I'm going to say this before you get a chance to go further: this will be a pretty depressing post. If you're browsing through CAP blogs, looking for something frivolous to make fun of, this is not the post you want to read. Only go further if you are ok with some seriously depressing stuff.
That said, my dog died on Wednesday.
She was diagnosed with epilepsy around a year and a half ago. It seemed like a relatively mild case, it was only barely bad enough to require medication at all, and most dogs in similar situations live to their full lifespans and die of natural causes. If only Tybee could have been so lucky.
She ran off around the neighborhood last Sunday evening. Starting that night, she had longer, worse seizures with less time interval between them, until she spent Tuesday night at the overnight vet on meds and IVs, unconscious because if she'd been conscious she'd be having seizures. That night or early Wednesday morning, I don't know which, my parents and the vets called it: she'd need to be put down. My parents told me when I got downstairs that morning. She was put to sleep while I was at school, sometime in the morning.
For anyone who saw me on Wednesday, it was pretty apparent that something was wrong. I stumbled around dazedly, clutching a travel mug of hot tea and looking for friends to tell the sad news. I told someone on crew to tell the coach I wouldn't be at practice; I told a teacher as heads-up in case I started crying in her class; I found a couple of friends and told them.
That was Wednesday. Today is Monday.
These blog posts are technically due Sunday evenings but I've had other things on my mind.
This morning I woke up and wished I could have a "canine wake up call," as we called it.
I put on my jacket when I was getting dressed and found a few dog hairs on it.
I opened the fridge and half-expected to see her begging at it when I shut the door.
I sat at the table and imagined a nose sticking out from under it.
I went down to the basement and saw where we put all of her stuff.
I don't even remember the car ride to school.
I found another dog hair on my jacket in class.
I wiped another one off my phone at lunch.
People keep asking me if I'm ok, and I don't entirely know how to respond. This week has been the longest and saddest that I can remember.
So, sorry if I seem unresponsive at school. I guess I'm just still in shock.
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