Goodbye, River

I missed a call on the 3rd from a friend that usually doesn't call, so I knew something serious was going on. My immediate thought was, "It's either [abusive ex-boyfriend] or River." The former because she's my ex's brother's ex (that's how we met!), but still has occasion to see him sometimes, since she goes to his favorite bar sporadically; and the latter because I rehomed River with her two years ago.

That's right. I said before how I had to make the right choices with respect to her when I was in Indiana. I did my best to do the same once I moved to Seattleish. And there reached a point where I was working so much and my commute was so long that she was locked up/alone for far more than is fair for any dog, let alone one with her energy level. These are the two last pictures I took of her when she still lived with me:

I thought she was making funny faces at me at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was pretty much the only face she was making anymore.

She was miserable. And even though it wasn't really a fault of mine, it was my responsibility to do something about it. 

Mina, the friend I mentioned above, was working as a bartender at the time, and thus had hours far more conducive to spending quality time with River every day. River adored her (she's actually one of the few females River was clingy with- she usually gravitated towards dudes when I had people over, but she always hovered around Mina when she visited with that ex-kinda-brother-in-law), and she adored River, and was really good with animals and had a great head on her shoulders about them (even worked at a pet store every now and then to help her friend, the owner, out). 

So when I posted something about finding a new home for River on Facebook and Mina responded, I jumped on it- I knew River would be happy (once she got over me leaving her), loved, and well cared for.

So I did it. It was a million times harder and more painful than leaving that abusive ex. But I did it, because it was the best thing for her. My living situation/lifestyle was unfair to her, and I had to make the right choice as a parent. I couldn't take care of her anymore, not in the way she deserved and needed. And I knew Mina could and would.

I was a mess for a few weeks after- I spent maybe one or two nights at home alone because it hurt so much to not have her in bed with me. Instead, I spent as much time at my boyfriend's, or him at mine, as I could possibly muster.

Ironically, due to happenstance, I ended up moving in with them a few months later as I waited for my his lease to be up so he and I could move in together. 

And boy was she salty at first. Which is classic River. LOOK AT THIS FACE, THIS IS THE FACE OF UTTER DISDAIN:

In the background, there, you can see Kashyyyk, the puppy one of the other peeps at the house got not too long after I moved in. River was so good with him, it was adorable to see them together. But anyway, I took this one day as I was trying to get her to join me on the couch. She refused. Which says a lot about how hurt she was, given the plethora of pictures my Facebook had been loaded with of her literally laying on top of me. 

It took her almost half a year to deign to sit next to me, and one night that Mina was out of town and I tried to get River to sleep in my room, she wouldn't. Even after moving out, I'd come over to spend time with Mina (and River!!!), and she'd let me pet her and stuff, but she wouldn't sit next to me (let alone on me). And she wasn't nearly as enthusiastic about me showing up than she'd been when I'd get home before rehoming her, nor as she'd get when guests, even ones she was familiar with, would show up.

In other words, I don't think she ever forgave me. And even though I know I did the right thing, and that Mina was the absolute best dog mom I could have found, that will always hurt. She had been my baby girl, the entire center of my world, and she remained bitter about me giving her up. And no, I don't blame her for this- honestly, her ability to act so human was one of the things I'll always love about her. 

So that phone call on the 3rd. I returned it, and Mina told me that River had an inoperable tumor. That she was in a lot of pain. That the best thing was to let her go, and she, Mina, wanted me there, and that River probably would, too.

So I dropped everything and went. To hell with social distancing.

When I got there, she was an entirely different dog. She looked ten years older, with grey hair and patches where she was almost bald. The tumor was in her stomach area, and while I had thought she had just grown chonky (which is apparently what Mina and her usual vet thought at first, too), it was actually the tumor itself, collecting all of her blood. And as I got closer, I could tell- the rest of her was rail thin and waif-like, but her torso was huge. Her eyes were the saddest I'd ever seen them. Her movement was slow and ginger, like every step hurt. 

This is my last picture of her.

I don't know if she could tell she was dying, or if it was the painkillers she was on, but she was a lot more willing to receive affection and attention from me. I hope it was more like she was willing to put the pain I put her through aside and accept the love I was trying to show her. It's selfish, but I'm grateful for it. I wouldn't be surprised if it was because she sensed I needed that. She was always good at telling what her hoomans needed.

