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kuniklos
32 years old
Female
PA
Born Oct-10-1987
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Anthropology and Art History Major.
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Joined: 4-April 08
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Last Seen: 6th March 2010 - 10:26 AM
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kuniklos

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5 Mar 2010
It's been two years since I lost my girl dog, Bobo. I still take time from school on hard days when I think about her, and think about her every day. I find it hard to reconcile my dreams about her because they range from wonderful, to bitter, to absolute nightmares. I dream about her weekly still. Although it's a little easier now, I have been going through a particularly bad hump of sadness the last few weeks. I know I should take these dreams as a comfort. Seeing her in all her messy haired joy is a wonderful thing, but there are always sorrows with it.

The most constant of the dreams is basically being a ghost. No one in my family can see her but me. I can pet her, love her and give her attention. But she can never leave my mother's house. In the dream she said last night that she didn't understand why no one payed any attention to her when I was gone. No one else knew she was still there, and it broke my hear to tell her she was gone. She was sad she couldn't follow me because she would be lonely,and I was sad I always had to leave her knowing how lonely she would be.

Even when she's aware that she's no longer here in the dreams, it seems like she struggles to stay. It's not an easy thing for me to see in my dreams. I would rather she be happy, and visiting, but not merely upset about her lot and stuck. I can't seem to reconcile what this means to me. My desire to have her here coming up in an add way? Sometimes in the dreams she is sad because she can't leave the house because my mother buried her there, instead of respecting my wishes and letting me handle everything regarding my dog. I know I'm still unresolved as to how my mother handled things. I am still in college and the longer drive was just long enough for her to disrespect my wishes. I also don't believe she's actually still here in limbo.

After those dreams I feel really torn and unsure on how to feel better, what to tell myself to make me feel better.


I'm not sure what I was trying to get at with this post. I know most of us dream of our pets in many different ways. Some find comfort, some find nightmares, some find a little bit of everything.

I know I would rather dream about her in a confusing, if not sad fashion, than not at all. I try to take them at face value and just tell myself it's nice to see her, even if the situation is not always free from pain or confusion.
4 Apr 2008
My little girl died the last week in February. It's been a little over a month and I'm still mind-numbingly depressed over it. I haven't talked to it much to anyone other than my boyfriend who, besides my dog, is my best friend. He's helped me so much.

Her name is Bobo and she's my wonderful mixture of the unknowable. She's a mutt with no determinable background, and unique through and through. I was 3 years old when I found her. My first dog, Ace, was a breeding boy we rescued. Unfortunately he was aggressive so we had to give him away. At the same time my grandfather died. My mother wanted to make it up to me, so one day after she took me to Toys R Us, we stopped at the SPCA. Being as little as I was, I went into an employees only back room where I found a white, wirey haired dog with a litter of very new puppies! There was one puppy with a black mark around her tail and butt that made me giggle. She was all white except for her black butt mark, a black pathc on her eye and little black spots on her ears. I told my mom that I wanted that dog.

A few weeks later my mom took me back and told me to stay in the car. When she came out she put a blanket on my lap...that moved! Wrapped up in a soft pink blanet was 8 week old Bobo. I named her after a song I heard on a children's show I can't quite remember today. I was so happy! She was so gentle and calm, and smaller than my mother's shoe (I have a picture of this at home). She came in, claimed a pillow I put on the floor by her, took a crap on it, and fell asleep. It still makes me laugh.

I'm an only child, and it was just my mom and I. She wasn't around too much because she was always working. She worked night shift so she could be home during the day. But at night I had Bobo who traveled with me to my other family members when we weren't at hom. She was always the most well behaved dog. She was meek, loyal and completely loving. The way she daintily moved her paws up and down in a giddy fashion was her signature happy dance. When she wasn't content with you she'd turn away from you and use her peripherals. She'd wake up during the night and snoop, but when my mom said, "Go wake the kid!" She'd dash into my room and on my bed to wake me up.

She was the kind of dog you didn't need a leash for. My bus stop was at the end of my street, and my mom and her would wait for me to get off the bus and watch from our house. Bobo would run full speed down the street to meet me and then frolic around me until I got home. I used to save some of my lunch every day for her.

She was my best friend for so many years and really understood the companionship I needed. She was there when I got my first B (which was a tragic thing for a 7th grader at the time), and we there when I first fell in love and had my heart broken. She was there when my mom got cancer, and was there when she went crazy with her bi-polar disorder. And I won't even get into menopause. I can't entirely blame my miserable teen years on being a teen! She was the most precious animal I'd ever known.

I moved out when I was 18 because my relationship with my mom deteriorated. It was unhealthy for me to stay there. It got to the point where she threw away my college acceptance letters and told me I'd, "Failed at life, and will never get anywhere. No one wants you at their institution." Sadly I couldn't take her with me. I was in the same town and visited almost every single day. Leaving her was the hardest thing I had to do, but I know she'd have understood. I always came with treats and toys and lots of love. I spent whatever time I could visiting. I got my life on track, got into one of the great schools my mom prevented me from and then left for it.

