(no subject)
hi. i just need to write everything out.
i've only gone home once since i moved out here almost a year ago to go to college. that one time i went was easter weekend. my oldest dog, jasmine, a golden retriever, had been visibly sick for over a month. she'd had a few seizures, didn't eat or drink as much, and was just generally going downhill. on top of that, her entire spine was fused together with arthritis. there was very limited mobility and she was in a tremendous amount of pain. the thing that made my entire family feel horrible is that we never even thought she was in pain. she was the kind of dog that wanted to please everyone else. she would still smile for us, still act like a puppy. she never refused to get up or run, though it did take her a little longer and was a little more difficult.
my parents decided to put her down on april 22. i flew out from st louis the day before. her appointment was at 1pm. the veterinarian and her assistant, the ones who had seen jasmine a few times already, came to our house with their equipment. my family had set up a cushioned area in the basement, surrounded by seating. it was a pet bed and old blankets. we were told to use disposable items, as pets being put down may defecate, vomit, etc. about an hour before her appointment, my family opened a gift a close family friend had given us for the occasion-- a stepping stone meant for pet paw prints. we put my cat and other dog's prints on there, but jasmine's was dead center. we also took some last photos with/of her. she could barely move or smile anymore, so we had to go to where she was.
the vet and her helper arrived fairly on time. there was no avoiding the inevitable anymore. they got right to work essentially. they didn't think jasmine could move, and they were right to think so. a dog's entire spine fused together? surely they couldn't walk. but she managed to. we had to help, but she put all her energy into pleasing us one more time. she didn't even flinch when the vet put the catheter in. my dad was sitting in a chair behind jasmine. my brother was standing off to the side behind me. i was sitting by my mother, who was holding one of her paws and petting it. jasmine was lying completely on her side staring at my mother and i, because we were the only ones in her vision. she couldn't lift her head anymore.
the vet asked if we wanted to wait any longer, and we said no. she injected the medicine through the catheter and listened to her heartbeat. jasmine didn't show any pain, surprise, anxiety... nothing. she just laid there. she looked at my mother, then flickered her eyes over to me one last time. i knelt down, kissed her forehead, and said, "i love you." she then stared at the empty space between my mother and i until her eyes lost their light. the vet announced that she'd passed.
if you thought my family didn't cry until she passed, you're wrong. as soon as the vet's entered my house, my brother instantly started crying. though he's older now, he was trying very hard not to show his sadness. when we laid her down, my mother and i started tearing up. when they injected the medicine, my dad joined us in crying. when she passed, we were all a mess. my mother kept repeating, "she was a good dog, she was such a good dog." my dad was frozen and silent until the vet asked if we wanted more time with her, to which he shook his head. they left to get the stretcher from their van. my mom called my dad over to her. she said, "look at her face, adam. she looks so peaceful. she held on just long enough for us..."
the vet and her assistant placed a blanket over jasmine. they set the stretcher down beside her and heaved her onto it. my mother thanked them profusely for coming to our house. my dad thanked them from his chair. my brother had turned to look outside the window to the front of our house. i was sitting in the same spot on the floor, hogging the box of tissues i'd found. they said their good-byes and condolences, then took jasmine with them to the car. i joined my brother at the window, watching the vet load jasmine into their van. (it was a rainy day, imagine that). i didn't draw my eyes away until they pulled out of our driveway and drove out of sight.
she was gone.
later that day, my father and brother were outside doing landscaping for our house. he'd gone to lowe's that morning to get flowers. he returned with, and later planted, 15 marigolds in pots flanking our front door. jasmine was a golden retriever, and she was going on her 15th year being with us (she was 14). i'd then decided that if i ever wanted to, i'd get some marigold flowers tattooed in honor of her.
i'm missing her a lot lately. i'm having dreams with her in them. some are happy and youthful. others are dark and suicidal. i've woken up from them crying a few times. i'm currently listening to angel by sarah mclachlan on repeat. it's helped me cry while writing this experience out. i needed to write it all down somewhere.
