anyway, if you follow this blog you may also know I've been getting into doctor who, and may have gleamed a few things. See, Colin Baker is my fav actor to ever play the Doctor.
The 6th doctor is not my fav doctor, he's a bit of a prick, but at least he's not as drearily boring as 5; but the character and actor are different people, and Colin Baker is my fav actor to ever play the Doctor.
Anyway
He made a tweet today
or rather
retweeted one
bout a guy named Bob
See Bob is 87
he's got a dog
friendly looking smaller dog. maybe a shih tzu?
Bob lives in a nursing home
The residents of the home like the dog
but, from what I gather, the rules do not allow dogs
so Bob has chosen to keep the dog
and so the home has decided to kick Bob out of his home
Now lets step back for a moment and get some context of me.
This is a pic of my pets.
It's actually a spiral. It starts with Buddy, my dog. Above him is Kwikie, my cat. Beside him is Scout, also my cat. And below her is Boo, also my cat.
Scout was the one out of all 4 that 'loved' me most. She was always there when I needed a soft cat to pet, and would come see me if I was sick or feeling down, and would rush to meet me in the morning when I came home from the night shift working security. Scout was great.
Scout got cancer.
My roommate and I kept scout home and gave her medicine and fed her by hand when needed and generally tried to keep her well.
Eventually she had enough. One early morning, about 5am, my roommate told me that it was time. I went over to scout who was lying on the floor, meowing, barely audible. Scout was leaving us.
Se stayed with her. petting her. telling her we were here, and that we loved her.
When she'd be silent for a moment I'd listen to her heart to see if she had left us, but she held on for quite a long time.
Then, she seized up at one moment and spasmed.
She was having a heart attack
Then
She stopped
Silence
I listened to her heart
there was no more heartbeat.
There are very few moments in my life that have impacted me more, emotionally, than that.
I lost my Scout.
My roommate had to leave the room. I think they had a cry.
Boo came by, and I grabbed him and brought him over to scout. he had a sniff. looked up at me and meowed. I told him I was sorry, and then he seemed a bit sad and walked away. He knew.
I know that cats can mourn, and I wanted him to know she had passed so he wouldn't spend eternity wondering where she was.
My roommate had given me a wicker basket. I put Scout into it. As I did some air came out of her lungs for a moment and it sounded like she meowed. That was hard. But I got her into the basket, and my roomie and I got dressed for the outdoors and went to the vets.
I gave the vet the basket. Told the vet that I was as certain as I could be that Scout had passed, but, that I was not a doctor, and that I wanted a doctor to confirm this. It was confirmed.
I've had pets
I know how close you can grow to pets.
This was in 2014. Prior to that the last time I had cried was in 2004. 2014 was the only time in the past decade I really cried.
now I want to switch context gears for a moment to speak about how I feel about "emotions"
in short, fuck em.
http://thenewteddy.blogspot.ca/2017/02/fuck-your-shit-emotions.html
http://thenewteddy.blogspot.ca/2016/11/shut-up.html
crying once a decade, maybe even once a year; that's fine. Crying is a big deal, if you are crying weekly, seek medical help,
The same is true for other extreme emotions. If you are bursting in anger more than, say, 2 or 3 times a year, you need help.
Where is this all going?
Simple.
What good does being homeless do to you and your dog?
Why would you want to make your dog homeless because of your emotions?
You serve nothing 'good' by doing this.
Give the dog to someone who can care for it better than you can.
So, with apologies to Colin Baker, I respectfully disagree.
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