Izulde
01-31-2011, 10:05 PM
Got home after a long and tiring Monday as Mondays always are this semester. Took off my shoes and hearing aids and prepared to settle in.
I'd forgotten my phone because I was running late this morning, and I noticed I had a message from my mom.
So I called her and we talked a bit. She said the reason she'd called earlier was because she wanted to let me know that Gator (one of our dogs) died this morning.
Well, I misheard her. I thought she said my dad died. I started freaking out and just losing it. She kept saying "It's okay. It's okay." I kept flipping out. She said, "He was an old dog."
Me: "...Wait... who are you talking about again?"
Mom: "Gator."
Me: *instant relief* "Oh."
One of my roommates called to make sure I was all right and insisted I come out and show my face to make sure I was okay, because she and her boyfriend heard my screams in the kitchen downstairs.
So yeah, still shaken up a bit.
I'll be honest, Gator wasn't my favorite of our dogs. A lot of people didn't like him much because he could be very pushy and overbearing, and he was very much an alpha, but for the most part he was a good dog. Golden Retriever/Great Pyrenees mix.
Last time I saw him was when I left home to come back to Las Vegas. I'll always be thankful for two things:
1) That I was a lot nicer and better to him the last few years than I'd been before that.
2) That I bought the dogs new toys a couple days before I went back to Las Vegas. Even at 12 years old, Gator loved playing with toys and would throw them around, chase after them, and squeak them for hours on end (He *loved* squeaky toys, especially for some strange reason, hedgehogs, elephants, and Sponge Bobs. I got him a squeaky elephant this last time).
He also loved chewing bones and wolfing his food down as fast as he could, the latter of which was an endless source of humor for the family, since our other dog is a fussy and slow eater.
Even though I didn't like him as much as our other dog (Bubba), who I love and who is my dog, and even though I didn't treat him as well as I should have earlier in his life, he never stopped loving me and everybody else in the family, especially my mom, whose dog he ended up being, just like our other dog ended up being mine. He'd always hop around in excitement whenever I came home on breaks, just as happy as Bubba to see me.
Mom and Dad are sad, but these things happen, and we've had lots of dogs through the years. At least he died at home and he went extremely quickly. My mom said in the two minutes between Dad leaving for breakfast (Gator was still alive) and Mom coming out of the bathroom after getting ready for work, he died. So it was very quick and apparently without pain.
And I hope it's a long time before I have to bump the other thread (the one I would have put this in if it wasn't for the hearing confusion), but Bubba, my dog, is 13. So I'm scared, although I think he'll hold up better without Gator than Gator would without Bubba.
Sorry for the novel.
I miss you, Gator. It's going to feel strange coming home and not having you there.
I'd forgotten my phone because I was running late this morning, and I noticed I had a message from my mom.
So I called her and we talked a bit. She said the reason she'd called earlier was because she wanted to let me know that Gator (one of our dogs) died this morning.
Well, I misheard her. I thought she said my dad died. I started freaking out and just losing it. She kept saying "It's okay. It's okay." I kept flipping out. She said, "He was an old dog."
Me: "...Wait... who are you talking about again?"
Mom: "Gator."
Me: *instant relief* "Oh."
One of my roommates called to make sure I was all right and insisted I come out and show my face to make sure I was okay, because she and her boyfriend heard my screams in the kitchen downstairs.
So yeah, still shaken up a bit.
I'll be honest, Gator wasn't my favorite of our dogs. A lot of people didn't like him much because he could be very pushy and overbearing, and he was very much an alpha, but for the most part he was a good dog. Golden Retriever/Great Pyrenees mix.
Last time I saw him was when I left home to come back to Las Vegas. I'll always be thankful for two things:
1) That I was a lot nicer and better to him the last few years than I'd been before that.
2) That I bought the dogs new toys a couple days before I went back to Las Vegas. Even at 12 years old, Gator loved playing with toys and would throw them around, chase after them, and squeak them for hours on end (He *loved* squeaky toys, especially for some strange reason, hedgehogs, elephants, and Sponge Bobs. I got him a squeaky elephant this last time).
He also loved chewing bones and wolfing his food down as fast as he could, the latter of which was an endless source of humor for the family, since our other dog is a fussy and slow eater.
Even though I didn't like him as much as our other dog (Bubba), who I love and who is my dog, and even though I didn't treat him as well as I should have earlier in his life, he never stopped loving me and everybody else in the family, especially my mom, whose dog he ended up being, just like our other dog ended up being mine. He'd always hop around in excitement whenever I came home on breaks, just as happy as Bubba to see me.
Mom and Dad are sad, but these things happen, and we've had lots of dogs through the years. At least he died at home and he went extremely quickly. My mom said in the two minutes between Dad leaving for breakfast (Gator was still alive) and Mom coming out of the bathroom after getting ready for work, he died. So it was very quick and apparently without pain.
And I hope it's a long time before I have to bump the other thread (the one I would have put this in if it wasn't for the hearing confusion), but Bubba, my dog, is 13. So I'm scared, although I think he'll hold up better without Gator than Gator would without Bubba.
Sorry for the novel.
I miss you, Gator. It's going to feel strange coming home and not having you there.