Well...on the couch all day contemplating a house that had 1 less dog in it.
I woke up and laid in bed for a good hour and a half thinking about Casey. I was fine. I told myself to haul ass and get out of bed and be productive to take my mind off the fact that he isn't here anymore.
So i got out of bed, and i washed my face, and i got dressed, and i walked down the stairs...
And then i lost it.
My special little boy isn't here anymore. He wasn't at the fireplace, or at the front door, or in the family room by the couch sleeping, and he wasn't in front of the washer and dryer.
He is gone. Dead. Vanished. Forever. And all we will have of him are his ashes in an ugly cement urn and a paw print.
I will tell you about putting him down, because i feel it was anything but peaceful. It took the vet (who was a total sweetheart in all honesty) 2 tries. She had trouble getting his vein and she blew it and he shot up from his laying position. It broke my heart.
"This is it," she said.
She started the injection.
And Casey shot up.
One needle wasn't enough.
It took 2 injections for him to go. And when he went he twitched in my lap.
"What the hell is this?!" i yelled.
And then his eyes flew open.
Muscle reflexes. Horrible memories for me. Trauma. My poor dog. I honestly beleive that he was so sick that he didn't care. But still: HOLY FUCK.
I kept replaying this in my head all day, and I wish i could forget. I occupied myself by cleaning the entire main floor of the house - dusting, vaccuming, cleaned the counter off and it looks fabulous. Did some laundry. Got some GORGEOUS flowers from a friend in condolensce for our loss.
I felt good all day. Emotionally better because I know Casey is in a better place where he's not in pain and he knows that we all love him and miss him.
Mum, dad and I broached the topic of getting a puppy. So soon, I know, but we've been thinking about it since before Casey got sick. Honestly, for me, i'm for it and the sooner the better. Sure, we have the girls (the Spawn and Madyson), but they're my mum's dogs. Casey was mine and my dad's. We all love the girls and they love us, but it's not the same. Casey was a big silly fur ball and when he hugged you he hugged with all of his silly self and you felt it resonate through his thick, homeless-looking coating of fur. I feel it with the girls but its different - not mine. It makes me sad. You can only squeeze and maul a cat before it screams and runs away.
The Heidi Speidi was supposed to spend the night warmly ensconsed in my room for a girls night but she found her way off my bed and shot down the stairs. She's been comforting me which is sweet. Lots of extra snuggles and kisses.
Zoey has been in her lair contemplating her contempt for the world.
Here's proof from yesterday, when I told her to look at Casey because he was sick and didn't have much time left. She just stared and shot lazers from her eyes. The cat has no soul.
Onto other things.
I'm out of stomach meds, because the stupid pharmacy is on a back order for Miraxicam or w/e the hell it's called, so my stomach frigging hurts and i feel like i need to take a big shit and can't. At my assessment Mon (which went well), they upped my dose from 1 pill 4x a day to 2 pills 4x a day, and when i brought the script in Weds night they said they'd have them the next day. Which was fine, because i had enough...
And then I ran out. So i went to the pharmacy to pick it up (thinking it would be ready) and the foreign lady informs me they are back ordered and can't get ahold of my co-ordinator to see if they can put me on something else.
They never heard back. So it's been 2 days without stomach meds and i have no appetite because my food just sits there. Blah.
What i wouldn't give for a huge fart.
And my dog back.