missing her and recollecting this experience has made me think of actually getting the marigolds tattoo. some people may think it's stupid to get a tattoo in memorial for a pet, which is how tyler is feeling. he dislikes tattoos, unless they have a thousand years of meaning to them. i'm fascinated by tattoos. i love them. if i got every tattoo idea that i've ever thought of, i'd be covered in words, cartoons, etc. i've expressed to tyler every random tattoo i've ever thought of getting. i've reassured him that i just like thinking of ideas of what to get as a hobby. i would rarely be serious about getting something, and if i was serious, i'd let him know and talk it over with him first.
i'd expressed this memorial tattoo to him a few days after jasmine passed. he thought i was just mentioning it, and i didn't pursue it any further. now, however, i'm becoming more serious about wanting to get it. the biggest thing stopping me is wondering if it would be a turn off to him. i thought he was asleep, so i sent a text explaining this and how i'd like his approval of my idea because it means a lot. his response was very cold, consisting of, "you know how i'd feel about it," "you're just grieving," and "getting a tattoo won't help the grieving process whatsoever." i asked if he wouldn't like it, and he flat out said no, he wouldn't.
i said, "and what if it was a person who'd died, huh? do you think it's stupid just because she was a dog? do you not think i have any reasons at all for getting the tattoo?" he said that if it was a person that i'd been very close to for a long period of time that had died, it'd be different. when i asked why, he said because you can communicate with and have a much deeper and more meaningful relationship with people than you could ever have with a pet. i disagreed.
when i asked him if he'd break up with me if i got the tattoo, he simply said, "it's a huge turn off..." i'd gotten my answer.
we're probably going to be talking about it a lot more. i'm in a huge dilemma with this. i don't want to break up with him just to get a tattoo. but i also don't want to feel/be restricted on what i can and can't do with my own body.
for people that want my reasons for wanting this tattoo and why it'd mean so much, here it is-- jasmine was one of the only constants in my life growing up. my family moved so much. i had friends, but i never knew how long i'd have them. there wasn't any internet or facebook when i was little. when i made a friend, i knew it was only for a year or two. after that, my family would move, sometimes literally halfway across the country. i mostly only had my mother. my father was the reason we moved all the time, being in the military. he was hardly at home. i hardly spent any time with my father growing up. i'm much closer with my mother. i call her my best friend, because she was also one of the only constants in my life.
jasmine was my first dog. we got her when i was about six or seven years old. she slept with me sometimes, played with me, or we'd just lay out in the nice florida weather together. we brought her with us through every move. we always made sure that we were renting a house that was fine with pets. when i was going through my depression, she was there. whenever i'd cut, and even after my suicide attempt, she was one of the only ones that wasn't mad at me. she never judged me or thought twice about if i was in a stable enough mood to be with her. she would nudge my knee or hand with her nose, wanting me to pet her. she knew that if i pet her, i wouldn't feel so alone anymore.
jasmine was with me all throughout my school life. she was my photography subject. i loved taking photos of her and she loved posing for me. she had the most beautiful coat and white face, with the darkest chocolate eyes i've ever seen. and no matter what, she would always flash me a crooked smile. she comforted me when i was in bed sick or cramping. she was just always there for my family and i. she was our rock and we loved her immensely for it.
since her passing, i don't feel like i can go to the house in dc. it has a different feel without her there. my family is moving in about a month to hawaii, so it won't be much longer before i don't have to think about it. jasmine was just a part of my everyday life and i don't know who i'd be if she wasn't there.
because apparently, i need some kind of deep reasoning for wanting to get a tattoo of someone-- oh i'm sorry, something-- close to me. jasmine was the first real death i've had to experience. no one else in my family has passed. i've never been to a funeral and i've never had to deal with grief. just because she was a dog, doesn't make her any less of an importance in my life.
i guess i'm done now. i've been working on writing this for over an hour now. i feel better having told my story. if you read the first half, i thank you. if you read everything, i sincerely thank you. jasmine will always be in my heart, if not on my skin.
