And so it continues....
I did end up skipping my mythology class to go to that “meeting” today and did learn some new things about LONCAPA, not much but somethings. I never had the opportunity (or curse) to using the on-line program that is similar to blackboard. I think I would have liked it, despite the few bugs it had. My thoughts as Mr.Struck was showing me, though, were merely “oooh colours.” My mind has been elsewhere for the entire day, I bet you know where. But I’ll get to that later.
Computers was boring as usual, but I had discovered that if you ask my professor a question after class because he will just keep talking. I asked him if he knew where to find a payphone, and we ended (10 minutes later) with him telling me that he’ll have to get voyange (I’m not sure if that is spelled right) before the end of the semester so he can tell me whether it is good or not.
So I go and wander around until I find a payphone, which I find and make.
Okay, so the important phone call. It’s still hard to believe but I know it happened. Denial is one of the first things to happen. I called Dr. Nolan to see how Tassie was doing and he told me that she had died right after the surgery. He said that there was no chance saving her, even after the surgery because she was still trying produce eggs, and her utterus, which is suppose to be 2 cm (I think that’s the right unit) was 5, and full of yolk. He said that this morning he thought she was going to make it. I’m going to go pick up her cage tomorrow, and probably pick up her body to bury in the backyard next to Frostie. I really hope Sassie is okay and doesn’t get depressed because I don’t want to lose either of them. I haven’t told my mom or dad yet and I’m not sure if Dr. Nolan called them. I don’t think I could talk to anybody about it right now. My poor baby bird broke herself. Tomorrow will be difficult but it needs to happen. I can’t help but wondering if I did the antibotics instead if she would have been fine, even though he told me that there was nothing medical we could do to help her. Basically, she was going to die either way. I know when I get home and tell my mom, she is going to comment on how I spent so much money on her. She doesn’t get it and she doesn’t want to. Tassie isn’t just a pet, she’s apart of my family. She expects me to take care of her when she is sick and make her feel better. I can’t just sit there and watch her suffer or say, oh well, let’s just put her to sleep. That’s just like saying that I have the flu and need medicine, so lets put me to sleep. It isn’t right or fair. If you can’t afford to take care of the animal, then don’t get it or give it to someone who will.
Anyway, this isn’t about my mom its about Tassie. She was only three years old…parakeets live to be longer than that typically. And now I’m scared for Sassie too, because she already flies around the room, and sits on the mirror so she can see the entire room, looking for her sister. And when Snowy was sick and we put him to sleep Frostie got depressed and died from that. So what happens to Sassie? There’s just a lot to think about.
I just got Sassie a new toy, a millet holder and osme millet. And I think I drank my chocolate milk too fast. There isn’t much left to talk about for now.
Computers was boring as usual, but I had discovered that if you ask my professor a question after class because he will just keep talking. I asked him if he knew where to find a payphone, and we ended (10 minutes later) with him telling me that he’ll have to get voyange (I’m not sure if that is spelled right) before the end of the semester so he can tell me whether it is good or not.
So I go and wander around until I find a payphone, which I find and make.
Okay, so the important phone call. It’s still hard to believe but I know it happened. Denial is one of the first things to happen. I called Dr. Nolan to see how Tassie was doing and he told me that she had died right after the surgery. He said that there was no chance saving her, even after the surgery because she was still trying produce eggs, and her utterus, which is suppose to be 2 cm (I think that’s the right unit) was 5, and full of yolk. He said that this morning he thought she was going to make it. I’m going to go pick up her cage tomorrow, and probably pick up her body to bury in the backyard next to Frostie. I really hope Sassie is okay and doesn’t get depressed because I don’t want to lose either of them. I haven’t told my mom or dad yet and I’m not sure if Dr. Nolan called them. I don’t think I could talk to anybody about it right now. My poor baby bird broke herself. Tomorrow will be difficult but it needs to happen. I can’t help but wondering if I did the antibotics instead if she would have been fine, even though he told me that there was nothing medical we could do to help her. Basically, she was going to die either way. I know when I get home and tell my mom, she is going to comment on how I spent so much money on her. She doesn’t get it and she doesn’t want to. Tassie isn’t just a pet, she’s apart of my family. She expects me to take care of her when she is sick and make her feel better. I can’t just sit there and watch her suffer or say, oh well, let’s just put her to sleep. That’s just like saying that I have the flu and need medicine, so lets put me to sleep. It isn’t right or fair. If you can’t afford to take care of the animal, then don’t get it or give it to someone who will.
Anyway, this isn’t about my mom its about Tassie. She was only three years old…parakeets live to be longer than that typically. And now I’m scared for Sassie too, because she already flies around the room, and sits on the mirror so she can see the entire room, looking for her sister. And when Snowy was sick and we put him to sleep Frostie got depressed and died from that. So what happens to Sassie? There’s just a lot to think about.
I just got Sassie a new toy, a millet holder and osme millet. And I think I drank my chocolate milk too fast. There isn’t much left to talk about for now.