So when my parents came down this week they told me they've given my dog away. Like already. With no notice. :( They'll be going away for 3 months at the end of the year and I don't have the money or space to have him down here with me, and my landlord doesn't allow pets besides, kennels are expensive for 3 months, and he's gone to a good home - a lady nearby who recently had her dog die and her 2 sons are going away to university in September so she'll be on her own, and she walked him 4 miles home so he'll get out a lot - currently with my mum looking after my 2 year old nephew 2 days a week he gets shut up at home a lot, but still...
To clarify, whatever you might think, and going by the incoming twitter messages there appears to be an onus i should do, i don't hate my parents right now, possibly because i don't want to think about that part in detail or i might. what i hate is that the animal that has been with me since i was 13, that when i was really messed up in the head, and hating the world, i would go downstairs and sit on the floor and hug him and he would lick me, is gone. And unlike people, he always seemed to understand that I didn't want distractions at those points, i didn't want to have to play with him, or deal with his mischief, of have him insist upon tummy rubs, he'd sit there for hours on end and do the closest thing a dog can do to hugging you back for as long as i needed it. It seems stupid, but the comfort, and understanding a dog can bring you is something you can't properly explain except to those who have also owned dogs.
I haven't been at home in any real way except for occasional intervals for 5 years now, and I'm sure the lady will let me visit him if I asked, but I wasn't prepared for this. He was my dog, and every time when I went home my parents would comment how he'd suddenly have so much more energy and appear visibly happier, and every time I left, he'd mope for days. Who knows whether dogs have a sense of time, and how much of our world they understand, but they understand enough to know certain things, to always be the mischievous runt around me and lie down next to me whilst I watched films and sleep, just because I was home and he could be next to me. Even though he probably spent a lot more time actually being looked after by my parents, he knew who he belonged to, and he always ran straight for me whenever he saw me, and that's why I miss him already. That's why I'm crying. Because for once, I can't sit in the middle of the floor and hug my dog whilst I hate everything else around me and know he'll never make me hate him, and he'll always be there when I need him. I was kinda prepared for him to get sick and die, he was 11 years old, but this just plain sucks.
When I started thinking about all this song came on. And it seemed like the perfect description of the moment
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