Fucking Life is Shit

Yeah, nothing good comes these days. I think you knew, since I posted something about it a few days ago, the thing is, my dog was sick. Her name was Princesa and she had been with me for ten years now, best fucking living creature I ever knew! I'm angry, expect dirty words. She was so sick that the vet told us several times that we would have to put her to sleep once she started feeling pain and discomfort. The tenth of September was it. I did everything I could but she was still moaning in pain and there's was nothing I could do, fuck I felt so bad. I held her in my arms and kissed her head multiple times, I said, over and over, Princesa I love you, I love you. Because I did. But that did nothing, words did nothing. I called my grandfather and told him it was it, there was nothing we could do, and when I entered the vet, my heart sinked. I had been crying so much that my tears were dry, sobs and shouts, it was all I could muster up. Then it was the time, then she was holding the syringe in her hand and that was it, suddenly Princesa stopped breathing and I couldn't feel her heart any more. I held her in a tight embrace and just stayed like that for lord knows how much time. Then the vet came to the room carrying a box and I knew it was over, I had no hope and I felt empty and alone. We took her to that awful place where they take care of the bodies and my arms felt to empty, I had nothing to hold on to. At night, before going to bed, I spent a good two hours simply calling her, and crying. Princesa! Princesa! Up and down the hallway, dragging my feet and feeling those tears fall, I fell and stayed there, on the ground. I was about to fall asleep on the ground when a sudden shot of adrenaline made me lie on the couch and sob some more, my cat came to lye by my side, and then I was dreaming and the day was over. Fuck, fuck, I loved her so much, she was everything to me, I...I don't think words exist to describe how gentle, loving, sweet and nice she really was. For a dog, she was more human than most.

 

This is her last photo, she looked so sick and down, I wish all those I Love You's could've washed away the pain, but they didn't. 

A few days after this, I decided to finnaly start looking for another dog, not to replace her, such thing is down right impossible, but to give love and a home to another creature that needs it, to fill, even if only slightly a mutual loneliness and despair.  I found him though, he's a light coloured mix bread with wonderfully pointy ears and playfulness and love to fill hearts an hearts. He's so sweet, I choose him because he came to me, not the opposite, he lay that cute little head of his on my lap and I just gave him all the love I could in the little time we had to bond. I asked his name and age afraid that perhaps he was too old and my mother wouldn't let me adopt him, the lady told me he was named Churchill, and that he was a year and two months old. Better was impossible. Churchill went to surgery today an we will be picking him up from the shelter in about nine days. I miss him already. Here are a few photos the people taking care of him took when he first got there.