30 November, 2009

To my Abbie




It was like she chose us, and as cliche as that sounds, it was almost serendipitus the way she entered our lives. Tired and disappointed from a day of puppy searching at the local shelters, my family and I had accepted defeat and given up, but then out of nowhere there she was. A happy, bounding, white ball of energy on her way back into the shelter. Jenny, her name at the time, was about to re-enter the Salem Animal Shelter because her owner realized she didn't have the time to care for her, but lucky for her she was quickly scooped up and accepted into the Angelo family. Now, when you're an Angelo dog you are no longer just a dog, you are a new and welcomed member of the family. You are spoiled and loved like any other human child. We are no "speciests" in my household, if you are alive you are loved.


Jenny became Abbie, and even on the car ride home, we realized that we were in for one hell of a puppy stage. She had endless amounts of energy and always seemed to be chewing on something, especially my hand. She had many accidents in the house, but lucky for us she was smart, most likely due to her Border Collie genes. Soon enough she was trained, and joined by two other massive, fluffy white dogs. We were a family, dogs and all.


Two days before Thanksgiving I received a call from my mother informing me of her deteriorating state. Coombs disease, she said. While I was concerned, I was very optimistic. She was only nine years old, all the Angelo dogs have lasted until they were at least fifteen. Abbie was sick, not dying, and this "wonder pill," as it was so called, would fix her. With no real doubts in my mind, I hung up the phone and kept my dog-sister in my thoughts.


Thanksgiving came and only then did the doubts start to come. Our once very energetic, alpha dog lay motionless and tired on her bed. I sat with her for a while, gently petting the graying fur on her face, hoping to somehow psychically take away her pain and make her better. The bones on her head, which I had never felt before, were very apparent, and obviously due to very rapid weight loss from the disease. My own dog, Valo, must have sensed something was wrong because even in her excited, puppy romp, she avoided touching Abbie when she was usually the first dog to get a big dose of Valo in the face. But still, even with the minor doubts I was feeling after seeing her, I still kept an optimistic view on the whole situation. The "wonder pill" will work, no worries. So as Corey and I left for his parents, I realized I had forgotten to say goodbye to the dogs, which is my normal routine. I thought of Abbie, and for a brief second hoped it wasn't the last chance I had. No, everything will be fine and I will visit on the weekend just to be sure she's feeling better.


But only a mear 24 hours later, that wasn't the case. She had died the day after Thanksgiving surrounded by my family. I know most people think, "Oh it's just a dog," but not to me. No dog I've ever owned was just a dog, they were my family, someone I loved with the same intensity I have for any other human being. Her death leaves an empty hole in my heart just as it would if I had lost anyone else. I feel guilty for not saying goodbye, something I do every time I go to my parents. What possessed me to break routine then? Still, I am happy she is no longer in pain. The disease crippled her, made her into a dog I could not bare to see suffer. Though in my selfish heart, I wish she had more time. Nine is much too young for a dog to die.


So this is my memorial to my dog, my sister, who, though she is no longer living, will always be in my thoughts. I will still love her everyday my soul is alive, with the same intensity I had while she was alive. I love you, Abbie, and I'll see you again someday.

25 November, 2009

Thankful.

I just discovered new features to my little blog thing. You can now "follow" my blog... so totally do that all 8 of you :) Kay?

I have so many things in my life that I am incredibly thankful for. Here's just a few:

• Corey... for being my constant companion, for not giving up on me, for making me feel beautiful and loved... and for caring about me.

• Ali... for being my sister, best friend and a reason to keep on living.

• My friends... for always making me feel loved, beautiful and cared about.

• My family... for always loving me, listening to me, helping me and always supporting me in my decisions, even if they don't agree.

• My band... for being my creative outlet and for allowing me to be a part of such a crazy, fun and intense rollercoaster ride.

• My dog and cat... for being excited to see me every single day, and for all of the unconditional love they have for me.

• My car... for holding up quite nicely :)

• My job... even though we have our disagreements, I'm glad you're still deciding to pay me.

• The internet... for being my remedy for boredom and for helping me connect and reconnect with so many amazing people.


I hope you all know how much you mean to me. Every nice word, every joke, every hang out provides me with what I need to continue on every day. I appreciate everything everyone has done and said, and I make sure I give you all back everything you give me. You all mean the world to me.

Happy Thanksgiving :)

05 November, 2009

Wow.

I've spent a lot of time reading over my past journal entries. Not the ones in this journal, but the OLD ones... like high school and college ones. I can't believe how much has changed. As I was reading I was tempted to leave myself a comment or two, like maybe somehow it would travel through time and reach my past self. The journals made me realize how many mistakes I have made, and how much I have learned from them, for the most part. Even in just the past few years I have grown and molded myself into such a completely different person, and hopefully with the help of my past self, I will never make those mistakes again. I found myself becoming aggravated at the past Sam, wanting to yell through time and somehow make her hear me. I made SO MANY stupid, stupid mistakes. I wasted so much time on things that I could never, ever change, and made promises that I never fulfilled. I found myself feeling bad for past me, feeling angry with her. Why didn't she listen to anyone? Why didn't she listen to her own instincts? Why didn't she ever just relax? But damn, in a sense, I'm glad I went through all that. I needed to because now, at the ripe old age of 23, I feel like maybe I have actually learned my lesson. "Seeing" me going through all of the mental struggles has made me never, ever want to put myself in those kind of positions ever again. And if somehow my comments made it through time to the past Sam, my entire world would be different... and as much as I complain now I really don't know if I want my life to be so dramatically altered from what it is right now. Yes, there are some things I wish I had not done, and some that I wish I had, but who knows what kind of person I would be today if those wishes had come true.

I think what I'm realizing now, and have been for the past few entries, is that I really am in control of my own life. I can make all the dreams I have come true, and I am the only person who can allow myself to experience real happiness. It's obvious from my past entries that I become blinded by all the bad in my life which makes it almost impossible to see the good all around me. Only until later down the road do I stop and realize all the good that was there the whole time unbeknownst to me. I am still young, I still have so much to experience, and I shouldn't be wasting any second of any of my days left on this earth wallowing in my own self pity. The world is full of good and bad, things always get better, and you never, ever know what is right around the corner. Life is exciting, full of surprises, and I really am excited to see what is in store for me.