Dog Search Day 1 & 2
So I'm not going into details.
What I thought was going to be exciting is turning out to be a gut wrenching experience. All those day dreams and hopes and aspirations about having another dog, all those things and worries I had and have about Jennifer, are beginning to repower or die an agonizing death. Those dreams about having another dog. About rescuing a dog.
Rescues want to know exactly why and how and what. They want to know how experienced you are with their breed, with dogs and with your previous ones. They want to know if you are good people and of course if you are the people for this dog and the dog for you.
GFFL grilled me and made me scared. They do not like the fact I'm in college and therefore lump me together with all the college kids who came in crying about their dead dogs and just wanted something to get them by the rest of their years in undergrad then dump the animals when they're done or find better prospects like a place to live off campus or a new place that doesn't allow dogs, or out of state or dump the animals with their parents or take them to the shelter.
I am not that college student. Or that girl.
I want a dog, because that dog could save me and I could save that dog. My parents know that know and want that for me and want a dog too.
These people keep asking me why I am the one who is handling the dog talks. And why aren't my parents involved. Why aren't my parents doing the talk? Well...I'm 19 years old. I am a legal adult and I am the one who is the most knowledgeable about breeds and did all the research into the rescues, of course keeping my parents updated.
I'm scared now that we'll not only find the right dog, but we'll not be allowed to find the right dog, because these people think I'm a horrible person. We're horrible people who didn't think things through and who don't really understand dogs.
No, I understand dogs better than they realize. And I cried harder than anybody when Jennifer died. A part of me died with her and that part of me will never ever resuscitate or live again. A part of me I invested in her and that part of me will be put into the next dog and die with the next dog and the next dog and the ones after that. And my friends. And my family, until when I die, there really won't be anything left but my body. That is loyalty. That is devotion. That is love. That is unconditional love.
Love never dies?
Untrue. Jennifer was love and she died and in her was my love and in her, it died went her last breath left her body.
That's what I have to tell them. How can I make them understand what I feel?
I feel so worried.
What I thought was going to be exciting is turning out to be a gut wrenching experience. All those day dreams and hopes and aspirations about having another dog, all those things and worries I had and have about Jennifer, are beginning to repower or die an agonizing death. Those dreams about having another dog. About rescuing a dog.
Rescues want to know exactly why and how and what. They want to know how experienced you are with their breed, with dogs and with your previous ones. They want to know if you are good people and of course if you are the people for this dog and the dog for you.
GFFL grilled me and made me scared. They do not like the fact I'm in college and therefore lump me together with all the college kids who came in crying about their dead dogs and just wanted something to get them by the rest of their years in undergrad then dump the animals when they're done or find better prospects like a place to live off campus or a new place that doesn't allow dogs, or out of state or dump the animals with their parents or take them to the shelter.
I am not that college student. Or that girl.
I want a dog, because that dog could save me and I could save that dog. My parents know that know and want that for me and want a dog too.
These people keep asking me why I am the one who is handling the dog talks. And why aren't my parents involved. Why aren't my parents doing the talk? Well...I'm 19 years old. I am a legal adult and I am the one who is the most knowledgeable about breeds and did all the research into the rescues, of course keeping my parents updated.
I'm scared now that we'll not only find the right dog, but we'll not be allowed to find the right dog, because these people think I'm a horrible person. We're horrible people who didn't think things through and who don't really understand dogs.
No, I understand dogs better than they realize. And I cried harder than anybody when Jennifer died. A part of me died with her and that part of me will never ever resuscitate or live again. A part of me I invested in her and that part of me will be put into the next dog and die with the next dog and the next dog and the ones after that. And my friends. And my family, until when I die, there really won't be anything left but my body. That is loyalty. That is devotion. That is love. That is unconditional love.
Love never dies?
Untrue. Jennifer was love and she died and in her was my love and in her, it died went her last breath left her body.
That's what I have to tell them. How can I make them understand what I feel?
I feel so worried.
posted by Chinny at
5:27 PM
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