i've only gone home once since i moved out here almost a year ago to go to college. that one time i went was easter weekend. my oldest dog, jasmine, a golden retriever, had been visibly sick for over a month. she'd had a few seizures, didn't eat or drink as much, and was just generally going downhill. on top of that, her entire spine was fused together with arthritis. there was very limited mobility and she was in a tremendous amount of pain. the thing that made my entire family feel horrible is that we never even thought she was in pain. she was the kind of dog that wanted to please everyone else. she would still smile for us, still act like a puppy. she never refused to get up or run, though it did take her a little longer and was a little more difficult.
my parents decided to put her down on april 22. i flew out from st louis the day before. her appointment was at 1pm. the veterinarian and her assistant, the ones who had seen jasmine a few times already, came to our house with their equipment. my family had set up a cushioned area in the basement, surrounded by seating. it was a pet bed and old blankets. we were told to use disposable items, as pets being put down may defecate, vomit, etc. about an hour before her appointment, my family opened a gift a close family friend had given us for the occasion-- a stepping stone meant for pet paw prints. we put my cat and other dog's prints on there, but jasmine's was dead center. we also took some last photos with/of her. she could barely move or smile anymore, so we had to go to where she was.
the vet and her helper arrived fairly on time. there was no avoiding the inevitable anymore. they got right to work essentially. they didn't think jasmine could move, and they were right to think so. a dog's entire spine fused together? surely they couldn't walk. but she managed to. we had to help, but she put all her energy into pleasing us one more time. she didn't even flinch when the vet put the catheter in. my dad was sitting in a chair behind jasmine. my brother was standing off to the side behind me. i was sitting by my mother, who was holding one of her paws and petting it. jasmine was lying completely on her side staring at my mother and i, because we were the only ones in her vision. she couldn't lift her head anymore.
the vet asked if we wanted to wait any longer, and we said no. she injected the medicine through the catheter and listened to her heartbeat. jasmine didn't show any pain, surprise, anxiety... nothing. she just laid there. she looked at my mother, then flickered her eyes over to me one last time. i knelt down, kissed her forehead, and said, "i love you." she then stared at the empty space between my mother and i until her eyes lost their light. the vet announced that she'd passed.
if you thought my family didn't cry until she passed, you're wrong. as soon as the vet's entered my house, my brother instantly started crying. though he's older now, he was trying very hard not to show his sadness. when we laid her down, my mother and i started tearing up. when they injected the medicine, my dad joined us in crying. when she passed, we were all a mess. my mother kept repeating, "she was a good dog, she was such a good dog." my dad was frozen and silent until the vet asked if we wanted more time with her, to which he shook his head. they left to get the stretcher from their van. my mom called my dad over to her. she said, "look at her face, adam. she looks so peaceful. she held on just long enough for us..."
the vet and her assistant placed a blanket over jasmine. they set the stretcher down beside her and heaved her onto it. my mother thanked them profusely for coming to our house. my dad thanked them from his chair. my brother had turned to look outside the window to the front of our house. i was sitting in the same spot on the floor, hogging the box of tissues i'd found. they said their good-byes and condolences, then took jasmine with them to the car. i joined my brother at the window, watching the vet load jasmine into their van. (it was a rainy day, imagine that). i didn't draw my eyes away until they pulled out of our driveway and drove out of sight.
she was gone.
later that day, my father and brother were outside doing landscaping for our house. he'd gone to lowe's that morning to get flowers. he returned with, and later planted, 15 marigolds in pots flanking our front door. jasmine was a golden retriever, and she was going on her 15th year being with us (she was 14). i'd then decided that if i ever wanted to, i'd get some marigold flowers tattooed in honor of her.
i'm missing her a lot lately. i'm having dreams with her in them. some are happy and youthful. others are dark and suicidal. i've woken up from them crying a few times. i'm currently listening to angel by sarah mclachlan on repeat. it's helped me cry while writing this experience out. i needed to write it all down somewhere.
