I am apart of a cruel act that has been going on for a week now.
My dog has been suffering. I have been wanting to put him out of his misery. Why havent I? Several not okay reasons. I dont want him to die. That’s my baby.
The main factor is my Thai mother. My mother will not allow him to be put down. She is a devoted Buddhist. She truly believes it is wrong to kill him or any animal.
* * * Currently sitting on an airplane waiting to depart from Boise, ID, to Seattle, WA. My eyes are burning and sore. I have a tension headache to my right temporal lobe and my heart has taken leave. In its place a steel toe boot is kicking the shell of what was there. Dramatic, but pretty accurate, figuratively.
When I was a little girl, my daddy promised me two things. One, that we would go to Disney World. Two, when we moved to America, after a year we would get a dog.
I had to wait till I was eight to go to Disney World. Five years later we moved to America. As promised, a year later I got my puppy.
Lucky and I grew up together. When we first met he was pulling on a dandelion and fell right into my hands and smiled.
“Found my dog!” I said to my dad.
I was so eager to be with him that the breeder allowed us to take him home at three weeks old.
Late nights of him whimpering. Piss stained sheets and chewed up shoes became the norm.
Frustration would occur, but I didn’t care. He was my dog. He followed me everywhere. As Lucky became an adult, I was becoming a teenager.
The attention ratio was not in Luckys favor. He was always ecstatic to see me. Unforuantly, Lucky became apart of the background.
Once I was 18, I would move back overseas. Coming in and out of the U.S. for a number of years.
A dogs love truly is unwavering. Once I moved back home I was still to busy for fetch or belly rubs.
Every place I lived did not allow dogs. Honestly even if I did find a place, my mother would fight me to the death before letting me take Lucky away from her. Despite his favoritism.
Now I am an adult and my baby is no longer that. No, he is an old man. Who doesn’t eat. Throws up every ounce of water he swallows. He can’t even get up to go outside. Which means he soils himself and can barely move away from it.
* * *
Before leaving for the airport, I went to see my poor boy who could no longer greet me at the door with his wagging tail. Lucky was laying on the cold tile floor waiting to die.
That was it. I could no longer be a part of this kind of torture. I bawled. Laying my head on his side. I made the choice to end this. I was sobbing on the phone while making his final appointment. I was still being selfish…I did not have the courage to do it myself. I tried to get my father to do it.
Sadly, come to find out, Lucky was not taken in. My dog was still being tortured, while I was in Belltown, WA getting drunk. When I get back to Boise, the suffering will end.
In life there will be times where you must choose the lesser of two evils. The pain I feel will surpass. Lucky’s pain will not.