Baba
I know it's probably been a long time since I've wrote in here. I don't exactly remember what I wrote last.... So I'll start with what I know.
On August 31rst I took the truck to work, which meant I had to go home for lunch so Tristan could have it for work. We went to Panda and we still had time left before I had to get back from lunch. I suggested we go to PetsMart to look at fish tank filters so we could get a new one for our tank. We looked at them and they were to expensive, so we browsed around. We wondered over to the dog department and I had remembered it was Pocket's 7 Month birthday. I got all happy and said that we should get him a new cat-ball toy, because the one he'd had since we brought him home was all in shreds, Tristan said ok. We also got him these cute little pink ping-pong balls, he loved the way they sounded on his nails. So, I thought that would be a good idea. Tristan wanted to get all of the other dogs so chewys. I said ok, cuz I didn't think that it was fair that only Pocket got something, even though it was his birthday.
Well I had to get back to work, so I kissed Tristan good-bye, and he went home. It had been a long day at work and I couldn't wait to sit down for my last break. I noticed that I had a voice mail on my phone. So I called my answering machine. All I heard was, "Pocket, Emergency Room, Across the street, Critical Condition.", I was like, "W.T.F.?!?!?!? Did I just hear what I thought I heard?!?" I had to re-play it, and sure enough it said what I didn't want to hear again, "Mishia, I'm across the street. Pocket's in critical condition in the emergency room. You need to come here." I just started balling. I found my manager, told him what was going on, and I left. I got across the street, to find out that Tristan dog - Dusty - a 25 lbs, Doc-son (however it's spelt) Beagle Mix, 9-11 years old - had attacked Pocket cuz he had tried to take the chewy from Busty. Neither Tristan nor Susie seen exactly what Dusty had done to Pocket but they said that Pocket tried to take the chewy, they heard Dusty growl, and then Pocket was lying on the floor. Tristan pulled a pen apart, did a finger sweep to clear his path way, stuck the pen down his throat, and made him breathe.
I walked into the hospital and Pocket was in Stable condition. They said that they didn't have the proper things to take care of Pocket there, so they told us to go to another hospital. We took Pocket up to the other hospital, and all the way there he looked so sad and confused. He looked like he was crying. We got him there and they took him into the back. They needed a deposit up-front before they'd work on him. So we paid it. I couldn't stop crying, I was so mad, and I was almost hyper-ventilating. The vet came in and told us the condition he was in. He had fluid in his lungs and they couldn't totally tell if his ribs had puncture his lungs. They asked me to sign a revival form, that said if he did start to convulse or slip, if I wanted them to try and bring him back. I signed the paper. If it were meant to be.. it was meant to be. They let us see him before we had to leave. He was sitting up in this box that looked like an incubator, his eyes were still watering, and drool was streaming out of his mouth like you had turned on a faucet. I couldn't stop crying. I didn't really want to leave him cuz he had never been at the vets by himself, so I know he was freaked out about what was going on. I felt SO bad leaving him there. I wanted him to just be ok and come home with us. I kept telling myself this is all a bad dream, I'm going to wake up soon.
We got home and I felt bad leaving him there, on his birthday even. So, I decided I was going back there to cheer him up and give him his birthday presents to cheer him up and let him know that Mommy may not be there with him, but I was helping him threw it. I got there and the vet told me that they were ready to call me, cuz his pulse had dropped. Again I started balling. I just wanted my Baba to be ok, and come home with me. When I looked in on him this time, he was lying on his side, still crying, and looking like he was in some pain. I touched him and you could feel that he had something in his lungs. I gave him a kiss, and told him that I'd be there in the morning to pick him up to go home. I left balling. I could hardly see the road. I couldn't sleep, it was more of an anxiety, lying there in my bed. Before the phone rang my heart dropped. The vet was balling when he had told me that Pocket had passed. I just lied there balling as Tristan tried to confort me. I couldn't believe that this was all happening. Just the day before, on my way out the door I had played with my Baba kissed him and told him I'd see him at lunch when I would pick Daddy up. I got home from lunch, played with him some more, kissed him as we left to get lunch, and told him I'd see him after work.
