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2007-11-10, 11:08 p.m.

~~98-07~~

Mood: Content

We had to put Fleetwood down the other day. And when I say 'we', I mean my parents. I had no issue with him being put to sleep. He was sick and in pain. However, I didn't find out until about 10 hours later.
I don't deal well with death. Human, animal, even insect. I don't want it if it's going to personally affect me. I am interested in death if it's out of my personal circle, so to say... But if it comes close, I cry and beat myself up for however long I deem appropriate. I was fine with Fleetwood being gone. I cried when I was told, but that seemed to be about it. Until I came home for the first time since he was put down. Hank and Peaches are depressed. My mom is upset. There are only two dog bowls instead of three. Nothing is growling at me when I open the fridge. His box of ashes are sitting on the table with a bronze plaque stating his name, birth and death dates. I miss my big black bear.
And to make things worse? The cremation people included a packet of information with his ashes. I was the first to open this packet. It contained a booklet on coping with loss, a receipt, and a DVD. An unlabeled, white, DVD. I'm curious. I assume it details how to take care of your pet's remains, or how to tell the children that Fluffy in fact didn't go to live on Uncle Jim's farm in Wisconsin. So I stick the disc into my computer. I hit play... And it shows Fleetwood lying on a steel table, dead, in a red room. I shut off the screen and pull the power source from the cpu. I am instantly reduced to screaming, swearing, crying, and stuttering...A state I reserve strictly for highly traumatic things. After yelling at Ralph for a couple of minutes, he informs me that they have to make those for legal purposes...

Drew is here now.
But to conclude... I'm really upset. I hate when my puppies die.

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