missed me by burying her head into my stomach. When she did this she reminded me of an osterach burying it's head into a hole. I'll miss her perky little walk and the way she tried to herd balls like they were sheep. I'll always miss her. Yeah, it was an accident and these things happen, I'll get over it. But right now I just can't get over the fact that I'll never see my little princess ever again. I would give anything and everything to have one more day with her. I will never forget her.
You probably think I'm being over dramatic, but I really loved her. I don't know how other people feel about their dogs, but that's how I felt about mine. In my mind, she was the cutest dog in the world, and there will never be one cuter. She was a good dog. I can't emphasize that enough. I guess there's not much else I can put into words. I'm really heart broken right now, but don't be afraid to talk to me. I'd really like to get out and do something because I really need to get my mind off of this. Shittiest March Break ever...
It was Tuesday evening and I was sitting on the couch watching TV at my cottage. Cleo was laying at my feet panting heavily as if she had been running for a long time. She was panting because we kept a nice toasty fire going in the cabin all the time and, well, you all know how much fur she has. I didn't want her to overheat so I let her out like we usually do. When we let her out she goes off for a few hours and explores. We let her do this because, the thing is, is always came back. So I thought nothing of it and went back to watching TV. I went over to Rose and & Ivans camp with my dad and my brother for a while and came back around 9 because that's Hunter's bedtime. Cleo still wasn't back. She should've been back by then. My dad assured me that sometime she'd come back really late, it was nothing to worry about and we couldn't do anything anyway because it was dark out. But I knew. I knew that if she didn't come back that night, we'd never find her.
I spent the evening walking around the cabin anxiously, checking the back steps every 5 minutes or so where she would lay down usually and wait to be let in. It was 11 and still no sign. My dad went to bed and told me to turn everything off when I was done watching TV. I did so, but I couldn't sleep. I got maybe an hour's worth or so, the rest of the time I spent sitting on the couch staring outside at the frozen, moonlit lake, straining my eyes for any sign that might be Cleo. My dad got up around midnight because he couldn't sleep too. He went out with his snowshoes and walked along the shore where Cleo's tracks were. Johnny's dogs were barking ans my dad called out to Cleo. He paused for a moment. Out along the treeline a little animal emerged from the forest, moving towards his voice. She was on the other side and the ice was bad so my dad had to quickly get back to the camp, hop on the ski-doo and race around the lake to get to Cleo. When he got there he called out to her again, but she didn't come.
As soon as it was light enough for us to see clearly outside, my dad and I started the search. We went everywhere with the ski-doos and we had the snow shoe's too and searching where there weren't any paths. I called and called. She didn't come. We told everyone in the area to keep a look out for her. Our only hope, really, was to get a call from someone saying they'd picked her up. But that call never came and neither did Cleo. I cried a lot that day. I couldn't eat and I just wanted to go home. Sitting around waiting for her, knowing that if she hadn't come by now, then she wasn't coming at all, was no comfort at all. The only thing I could do was get my mind off of her by watching TV. Hunter walked around the house saying, "I'm sad." with no emotion was so ever. It made me so mad. He couldn't care less that she was gone while my heart was being torn apart. That night the only dreams I had were ones where I woke up and found Cleo sitting on those steps. I tried to hold on to those dreams, hoping to make them real.
But when I woke they weren't real. It was early and again, I sat on the couch and starred out the window. My dad got up too and sat at the other end. He murmered to himself, "It must've been her...maybe I shouldn't have called her..." I cried for the millionth time. I thought I'd never stop crying. I told him not to bother because you can't turn back time anyway. We came to the conclusion that when he called her she must have tried to come across the ice again. It was bad ice so she must've fallen in. If she were out there, she would've come home. She always came home. I'll always be waiting for her to come home.
So when everyone else got up we packed up the sleighs and got ready to go home. I cried some more. My dad called Hunter and I over and we stared out at the lake together. It was no longer the frozen beauty I had always thought it was. Now all I could see was a horrible white mass with treacherous black waters beneath. My dad told Hunter what we're sure happened to Cleo and then he broke down and cried. Up until that point my dad had shown no sign of deep sorrow and I had never seen him cry before. Instantly I started up again and all I could do was embrace my dad and bury my face in his chest. All Hunter did was stare at us blankly and tell my dad to stop making me cry. He said he couldn't help it. I didn't care, I was glad to know that someone else was just as crushed as I was over the loss of our beloved dog. My dad cried and said, "She was a good dog. We'll never have another one like her. We had a good dog."
I cried on and off during the ride home. I still can't stop thinking of her and everything reminds me of her. Reading my ISU book distracted me from the pain and I calmed down. When I got home it started up again. Her stuff is everywhere. Her toys, everything. I took one look into my room and I couldn't go any farther. She slept in that crate every night. Never again. I can't stand it. She was everything to me. I never got a chance to say goodbye and now I'll never see her again. It's not like she was old either. She only been with my family for a few years, but we all loved her very much and she was a good dog. Nothing will ever replace her and she'll always be in my heart and my memories. I'll miss the weird noises she made when you petted her a certain way. I'll miss the way she'd show she missed me by burying her head into my stomach. When she did this she reminded me of an osterach burying it's head into a hole. I'll miss her perky little walk and the way she tried to herd balls like they were sheep. I'll always miss her. Yeah, it was an accident and these things happen, I'll get over it. But right now I just can't get over the fact that I'll never see my little princess ever again. I would give anything and everything to have one more day with her. I will never forget her.
You probably think I'm being over dramatic, but I really loved her. I don't know how other people feel about their dogs, but that's how I felt about mine. In my mind, she was the cutest dog in the world, and there will never be one cuter. She was a good dog. I can't emphasize that enough. I guess there's not much else I can put into words. I'm really heart broken right now, but don't be afraid to talk to me. I'd really like to get out and do something because I really need to get my mind off of this. Shittiest March Break ever...