I still am having a hard time realizing that he's not here. When I water my lawn I see him in the window watching me and then running to the other window to see me walk in the house, and then meeting me at the front door. But he's not there.]
I miss him everyday, and it really does kind of mess with my emotions and make me not care so much for life anymore. I'm still an emotional wreck over of it. I don't seem to be be as outgoing as I was, or really have that drive to do my best or better than I can do, and nobody - not even Tristan seems to understand this. If I bring it up, I just cry or it just gets disregarded. I miss him dearly but I'd love to be myself again. When we went up to my Mom's Hallow's Eve party she gave us Pocket's headstone. It's so cute. It's got his picture on it and everything. It's back infront of his tree stump. I've been finding it harder and harder to go out and light his candles lately. :(
I've got my Honey, and she's a delight, but she makes me miss Pocket all that much more.
My little Miss Honey is 4 months old, a carmel/brown with a white patch on her chest, and loves to chomp on anything and everything. I brought her home two nights after Pocket had passed away. I didn't really want to because I thought that he'd be looking down thinking that I'd re-placed him. But I wasn't he knew that she was coming. I had to get Honey because my friend Sheryl had a foster-child, who's five, and didn't like dogs, and she was scared that he's hurt the puppies. I was sad about the whole thing. It was going to be Pixie and Pocket. Once I got her home I didn't feel comfortable naming her Pixie cuz I don't have Pocket. So I decided that Honey would work out fine.
She looks like a little angel, but please don't be mistaken she's got horns under that halo. She's got so many toys, and did I mention she loves to chew on anything and everything??!? I love her and she's helping Mommy deal. This crack will never be sealed but it's there as a reminder for the one I lost.
Much Love; Austa: Mishia!!!!
p.s. Pocket's Mom, Baby, is going into heat anytime now, and my Mom's awesome Chili dog is going to breed with her and I'm going to get a boy.
On August 31rst I took the truck to work, which meant I had to go home for lunch so Tristan could have it for work. We went to Panda and we still had time left before I had to get back from lunch. I suggested we go to PetsMart to look at fish tank filters so we could get a new one for our tank. We looked at them and they were to expensive, so we browsed around. We wondered over to the dog department and I had remembered it was Pocket's 7 Month birthday. I got all happy and said that we should get him a new cat-ball toy, because the one he'd had since we brought him home was all in shreds, Tristan said ok. We also got him these cute little pink ping-pong balls, he loved the way they sounded on his nails. So, I thought that would be a good idea. Tristan wanted to get all of the other dogs so chewys. I said ok, cuz I didn't think that it was fair that only Pocket got something, even though it was his birthday.
Well I had to get back to work, so I kissed Tristan good-bye, and he went home. It had been a long day at work and I couldn't wait to sit down for my last break. I noticed that I had a voice mail on my phone. So I called my answering machine. All I heard was, "Pocket, Emergency Room, Across the street, Critical Condition.", I was like, "W.T.F.?!?!?!? Did I just hear what I thought I heard?!?" I had to re-play it, and sure enough it said what I didn't want to hear again, "Mishia, I'm across the street. Pocket's in critical condition in the emergency room. You need to come here." I just started balling. I found my manager, told him what was going on, and I left. I got across the street, to find out that Tristan dog - Dusty - a 25 lbs, Doc-son (however it's spelt) Beagle Mix, 9-11 years old - had attacked Pocket cuz he had tried to take the chewy from Busty. Neither Tristan nor Susie seen exactly what Dusty had done to Pocket but they said that Pocket tried to take the chewy, they heard Dusty growl, and then Pocket was lying on the floor. Tristan pulled a pen apart, did a finger sweep to clear his path way, stuck the pen down his throat, and made him breathe.
