For days I've been crying in secret, covering my tracks so no one will see. And it's all because of a little doggie named Ricky Lee. Throughout his 14 years we had a list of names for him- Griffen, Ebenezer, Cheese, Niktin, Ricky Tiki Tavi, and more I can't seem to remember.
What's bothering me is something I said to my mom the day we put him to sleep.
Both of my brothers were gone; one was at work, and the other was at his girlfriend's. My dad was working one of his 4 jobs, teaching inmates at the local prison to which he calls them his "best class". It was up to my mom and me to comfort Ricky and make sure he knew it was okay to let go. My mom didn't have it in her to pick up my now lifeless little puppy. He hadn't walked, drank, ate, went to the bathroom, or even stood upright for three days. He'd just been lying on his side, a mere 25 pounds, searching through his one good eye for help. I could feel his pain when we laid next to him, so helpless and just wanting to be comforted.
That morning I had to pick him up and carry him to the car, so we could drive him to the vet. We gently laid him on the examination table as the doctor told us that Ricky was having heart failure. If we didn't euthanize him, then his body would begin an awful deterioration, one that started inside and eventually ate all of his fat. It would accentuate his malnourishment since he wasn't eating and he would begin to suffer extremely.
It's eating me inside just thinking about it.
"The only time I was ever able to hold my dog was on the day of his death."
My own words have been haunting me. I miss him so much and there is nothing I can do to bridge the gap. And I feel silly for crying in my bed and not facing that fact that it was only a house pet, but that isn't true. He was honestly a third brother who we messed around with and played with. What's killing me is that he knew he was dying. You could see it in his eyes and he sensed it too. He let us assist him going to the bathroom and hand feeding him the little food he could take in. What is the hardest part to grasp is that he couldn't verbalize what was hurting or how we could help. We were reaching in the dark to try and soothe him in any way we could, and he was gripping for help through his beady black eyes.
I just miss him.
If you have pets, appreciate them like you would your grandparents and other relatives. You'll never be prepared when you have to act as their executioner- the person who drives them to the vet. In my case, the hands that carried him last.
Kahlil Gibran (my favorite writer) and the author of the famous, The Prophet, wrote a phenomenal section on pain. He said...
"Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility"
This ties into music because when we are depressed we listen to songs that either cheer us up or feed into our depression, allowing us to heal on our own time. I'm more like the latter. If I'm sad many times I don't want to be cheered. Instead I want to wallow and appreciate the pain for what it is, allowing my inner physician to heal me. And I do this through music. Here is a top five list of my saddest songs that I fall back on, guilty pleasure type of song or not.
5. Coldplay - The Scientist
4. Sia - Breathe Me
3. Counting Crows - Colorblind
2. Bon Iver- Re: Stacks
1. Sigur Ros - Untitled 1 "Vaka"
I know some of these have debuted in my blog before, but if anyone wants to cry about life-events, try these. This is the hardest thing that's going to happen to me in my life, but its a lot tougher than I expected.
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