Thursday, August 8, 2013

So THIS is what being an adult feels like

Because it kind of sucks.  Some people won't get this post.  Some people will.  I write mainly for that crowd.  If this is something that is truly no big deal to you, read no further because I'd hate to waste time in your day.  If you think of animals as just animals, you won't understand this.  If you can understand how they become a part of your family, I write to you.

I am truly heartbroken right now.  Truly.  I can't stop crying and unless someone forces me to eat, I just don't.  I can't.  I feel like I have been bombarded, like the last person standing in the middle of a Dodgeball game.  Is that how you spell Dodgeball?  I guess I don't really care.

I received bad news that the cause of all my sickness is my animals.  I've been tested before and pet dander never showed up on the list. For some reason, though, according to this doctor, my asthma is bad because of my pets and I'm even showing scarring on my lungs from the asthma attacks and treatments.

The only solution we have is to give away our animals.  I cry just thinking about it.  Remember those precious dogs that I saved so they could stay together?  Who knows what will happen to them.  Ava's cats are going to be separated for the first time in their lives as well.  And poor Dinah.  We've had her since our first house.  She's been with us through a dozen moves and just as many years.  I found a shelter that promises they're a no-kill shelter but our animals won't be adopted out at the same time and our little family is out of sorts because of me.  As for Missy and Shadow, they stay.  Pet dander or not, I drew a line in the sand. I'm not losing everything because of one man's diagnosis.

I should have got a second opinion.  I should have.  Those adorable dogs will probably have no problems getting homes.  Their only setback is their age.  Being 13 is rough.  I pray they get to stay to stay together because they were meant to be a team:  "Laurel and Hardy." 

Being a grown up sucks.  I have to tell Ava that her animals will be gone on Friday.  She is attached to the dogs already and telling her that she's going to have to give up her cats is going to rip my heart out.  I know children bounce back and she'll probably forget, but will I?  Will I forget her face when she hears the news?  Will she cry?  I don't really want to know frankly.  How long will it take before I can get the sound of Dinah's meow out of my head or forget seeing sweet little Hardy lead Laurel into the house? It gave me a panic attack thinking about it yesterday.  Dinah's only offense is she sheds too much.  Really?

 The worst part is that I feel fine.  I take medication for my allergies and my asthma. No big deal.  I could completely continue that without getting rid of anybody but David is adamant that since the doctor has said my lungs would improve, we do it anyway.  Again, I should have got a second opinion.

Everyone is pushing me to make this change.  I have nobody to stand with.  I don't even have a friend to talk to about it because everyone believes this is going to make a huge difference.  It's not.  I know that.  I wish I could scream it in everyone else's faces because I know this is an overreaction.

Being an adult sucks.  My heart is breaking and there's no one to turn to to make the hurt go away.  If only someone could invent heart bandaid's.  Until then, I'd prefer to just keep my toys and pets and play in my corner, thank you very much.  


  1. When I was 14, my girl friend convinced me I needed a dog. I went and picked out a beautiful black lab, rottweiler, Newfoundlander, mix. he was just old enough to leave his momma when I got him. I took him home and loved him. As he grew I realized that my attempts at training him were useless. No matter what I did he was a terror to the rest of my family. We lived on a farm in the country so it was fine for him to run wild... until he started eating the chickens. From that first day on he was a different dog. I didn't feel the same when I looked at him. He was just more like a predator than he was before. After another chicken died my mother told me that I had to get rid of him. So to save his life I took him back to my girl friend. Her parents told her she couldn't keep him and he was sent back to me. We shot him and missed and my step da decide dhe couldn't do it. So my parents took him to a city far way and had him put down. He was not buried there on the farm where I could "visit". I went out in the next rain storm and asked God why on earth he had done that to me. I laid in mud and cried, and screamed until I felt that I was sure he had heard me, and I vowed to never get another animal that I couldn't train properly. I would never put another thing through what I had just gone through. He had been my baby, I had brought him inside the house on cold nights and he had slept in my bed with me. I was devastated. I think everyone has a story like this in their life. Either an animal, a real baby, or a loved one they have lost. Holding things close and enjoying them is the beauty in life, and losing them is the pain. But as we seek peace at the loss we can get closer to those we love. If we don't we get farther away. I am sorry for your pain. Truly I am. I hope you find peace friend.

  2. This comment has been removed by the author.