We spent some time together, Mina and I going back and forth between hugging each other and crying and hugging River and crying, and eventually, it came time to take her. My boyfriend had arrived by then, and I asked him to drive, since God knows I wouldn't be able to. He did so, a fucking champ and hero, and I would not have made it through all of that without him.

They let Mina and me be with her. And even when in immense pain, even when barely there, she was still....

Just so River.

To start, the first dose of anesthesia wasn't enough. Just when Mina and I thought she was asleep, the nurse knocked and she grunted in the way she did when she was annoyed, her, "Ex-CUSE me, sir/madam?" We laughed.

Then, even once asleep, the nurse could not find her vein to insert the catheter- just so damn stubborn! This also brought a few chuckles. The vet had to do it, and even she seemed to have more trouble than she wanted to admit.

And then, she was gone. Mina and I stayed with her after it was over for a good twenty minutes. And as we were walking out...

...I could smell one of her dank farts. As if she was saying goodbye with style, a style particular to her.

And it made me laugh, through the tears. Through the sobs I was shaking with, I laughed. 

And that, that was River. 

She was silly. She was goofy. She was sweet. She was exceptionally empathetic. 

And she crop dusted with the skill of a stealth assassin.

She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. This is her in that same sweater, the first one I ever got her:

I'm so, so grateful she and Mina found each other. One of the comforts I've taken in this, and something I remind Mina of when she needs it (and Mina, if you're reading this, I mean it), is that her time with Mina was filled with joy and love. Mina fell in love with her just as I had, and cared for her as if River was her own kid, too. She, too, made sacrifices for River's sake, because she was being the best parent she knew how. River loved her, so much, and it was obvious to anyone who didn't know her, and especially obvious to me, someone that knew her so well. I saved River once, but when I was failing her, Mina saved her again.

River was one of the best things to have ever happened to me. I'm having a hard time finishing this in a cohesive way, but I think the best I can do is say I'll always miss her. I had to say goodbye once, and while at first, I thought that made this easier, I think I was kidding myself.

Because it hurts. It hurts so much. 

I've gone back and read old posts in which she features heavily, and they've made me laugh. If you're interested, check these out, too:

About a month after she came home with me.

She used to make me feel better.

River poopin'.

I was lucky to have her.

I talk here a bit about cuddling with her in bed.

She managed to make a super deep moment for me hilarious. 

Fighting with mosquitos while waking your dog is rough, yo.

River hears neighbors banging (not on doors) and gets confused. 

Again, River helped me choose happiness. 

Goodbye, River. You were the perfect dog for me. I'm sorry I couldn't be the perfect mom for you. I did my best, and even though it hurt you, I had to do right by you. So I'm happy you found Mina- she was the best mom you could have had once I let you down. We'll both always love you. 

I'm glad the pain is gone. Do lots of zoomies in the clouds, and roll around on your back as much as you want now.

But don't stink up heaven too much with your flatulence, ok? No innocent look will get you off the hook, young lady!

I stand corrected. 

I love you, River. Goodbye, sweet girl.

Song Challenge Day 10: A Song That Makes You Sad

Sorry, y'all, but since day 10 is "A song that makes you sad," today's entry in this song challenge is going to be kind of depressing. I'm going to go ahead now and say

Content Warning: Suicide

I'm going with this one; this is the official music video, but for the full version, go here. As a small aside, I never understood why Amos looks... turned on? during the video, given 1) the subject matter, and 2) how sad/emotional she sounds in the recording.

You can probably guess if you know me or have followed my blog for a while, but this song makes me think of my dad for myriad reasons. No, we didn't have ice and snow everywhere in Las Vegas when I was growing up (although yes, we did actually go to indoor ice skating rinks sometimes), and I never needed mittens. But a few things aside from it being about the relationship between a father and child, things from the general to the specific, make this song hit me hard.

-The general melancholic sound, and the regretful tone and implication from the lyrics as a whole, parallel my feelings about Dad. I regret never repairing the damage that had been done, bridging the gap that opened when he and my mom got divorced. It is a wound I will carry until I die, and I know there was nothing I could have done, not really- he made his own choices, and they led to his untimely death. But I'll always wonder, what would have happened if I had reached out? What if I had tried to help him in that last year or two? Etc. And this line of questioning will haunt me the rest of my life. Thinking of Dad can sometimes lead to a smile, but it still more often than not just makes me sad. So, too, does the song, then.

-The path the music follows parallels the trajectory of Dad's decline. It starts subtle, gets more and more profound, reaches a high point of drama and bombast, and then fades away. Dad's end started when I was a teenager, as his drinking gradually increased and his behavior became more and more erratic and toxic. At its worst, its peak, he ended his life in the most violent way possible, a gun to the head. And in the aftermath, he didn't even have a memorial service because the way in which he died was too traumatic for his mom or sister (the latter of which found him) to hold one. It's objectively sad (as objective as "sad" can be, anyway), and ultimately, the way the song ends reflects the way my dad's story ended- quietly, nigh imperceptibly. 

-The line in the chorus, "When you gonna love you as much as I do?" basically speaks for itself. I never stopped loving him, and I wish to God he had loved himself enough to not do what he did. Half. If he had loved himself half as much as I did, as I do, he very well may be here still. And I think that's one of the parts that makes it hurt the most. That he was in so much pain, had that much hate for himself and his life, that he felt the best course was to end it. The Dad that broke his toe to avoid stepping on and snapping my Barbie in half. The same Dad that kept me home from school to play video games with him. The same Dad that loved me so much he refinanced his house to help me pay for college. It breaks my heart over and over to think of it.

-"So many dreams on the shelf...You say I wanted you to be proud of me." Of course I wanted him to be proud. And as he started fading, it seemed harder and harder to do. There was one instance where I felt I let him down completely: During my sophomore year, I was accepted into an exchange program with American University in D.C. to study government and civics, and I was also offered an internship in then-Senator Harry Reid's D.C. office for the duration of the exchange. In the end, despite my dean of students personally talking to my college's financial aid as well as American University's, our family just couldn't afford it because AU was that much more expensive and that much more stingy with financial aid. So, I declined both offers. And I remember one evening, my first break home after the decision, where Dad, having been drinking, told me how disappointed he was that I didn't go, and how sorry he was that we couldn't find a way to afford it. He didn't blame me specifically, but I felt like by not agreeing to triple my loans in order to make it possible, I had disappointed him more than anyone else ever had. He said he wanted me to do great things, knew I could, if I "just tried." He was sure I would be super successful someday, and someday soon, and not going to D.C. made him question that assertion, out loud and in front of me, no less. And it always felt to me that that conversation was the tipping point where he started to disdain me, too. And I'll forever wonder what would have happened between us if I had worked it out somehow, had taken more loans to cover living expenses and food and had actually gone to D.C. (never mind the different path my career could have taken). I gave up on that dream, and it disappointed him. This is just one example, but overall, considering I'm still working retail and in school, I have no doubt he'd still be disappointed in me, at least a little. And that makes me feel gross about myself.

I could go on, but I'm so damn sick of being sad, I need to end this post now. But yeah, "Winter" is my go-to "I-wanna-be-sad" song. I miss my Dad. I regret how things ended. My mind and heart are awash with a million "what-if"s. I miss my Dad. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for so many things I could have done differently. I know I can't change them, but if I could, I would. 

Song Challenge Day 9: A Song That Makes You Happy

Back again. Day 9, "A song that makes you happy."

I'm going with a song I've honestly never heard on the radio, but that's been in a bunch of movies and shows, one you've probably heard yourself and have no idea who it's by or what it's called. 

To my shame, I've never bothered listening to anything else by Rusted Root who, apparently, were quite prolific before going on hiatus. 

So anyway, this song is super peppy and Cheery. It may not have much in terms of lyrical complexity, but it just brings sunshine into the room whenever it's playing. And it doesn't sound like it's trying too hard, which I think is why it doesn't annoy me. I mean, I can't listen to more than one ABBA song without wanting to puke, but this can play on a loop. It's relaxed, pleasant. 

There are a lot of sad songs out there, and a lot of reasons to be sad right now. This song is a great one to lift the spirits. 

Day 8: A Song About Drugs or Alcohol

Alrighty, day 8, "A song about drugs or alcohol."

I went back and forth over a lot of options, but I think I have to settle on this one, here:

"Roc Boys" is one of Jay-Z's songs inspired by the film American Gangster, on the album of the same name. (For unedited, click here.) I highly recommend both the film and the album it inspired. 

Given the premise of the film, and how Jay-Z was basically remaking the movie in his music, yeah, this song is about drugs- specifically the selling of them, and riding the success thereafter. 

And while no, I obviously don't condone drug rings, this song is ridiculously catchy, and I love it. I don't think I've made a mix CD since I bought the American Gangster album that doesn't include "Roc Boys" on it (and I make them every few months).