grief and greiving

my dear pup pulled an epic prank (gone WRONG) at 3am...

okay, seriously, it's been… a weird last couple of days.
on monday the first thing i was told as i sat in my dad's car after a day of studying diligently was "guess what!" before the words "we had to put the dog down" followed, it... uh, wasn't something i was expecting to hear nor something i wanted to hear while in a 30min long car ride towards home, as one might expect that made it quite awkward. my father has never been great with knowing what is appropriate, and that, in my opinion, could have been said in a more... tactful way-

truth to be told! i was pretty much expecting that, everyone was, poor guy has had a very obvious health decline during the last couple of weeks due to aging. I danced around the idea of him passing, and, i thought, as he wasn't my dog, that i wouldn't be too affected by it

boy oh boy, how wrong i was!!
it's the first time I've ever dealt with grief firsthand. i had no idea what to think (still dont) i just know that i suck at dealing with my emotions, negative ones particularly, and this pretty much set me over the edge for a while.
on one hand, i believed i didn't even deserve feeling bad about the loss. afterall, he wasn't my dog, we weren't particularly close, sure, id say we were friends, i would often sit down with him on the balcony, in the garden, on the floor, on the asphalt… wherever, with his head on my lap, ruffling his fur and just hanging out as he napped and "sighed" like he had just worked a 12hrs shift in a mine, which, in a way, he had, dude loooved digging.

...still, he's always been my sister's dog, and when she moved out he got attached to my parents more than he was attached to me, which is absolutely fair since i don't particularly like dogs, so, sure, we were on good terms, but we weren't each other's favorite faimily members.

haa... well, the realization still hit like a truck, it had been a while since i had thrown up because of anything other than alcohol, and it being from distress wasn't something i enjoyed going through. i threw up quite a bit, cried, and didn't sleep well for a few days, sometimes i still get emotional about it, especially when i saw his kennel outside, his blankets, rugs, and pillows still crumpled like they were when he last slept in them. we got rid of his treats yesterday, gave them to someone we know who has dogs, so they wouldn't go to waste, along with his daily food, his outside bowls are currently collecting the rain that has been falling for the past days, i saw a bird drink from one of them this morning, a pretty bird too, it was quite nice to see.
i guess that even tho he's gone he's still bringing happiness to others one way or the other.

what really gets me is that next month would have been his birthday, his 15th birthday. he didn't manage to reach that. what he did reach was spring at least. he was born during spring, so, 14 years ago, my weeb ass of a sister called him "haru", she explained that spring meant "rebirth", which was fitting since he came from a pound. in a way, he got to be reborn twice ahah... 

...sigh, i just hope that his last trip to the vet wasn't too harsh on him and that he's alright now...

brief memory time?

i remember when i was still a kid, probably around 10? and he ran between my legs to get into the garden because i was standing at the door, and, since the little beast was as tall as i was at the time, he practically took me on a horse ride before i slipped off and fell nastily on the gravel... bastard;

another time, during winter, probably a few years after, we were playing with snow, i was chucking snowballs at him and he was running around trying to catch them like they were tennis balls. well.. at some point he jumped me, literally, and we got buried under a shit ton of snow... again, bastard;

id often let him on the couch, we had a strict "no dog on the couch policy", well, my parents did, i didnt mind having him lay on me while watching tv, so, each time my parents were out, id put a beach towel on the couch and have him hop on so we could chill in peace, he always looked at me perplexedly the first few times, like he was debating whether he was really allowed to be on or if it was a test to see his loyalty to the house rules, lucky for me, we never go caught (if caught, he would have gotten a diappoited glare, i would have lost my living priviledges)

brushing him whenever he started shedding was fun. i hated doing it because it was so messy, but then the thick fur would start blowing away in the wind, or just pool at our feet, and we'd just look at each other like "damn, that's you?" before going back to the task at hand;

one time, he was in the house and tried coming upstairs because someone (i wonder who this evil rulebreaker was) said that it was alright for him to come all the way up in her bed, but, this time my mom was upstairs, probably ironing some laundry, she caught him, told him to go downstairs and i kid you not the rat looked at me with such emotion... right at that moment i realized, if he could have spoken he would have snitched.

he had such a... human like expression, even his mannerisms were that way. he was a great, easy to read, dog, i could not complain about his behavior because he had no flaws. although he made a mess of the garden, he's a dog, he likes to dig, we quickly realized we were not going to break the habit no matter how many other options we offered to him so we just let him,
dude yearned for the mines, and dug he did...