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Daisy a Day
My hormones are out of control right now. I don�t get this. We go months without registering even a blip on the radar and then seemingly from out of NOWHERE I am a blubbering idiot who cries at the drop of the hat and who is irritable and cranky with the people she cares about the most. I woke up this morning feeling almost hung over. Did I really say that? Did I really behave that way? OhmyGod � did I really cry??? Yeah. I did. Whoopsadaisy. In my defense, I�m under a lot of stress. Five years ago when this tiny little bundle of furry energy plopped itself in my lap, I knew that someday I would more than likely be faced with a difficult decision about whether or not I should let him live or put him to sleep, but I never really dreamed that that decision would come in under 5 years. It�s been one of the hardest decisions I�ve ever had to face and I�m starting to crack under the pressure of it. I decided to go ahead with another surgery on his other leg but I�m completely torn about whether or not that�s the right decision. Am I just dragging out his torture? Is he miserable and I�m just selfishly choosing to put him under the knife again so that I don�t have to say goodbye to him yet? He doesn�t act miserable � but how would I know? The money aspect of it is staggering to me if I let myself dwell on it. I�m spending how much on this dog? He was FREE when I got him. I don�t have that kind of cash to just fling around. Essentially, I am putting my life on hold so that this dog can have surgery�again. On the other hand � I can�t even think about putting him to sleep without getting all choked up about it. I know that�s not a good enough reason to base any kind of decision on, but it goes back to the fact that he doesn�t act miserable. He acts happy. He still gets all wiggly excited when I get home at the end of the day and he still smashes his muzzle into my legs when he wants attention and he still flops his tail around like a maniac when you so much as look at him and he still begs for food like it�s what he was put on this earth to do. He�s the same dog he�s always been only he can�t play like he used to. Which has to suck for him, and maybe that�s enough reason for me to not keep him alive, but I�m not so sure. I�m not sure of anything. This is why I burst into tears every time I even think about it right now. The only other person who sees this dog as much as I do right now is my roommate. Thank God she understands where I�m coming from and why I�m making the decisions I�m making. I trust 100% that if she honestly felt like I was making the wrong decision, she would tell me. That doesn�t mean she doesn�t think I�m crazy. I�m pretty sure that everyone in the world right now thinks I�m crazy for throwing this much more money into my dog but, like my roommate said last night, nobody else has a clue about what this dog has been for me in the last 5 years. He�s my Oliver. He�s my baby. He�s my best friend in the entire world. I keep trying to tell myself that it�s only money. I�ll make more. And if the other leg had blown out a year from now rather than 10 days after his first surgery, I probably wouldn�t have thought twice about having the other surgery. I�m just scared now that this is just the beginning of something that isn�t going to end. I�m scared to put this much more money into something that has no guarantee. What if I throw $1200 into fixing this second leg and then a month from now his back goes out? What if he never recovers from these surgeries? What if the leg he already had surgery on isn�t strong enough to bear the bulk of his weight yet and by having this second surgery I�m just going to be setting him back? What if�what if�what if? I have to let go. I know that. I�ll drive myself crazy. I�m already driving myself crazy. When I think about how I could have spent $2400 in the last month something clutches up inside my chest and I have some trouble breathing. But � we�re going to have the surgery. Like my roommate said last night � it�s not time to put him to sleep yet. I�m not ready for it so it�s not even really an option for me. The financial aspect isn�t as scary up close as it is from far away. I can get on a payment plan. My tax money will help. I will live on a budget. Eventually I�ll be back on my feet again and whatever happens, health wise, to Oliver from here will be dealt with later. Baby steps and only one at a time. Breathe. I can do this. Ugh. I didn�t mean for this to turn into a boring diatribe about my dog. Mostly I meant for it to be a boring diatribe about my hormones. I guess it�s apparent that there are bigger things on my mind at this moment. I�m thankful for the support that I have right now. I know that no matter how this works out, I�m going to be okay and that�s only because there are these amazing people around me who are unbelievably tolerant of my irritability, exceptionally good at making me see the rational side of things, not at all afraid to kick my ass, and � in some cases � give the best hugs of anyone in the world, ever. I�m tired of this now. I�m going back to work. |
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