Always has to be puppies
Quite a stoic chap normally, but my heart just melted when my girlfriend and I found a little Pitbull puppy on the roadside. Now, this being in out in the middle of nowhere in Arizona, and the puppy being very distressed and seriously dehydrated, we picked her up, rushed home and gave her some water, cleared the infestation of tics from her ears and she just passed out. That night I fell in love with her. She would do cute little things like scamper over to me if I was lying down, rest her head on mine and just fall asleep. If I set her down anywhere, she'd come straight back to me and try to climb up my leg.

The next morning, she started to have uncontrollable diarrhea and vomiting. I spent every moment holding her, constantly giving her Paedolite in a feeding bottle and cleaning her when she threw it up in a bloody mess. We're not well off at all, and despite hours of frenzied calling, could not find a vet that would take payment plans or even advise us on what to do without an appointment. At midnight the gf was exhausted and distraught so she went to bed. I stayed up holding Saki (that's what we called her) until, at 5 am, she finally died. I quietly left the house, headed westish until I found a spot that felt right, and buried her beneath a tree in a plastic bag so the Coyotes wouldn't dig up the corpse, started wing home, stumbled to my knees and absolutely broke down into a barrage of big girly tears.

It's funny how things affect you. I never cry at funerals of people I've known for a long time, but a mutt I know for just a day and I can't handle it at all. Who can odds it?
(flameydog, Sat 16 Apr 2005, 0:02, Reply)