quick thing on grief

some time in 2009/10 - 12.3.26

for a good amount of time now, one of my three dogs has had severe health issues.

in the back of my mind i can sort of remember how we got him. a family friend gave him to us. he was blind. i don’t remember how i felt when we got him, but i remember the absurd name suggestions i’d give. i was like, under 5 years old to be fair, so thinking “red ball” was a good name (was i mixing it up with red bull…?) makes sense.

he was always kinda aggressive, mostly because i’d barely play or stay with him. my sister was the one that took care of him the most. whenever i’d try and be with him he’d growl and bark. i was obviously scared.

i still remember the first time he bit me. the first thing i asked for was ice cream to make me feel better. i was way, way more scared. even up til 2024 or so. i hold grudges, sorry. but i never outright hated him. he was with me for as long as i remember. whenever i’d be upset he’d stay with me quietly. he’d sleep next to my rooms door.

for a good amount of time now, somethings been up with one of my three dogs.

he started to get really sick post-pandemic. his blindness got worse and his eyes were infected. he got diagnosed with diabetes. he most likely had some form of cancer. i’d watch him struggle to eat, walk, or drink water, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. he started to cry more frequently.

i’d need to keep the other two away from him, because they’d often lick his already infected eye or hump him. it was always a bit annoying, but i wanted to try and keep him as peaceful as i could. i was still scared of him but i knew he was old and couldn’t really hurt me anymore.

a few weeks ago we noticed him starting to hide to throw up. he wasn’t eating, even when we tried our best to give food to him. my aunt would visit january this year, and she said to me “i know for a fact i’m not seeing him next time”

last night, the 11th of march, my mom would wake me up and ask if there were any syringes around. she was worried about him, mostly because he’d keep crying. he had just gotten a bath and had eaten and overall seemed fine until night.

in the middle of the night she’d wake me up again, and say if she should be worried; his head was stuck upright. she said “i know for a fact i’m not seeing him tomorrow”

i didn’t know what to say. i was drowsy and upset at being forced to get up. i just said a blanket “i don’t know” and went back to bed.

at 5am my mom woke me up and told me, “he’s gone”

i had barely slept. i tried to process all of this before it even happened, about 4 months ago, and i felt like i made peace with it. but something about hearing those words still caused me to feel bad. i didn’t know what to do

we kept him in his bed and made sure the dogs couldn’t get to him, mostly to avoid them getting on top of him. we had to search for pet cemeteries around us. it all felt surreal and i’m still in a bit of denial

my mom told me someone would pick him up. i asked to see him and i did. i refused to look at his face but from the brief glimpse i got, he looked at peace. despite everything he’s been through for the last few years he looked happy

when they came to pick him up i stayed in my room

i already said bye. looking at him more would just make me feel worse. my mom tried to show me a video they took of him in the car but i refused. looking at him more would just make me feel worse

im sitting here writing this still trying to understand how to feel. this is grief but i can’t understand why it feels the way it does. i haven’t cried but i have gotten shaky breaths and uncontrollably yelled if that’s anything

for a good amount of time now one of my two dogs keeps barking at the front door wondering when he’ll come back