During the last two years Bobo was sick. She had several tumors growing under her skin on her neck, back and sides. I am greatful they never caused her pain. She was still active and "amazingly spry" at her age. As a young dog she got sick, had a high fever, and got liver damage. Our vet said she wouldn't live to be 10. 10 years came and went, and so did 15 years, and 18 years. She had a huge heart and an amazing will. Her last few months she was up and down. She was blind in one eye, and it was harder for her to move about on colder days. The last year I was home I carried her up and down every stair in our house, when she went outside and when she came to bed with me at night. Sometimes I'd wake up early and bring her into bed so she could lick me and smack me in the face with her ears. There were moments in the last months when she couldn't walk at all. My mother would call me at school and say, "We need to put her down." I would cry, agree, and come in to spend the day with her before we took her to the vet. And every time, as soon as she heard my voice, she'd get up and walk. And then she'd be fine. We'd have made her a steak thinking it would be her last meal, she'd scarf it down happily, follow me around, wiggle her butt, and bring over a toy. We couldn't help but think maybe she was putting on the act to get me home and get a steak! ::laugh::

One day she was very lethargic and sick. I was at school and had no idea. My mother decided to make the choice without me and take her to the vet to put her down. I had resigned to do it 4 or 5 times since the summer, but she kept bouncing back. I'd never keep her in pain, but when she was happy, and bouncing? I couldn't, and neither could my mom. I prayed, often, that when she died, she would go on her own, and go peacefully. She would sleep and not be alone. I hoped my mom would be there if I wasn't home at the time. I hoped our other dog, Attila, would be with her.

I talked to her about it. I'd say, "Girl, if you're tired you can go. I want you to leave me peacefully. I don't want you to be afraid of the needle. I don't want you to be in an office. I want you to be comfortable and at home with those who love you." I think she knew and understood. When my mother wrapped her up in a blanket, just the way she had given her to me, and put her in the front seat, Bobo (according to what my mother said) curled up smaller than she had ever seen her, and died. She never made it to the vet. It makes me wonder if she knew and just let go.

However, my trust for my mother is minimal. My first gut reaction was that she had her put down, in a cold vet office, on a steel table, without me there. My mom didn't tell me until a few days later either. She called my boyfriend and told him to handle it with me. Bobo was in a freezer at the vets, and would have to wait a week to be sent with a shipment of other animal bodies. Arrangements to her body also weren't met. I wanted her privately cremated. My mom set it up, but not correctly. I told her to call the vets office, ask them if it's private, ask them where she was being cremated, and if we could be present. I am completely aware of the scams with pet crematories and I know what to look for so I don't get robbed of my little girl. My mom asked and the vet had lied. She was going to be sent with a pile of other dogs to be cremated together and the ashes would not be returned to me. They would be put into a landfill.

Thankfully my mother drove there and got Bobo's body back (the only good thing she did for this entire situation). My Aunt Lisa said I could bury her with her dogs in her yard in NY (about 4 hours from us). I love her yard and Bobo did too. I know it really shouldn't matter but she'd have been buried near two of her dog friends, Bob and Kayla, who were dogs of my Aunt's. My mother, instead, buried her in a very dank, dark, area of our year. We have a fence that goes along side our house about 3 feet from the wall. No sun reaches there and no grass grows. It's dirt and rocks. I am still VERY VERY upset about it. If I had to bury her, I wanted her in the sun, where she liked to lay. Somewhere grass grows and I could plant flowers. Somewhere nice. But she doesn't have that. I know my mom felt bad, and offered to dig her up, but that's just NOT RIGHT. I couldn't dig up my little girl for my own selfish comfort. My boyfriend was kind enough to offer to do it if I could not confront her body. Even offered to go to the crematory (had it worked out) to make sure it was her and that I got her ashes. But I would never dig her up. She was put to rest in a place not worthy of her, and somehow I will have to accept that. It's only the body left. At least my mother clipped some hair from her white and black patches for me to put in a locket.

I'm still depressed. My jaw locks in pain, I haven't slept well. Almost every night I have bad dreams where some sort of aweful, violent thing has happened to her, but she still gives me her loving expression! I have tried to set to work on her tombstone, but I can't. I can't focus on getting work done (and this is really bad for me) and I'm never happy or satisfied with anything. My boyfriend is the only one who knows this. I try not to worry anyone. I don't talk to my mom about it either. She does wrong by me very often, but I know she tried to do right as well. I know when mother's fail their children they die a little inside. She's hurting from losing Bobo too. I don't want to start the anger blame game. Bobo is gone, and I can't keep her or her body with me. Just some fur.

Very long story there, congrats if you made it! Bobo was so close and important to me. She was an old girl and had a very, very long life. I'm so glad I had her as long as I did. I only wish I could keep her forever. She has been with me almost 2 decades, and carrying on without her furry little happy dance, patched butt, and head nuzzle is hard. Even since I moved out 2 years ago it feels odd being on a computer without a furry little body to hide my feet under.

Any words of advice on how to cope is greatly appreciated. Once I have time I plan on getting some greif counseling from my school. Not being able to sleep well, nightmares, constant exhaustion, depression and being unhappy with life in general is weighing on me. It's weighing on my great boyfriend too! He gets sad and feels helpless when he can't protect me. I want to feel normal again and I don't want anyone to worry. Once I am in a single place and have the time, I most certainly want to rescue a dog. I babysat one for a week over spring break, and it eased my heart a little being about to make a dog wag.

I miss my little girl very much. My icon is of her during her last summer. And the picture in my signature are of her and I over the summer before we went for a walk together, and the other on a boating trip when I was about 6 years old.

Bobo is irreplaceable. I'll never find a dog so giving and loving and pure spirited like her again.

I hope this makes sense. It was hard to type. I haven't talked or typed about everything.
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