alicia (fuzzdecay) wrote,

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this is going to sound fucking lame and retarded to everyone but me, but i don't care.

i've had this dog named poochy since i was 10 years old. he was a friend of mine's before i got him. she gave him to me when she moved away. he was about 5 when i got him.

the day i got him, i walked him home (without telling my family i was bringing home a dog) with a bag full of his stuff in one hand and his leash in the other and he looked like a little mop at the end of it because they took him to shows (he's a purebred sunspot pekingese) and wouldn't cut his hair off eventhough it was the dead of summer and they kept him outside.

my grandpa told me i couldn't keep him, and it was one of the only times that i completely didn't listen to my grandpa and kept him anyways. he was the first animal that was really mine, and not just my family's.

he used to sleep in my bed and keep me awake all night with his snoring. and i'd play fetch with him, eventhough he never understood the concept of fetch, he just caught the ball and ran away with it and i'd have to chase him down and fight him for it.

he was with me when i moved from douglas to alma. after we moved he'd sit around with me and watch tv or watch me play video games and i'd share my candy and cereal with him. that dog has had the most unhealthy diet ever, he refuses to eat dog food at all.

he's been with me through every single one of my boyfriends and met a good deal of them, and been there for me to cuddle once we've broken up. he's been around my older cousin's entire life.

about 5 years ago, he started losing his memory and would get lost if we let him out to wander on his own, we lost him for 2 months before, until our neighbor found him and returned him to us. when i was in middle school, my aunt ran over him and knocked him in a ditch with me in the car, i skipped school with my mom to run him to the vet (he only had a couple of broken ribs). when i was in highschool, he was bitten by a snake and my grandma thought he was dead and covered him in a blanket and called my mom. my mom took off work and got home to find him still breathing and drove him 2 hours away to a vet that could see him immediately.

lately, he's been going deaf and he's been starting to look old. every time i've visited alma he runs up to see me wagging his tail, and when i unpack will roll around in my clothes because they smell like me. more and more i've noticed that he can't run to see me, he lifts up his head and wags his tail but just can't do it. everytime i leave i hug him really tight because i've known for years now that he's on his last leg, seeing as he's like 16 years old.

my mom called me yesterday and is going to put him to sleep because he's going blind now too, and won't eat. i just saw him a month ago and he didn't seem that bad. this is seriously tearing me up inside because i've had this dog for 11 years. i would have taken him to atlanta with me if i could have. i love him more than i love most of the people i know.

i almost want to go home and see him one last time, but i'm scared he'll be too sick and that's how i'll remember him. i think he would appreciate seeing me though, since he always seems to remember me. i dunno, i've had poochy for over half of my life now and i can't stand to see him go. i've been crying about this all day.
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