missing her and recollecting this experience has made me think of actually getting the marigolds tattoo. some people may think it's stupid to get a tattoo in memorial for a pet, which is how tyler is feeling. he dislikes tattoos, unless they have a thousand years of meaning to them. i'm fascinated by tattoos. i love them. if i got every tattoo idea that i've ever thought of, i'd be covered in words, cartoons, etc. i've expressed to tyler every random tattoo i've ever thought of getting. i've reassured him that i just like thinking of ideas of what to get as a hobby. i would rarely be serious about getting something, and if i was serious, i'd let him know and talk it over with him first.
i'd expressed this memorial tattoo to him a few days after jasmine passed. he thought i was just mentioning it, and i didn't pursue it any further. now, however, i'm becoming more serious about wanting to get it. the biggest thing stopping me is wondering if it would be a turn off to him. i thought he was asleep, so i sent a text explaining this and how i'd like his approval of my idea because it means a lot. his response was very cold, consisting of, "you know how i'd feel about it," "you're just grieving," and "getting a tattoo won't help the grieving process whatsoever." i asked if he wouldn't like it, and he flat out said no, he wouldn't.
i said, "and what if it was a person who'd died, huh? do you think it's stupid just because she was a dog? do you not think i have any reasons at all for getting the tattoo?" he said that if it was a person that i'd been very close to for a long period of time that had died, it'd be different. when i asked why, he said because you can communicate with and have a much deeper and more meaningful relationship with people than you could ever have with a pet. i disagreed.
when i asked him if he'd break up with me if i got the tattoo, he simply said, "it's a huge turn off..." i'd gotten my answer.
we're probably going to be talking about it a lot more. i'm in a huge dilemma with this. i don't want to break up with him just to get a tattoo. but i also don't want to feel/be restricted on what i can and can't do with my own body.
for people that want my reasons for wanting this tattoo and why it'd mean so much, here it is-- jasmine was one of the only constants in my life growing up. my family moved so much. i had friends, but i never knew how long i'd have them. there wasn't any internet or facebook when i was little. when i made a friend, i knew it was only for a year or two. after that, my family would move, sometimes literally halfway across the country. i mostly only had my mother. my father was the reason we moved all the time, being in the military. he was hardly at home. i hardly spent any time with my father growing up. i'm much closer with my mother. i call her my best friend, because she was also one of the only constants in my life.
jasmine was my first dog. we got her when i was about six or seven years old. she slept with me sometimes, played with me, or we'd just lay out in the nice florida weather together. we brought her with us through every move. we always made sure that we were renting a house that was fine with pets. when i was going through my depression, she was there. whenever i'd cut, and even after my suicide attempt, she was one of the only ones that wasn't mad at me. she never judged me or thought twice about if i was in a stable enough mood to be with her. she would nudge my knee or hand with her nose, wanting me to pet her. she knew that if i pet her, i wouldn't feel so alone anymore.
jasmine was with me all throughout my school life. she was my photography subject. i loved taking photos of her and she loved posing for me. she had the most beautiful coat and white face, with the darkest chocolate eyes i've ever seen. and no matter what, she would always flash me a crooked smile. she comforted me when i was in bed sick or cramping. she was just always there for my family and i. she was our rock and we loved her immensely for it.
since her passing, i don't feel like i can go to the house in dc. it has a different feel without her there. my family is moving in about a month to hawaii, so it won't be much longer before i don't have to think about it. jasmine was just a part of my everyday life and i don't know who i'd be if she wasn't there.
because apparently, i need some kind of deep reasoning for wanting to get a tattoo of someone-- oh i'm sorry, something-- close to me. jasmine was the first real death i've had to experience. no one else in my family has passed. i've never been to a funeral and i've never had to deal with grief. just because she was a dog, doesn't make her any less of an importance in my life.
i guess i'm done now. i've been working on writing this for over an hour now. i feel better having told my story. if you read the first half, i thank you. if you read everything, i sincerely thank you. jasmine will always be in my heart, if not on my skin.