Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Hoarding

I have not been ready to let go of Charlie and Daisy.

Even when they were alive I knew that they were going to die - when Daisy was diagnosed with diabetes - from the first needle that I gave her - I couldn't throw one of them out. I kept every one - and I gave her 2 a day.

So from October 2010 to June 2011 I have every needle I injected her with - I hoarded them all. I also have every empty bottle of insulin that I gave her as well. I just can't throw them out - it's like if I do, I'm throwing Daisy out - it's the last bit of her that I have.

It's classic hoarding symptoms and I know it, but there it is - all the needles, packed neatly into plastic bags.

There's nothing I can do with them. I can't turn them into craft projects. I can't reuse them. I can't put them out on display. But I can't throw them out.

I have half thrown them out - they are in my office at work - I had taken them there to throw them into the huge sharps containers we have there - but they still haven't made it actually into the containers - they're still sitting in my office. And the bottles are still here at home.


When do you stop grieving? I have here with me now what is certifiably one of the cutest little dogs in the universe. I have been so lucky to have acquired him, but my life is so diametrically different than it was when I had Charlie and Daisy. Living a big dog lifestyle - and having their 2 personalities in my life - was so completely different than the life I'm living now.

I have lost a lot of things in the last couple months and will be losing a lot more in the blink of an eye, maybe tomorrow - maybe next year. There are so many things we have no control over whatsoever that change our lives completely in one second.

I totally understand why people start hoarding like on the television show that's on right now - so far I've just kept it at needles - and baby teeth, and a little bit of hair - and one small piece of poop that I found in Jackie's bed after he had died. To a true dog person - when a dog has had a problem with a shit patch - saving a bit of their poop is understandable I think.

I don't know when my new life - the life I have now without Daisy and Charlie - will start to feel normal. It doesn't feel happy yet. Even with the cutest dog in the world and the most beautiful dog in the world.

I'm not letting it affect Bubby's upbringing though - that would be cruel for him - I can't imagine how horribly sorrowful the world would be though if I hadn't brought him home directly after losing Charlie and Daisy - it would have been unbearable.

I am going to hold onto the syringes for a bit longer. And the bottles, and the piece of dog poop - and Charlies baby teeth. I need to feel like I still have a physical piece of Charlie and Daisy to hold on to.

I know also that I did the right thing in bringing Bubby in so soon after - I got a really nice poem from a friend that speaks to that - and here it is -

A dog’s last will

When human beings die They write their testament
To leave their home
And all they have
To those they love
I’d so much
If I could write
To a poor, desperate, lonely stray
I’d give my happy home
My bowl and cosy bed
My soft pillow and my toys
The so loved lap
The tenderly stroking hand
The lovely voice
The place I had in someone’s heart
The love, that at last
Helped to me find a peaceful end
Held firmly in a sheltering embrace
When I die, please don’t say
“I will never have a pet again, the loss is far too much to stand”
Choose a lonely, unloved dog
And give him MY place

This is my inheritance: the love I leave behind is all I am able to give

No comments: