Weigh on My Mind

30 Nov

Because I know you love these “it’s all about me! me! me!” posts and because I can’t possibly force my brain to construct anything unique, witty and/or entertaining, I’m continuing today with Question Number Tres of my 30 Posts of Truthiness.

1: What is something you hate about yourself?
2: What is something you love about yourself?

Question 3: What is something you have to forgive yourself for?

In response to these questions, I’ve been typically going with my immediate gut response because, really, what could be more truthy than using a Rorschach Ink Blot Test strategy?

This particular gut response will probably be the lamest answer to one of these questions, but we all know how much you love my gut (and it’s long list of issues), so here we go.

Back in the day, when dinosaurs roamed the Earth and I had energy in abundance (oh, those were the days), my family got a dog named Licorice. We adopted Licorice when I was a wee seven or so years of age and for like fifteen years, this doggie was just the best.

She would let us dress her up in our Cabbage Patch doll clothes and even put dog treats in her mouth like a cigar and take photos.

I guess staged photos are kinda my thing…

I loved that dog even when her backyard escapes resulted in me scouring the neighborhood in my car at 2 miles per hour, dog treats in hand, screaming, “LICORICE!!!!! SNAAAAUSAGES!!!”

Let me tell you, that little dog could run, yo. It was totally ridiculous. If she got an opportunity, that dog would take off like Sarah Palin after a pack of wolves in a helicopter.

But sooner or later, life caught up with our little roadrunner and when I was away at college (away = a 30 minute drive north), Licorice got sick and eventually had to be put down.

It was horrible. And, my dear friends, something I have never forgiven myself for is making the decision not to be there when it happened.

I could have gone to the vet with her and my family. I could have given her one last snuggle. I could have whispered in her ear that it was all going to be okay.

But, instead, I cried uncontrollably in my dorm room, simply unable to force myself to attend something that I knew would just crush me. So Sissy and Dad had to take Licorice in to the vet and say their last goodbyes without me.

Was I a chicken? Absolutely. Was my behavior understandable? Maybe. Have I forgiven myself for being a complete coward in the face of a difficult situation? Not in the least.

And despite years of loving that sweet dog, part of me is convinced that she’s hanging out with her dawgs (heh heh) in dog heaven (or whatever exists for dogs when you are an agnostic), talking doggie smack talk about her loser owner who wouldn’t drive thirty minutes to give her one last snuggle.

You’d think that ten years later I would have forgiven myself for not having the strength to endure that pain. Maybe I’d feel better if she could ghost poop in my slipper or something.

Song title: Please Forgive Me by Bryan Adams

2 Responses to “Weigh on My Mind”

  1. Midori December 1, 2010 at 8:10 am #

    Weird. I had a very similar experience with my dog about a year ago. I was the only member of the family that didn’t go back to say goodbye – I sat in the car crying hysterically. If you figure out a way to make the hurt go away, please let me know.

  2. Arla-Shay December 1, 2010 at 12:25 pm #

    Well, I will gladly poo in your slipper in Licorice’s absence. Don’t worry, I won’t do it right away. It would lose its effect if you were expecting it.

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