CommanderOfLaserCats wrote:I'm done lying about my dogs death. I hate that I have to lie. My mom tells me to tell no one the story, but I can't help it. I lie to get it out, but I can never relax because I know that I can't let the whole story out. It's been a year and a half, and I still cry myself to sleep. It wasn't a stray, but that was the only way to protect Pete... You don't have to read this obviously, I just need to get this out.
She was the sweetest dog you'd ever meet. She was a Yorkiepoo, a tiny mix between a yorkie and a poodle, but she wasn't a dog. Call me cliche, but she was smart. She understood full commands. If you said, "Don't Sit" she wouldn't, whereas if you told an average dog, they'd hear sit and sit. She was the mother of cats. If she heard my kittens fighting, she would get up, stretch, and walk towards them. The funniest thing is when she'd stick her nose under one of them, and flip them over. They would scurry, and get up before walking away from eachother. My mom took in a Pitbull that we found on our yard. He was abandoned, and scraped up from whoever abandoned him. She took him in, and he kind of adapted. I have nothing against Pitbulls, but he's too far gone.
It was a warm spring morning, and I took Mattie out. The sun was bright, and it was Spring Break. That's a very vivid memory that I have. It was bright, the sun was shining through the trees. Everything was perfect. Now, keep in mind, we never let Pete (the Pitbull) and Mattie together, as Pete was aggressive towards her. Anyway, I was lying on the grass with her, brushing her fur. It was tangled from the night before, when I had bathed her. It was kind of tangly, so I decided to bring her inside.
Why did I have to bring her inside... It's my fault that she's dead.
Pete was out of his kennel. He saw Mattie come in, and everything else is a blur. He grabbed her, and shook her. I remember her yelping, and screeching as he shook her. He growled, and Mattie was yelping. I grabbed her quickly after, and she was a little shaken... he grabbed her from my arms again, and shook her. I tried everything to get her back. I grabbed him, I tried to pry his jaws open... I even punched his throat in hopes that he would gag. Nothing happened until my mom came down, and he eventually dropped her. Picking her up, I ran outside, and put her down. I remember screaming, and pleading for her to be okay. Her pulse was almost nonexistant, her tiny face frozen in horror. Her chocolate eyes looked at me, pleading. I tried everything, but she was paralyzed. I picked her up, holding her close, and she let out a sigh, but kept breathing. We hopped in the car, and drove her to the vet... and handed her in. I pleaded, I was willing to give up anything to get her back... but the vet came out, and simply shook his head. "I'm sorry." was all he said. Two words, and one motion. I knew she was dead. He brought her out, wrapped up, apologizing.
I held that little bundle all day, pleading that she was somehow still alive. We dug a grave, and buried her, me being the last to hold her. We buried her under the tree that we had planted. All I can remember was her dying in my arms. I don't remember when in the drive that she died... but she did. That's what haunts me. I had a dog, die in my arms... Bruised, paralyzed, beaten, bloody... she died in my arms.
I miss her so much... I want her so bad. She was always there for me, no matter what. When I was picked on, when my mother and I fought. She was always there. If something happened, I could hear her coming towards me, her little claws on her pointy feet clicking against the ground, and her collar tinkling. She was always there. Just the night before, I said that I wished that she would live forever. How ironic, eh?
I still miss her so much. We still have Pete. He's changed, but he still attacks smaller dogs, grabbing my grandma's toy poodle. We saved him, the poodle... why couldn't we save her. Everytime I see Pete, I get scared. He's so sweet now, but all I see is her in his jaws. He's even staring at me now, putting his head on my knee because I'm crying. Crying and shaking. What do I do?
I miss her so much... why did she have to die. Why couldn't he have grabbed my arm or something? My arm would heal. My heart won't. I want her back, but she's gone. She was my best friend for four years. She was with me through three moves, and a custody change. Then she was gone. I still have nightmares... I don't know what to do.
Sorry that this is so long, I just had to get this off my chest. It's been there for almost two years. I want to let her go, to stop mourning her death... This was the only way I could think to do that... Please... I don't know what to do. I'm shaking and sweating so badly that I can barely type, and I have a headache from crying so much.
I'm sorry that this is so long... I really am...
I miss her... I want her back...
*Hugs* I can't believe how sad you must be feeling. I am so sorry. This kind of pain must feel awful. I have a really old dog and my parents are going to put him down, and I feel kind of what you were talking about. But your dog's death was not your fault, so stop blaming yourself, and you said you tried to help your dog as best as you could, and you were really brave trying to stop him. I know I couldn't do that. You are being so strong right now. My best advice... well I would tell someone you can trust, like a best friend. I know from experience that it can be hard to tell someone, but when it comes out, I felt I was being supported a lot and that helped me get through it. Just remember you are surrounded by people who love and admire you, and I admire you too for being so brave. You are a special and wonderful person and don't forget that.
I just looked over this, and my advice sucks. I'm sorry about that, and I'm so sorry about your dog. Feel free to PM me, and I will do anything that I can do to help you.