I walked into the hospital and Pocket was in Stable condition. They said that they didn't have the proper things to take care of Pocket there, so they told us to go to another hospital. We took Pocket up to the other hospital, and all the way there he looked so sad and confused. He looked like he was crying. We got him there and they took him into the back. They needed a deposit up-front before they'd work on him. So we paid it. I couldn't stop crying, I was so mad, and I was almost hyper-ventilating. The vet came in and told us the condition he was in. He had fluid in his lungs and they couldn't totally tell if his ribs had puncture his lungs. They asked me to sign a revival form, that said if he did start to convulse or slip, if I wanted them to try and bring him back. I signed the paper. If it were meant to be.. it was meant to be. They let us see him before we had to leave. He was sitting up in this box that looked like an incubator, his eyes were still watering, and drool was streaming out of his mouth like you had turned on a faucet. I couldn't stop crying. I didn't really want to leave him cuz he had never been at the vets by himself, so I know he was freaked out about what was going on. I felt SO bad leaving him there. I wanted him to just be ok and come home with us. I kept telling myself this is all a bad dream, I'm going to wake up soon.
We got home and I felt bad leaving him there, on his birthday even. So, I decided I was going back there to cheer him up and give him his birthday presents to cheer him up and let him know that Mommy may not be there with him, but I was helping him threw it. I got there and the vet told me that they were ready to call me, cuz his pulse had dropped. Again I started balling. I just wanted my Baba to be ok, and come home with me. When I looked in on him this time, he was lying on his side, still crying, and looking like he was in some pain. I touched him and you could feel that he had something in his lungs. I gave him a kiss, and told him that I'd be there in the morning to pick him up to go home. I left balling. I could hardly see the road. I couldn't sleep, it was more of an anxiety, lying there in my bed. Before the phone rang my heart dropped. The vet was balling when he had told me that Pocket had passed. I just lied there balling as Tristan tried to confort me. I couldn't believe that this was all happening. Just the day before, on my way out the door I had played with my Baba kissed him and told him I'd see him at lunch when I would pick Daddy up. I got home from lunch, played with him some more, kissed him as we left to get lunch, and told him I'd see him after work.
I still am having a hard time realizing that he's not here. When I water my lawn I see him in the window watching me and then running to the other window to see me walk in the house, and then meeting me at the front door. But he's not there.]
I miss him everyday, and it really does kind of mess with my emotions and make me not care so much for life anymore. I'm still an emotional wreck over of it. I don't seem to be be as outgoing as I was, or really have that drive to do my best or better than I can do, and nobody - not even Tristan seems to understand this. If I bring it up, I just cry or it just gets disregarded. I miss him dearly but I'd love to be myself again. When we went up to my Mom's Hallow's Eve party she gave us Pocket's headstone. It's so cute. It's got his picture on it and everything. It's back infront of his tree stump. I've been finding it harder and harder to go out and light his candles lately. :(
I've got my Honey, and she's a delight, but she makes me miss Pocket all that much more.
My little Miss Honey is 4 months old, a carmel/brown with a white patch on her chest, and loves to chomp on anything and everything. I brought her home two nights after Pocket had passed away. I didn't really want to because I thought that he'd be looking down thinking that I'd re-placed him. But I wasn't he knew that she was coming. I had to get Honey because my friend Sheryl had a foster-child, who's five, and didn't like dogs, and she was scared that he's hurt the puppies. I was sad about the whole thing. It was going to be Pixie and Pocket. Once I got her home I didn't feel comfortable naming her Pixie cuz I don't have Pocket. So I decided that Honey would work out fine.
She looks like a little angel, but please don't be mistaken she's got horns under that halo. She's got so many toys, and did I mention she loves to chew on anything and everything??!? I love her and she's helping Mommy deal. This crack will never be sealed but it's there as a reminder for the one I lost.
Much Love; Austa: Mishia!!!!
p.s. Pocket's Mom, Baby, is going into heat anytime now, and my Mom's awesome Chili dog is going to breed with her and I'm going to get a boy.