2000-12-27 - 16:07:31
Merry Christmas: I lost my dog, but gained a Vladimir

I hope everyone had a merry Christmas!

As Christmases go, I think this one was in the top five for me. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday were all great ... we watched movies, went to or hosted at least three parties, ate lots and lots of food, and generally had a good time. More on that later. The first thing I want to talk about, however, is Tuesday; this year's Boxing Day was REALLY bad.

Why? Because yesterday, Tuesday, 26 December 2000, our dog Toby was put to sleep.

I know I mentioned on here how depressed I was a few weeks ago when our other dog, Adam, was found to have intestinal cancer, and they put him to sleep. He was eleven years old ... we bought him in July 1989. That's a lot of life to spend with one small being, and it really tore me up.

Toby, now ... Toby was even harder to lose. We bought him in February 1985. That's right, our dog was nearly 16 years old. He has been there for nearly all my remembered life. I tripped over him when I was 7 and he was still a half-grown pup, and broke my arm ... I used to blow bubbles for him and he'd chase them like mad ... I would take him across the street with me every day to fetch the mail. He knew a dozen tricks and always wanted to cuddle in the evenings. He was really my brother's dog, but we all loved him.

It was hard watching him get old. He became covered with noncancerous tumors ... he grew blind and nearly deaf ... he spent more and more of his day asleep. He couldn't run and play anymore. He threw his back out a few times, and got stiff and nearly lame. One of the tumors grew in front of a hind leg and got so large he could hardly put any weight on that foot. Then, Christmas Eve, he sprained one of his front legs trying to compensate.

He was too old to have the tumors removed, even when they were still small. Old dogs don't heal well from surgeries. We couldn't do anything about that ... so the offending tumor had to stay. Therefore, even if his sprained leg healed quickly, it'd just happen again. Soon. Repeatedly. And Mom said that she wouldn't let him be in pain. So ... that was the end. We all went in together and I held his head while the vet gave him the fatal shot. We all cried for about an hour. Now our house is dogless ... and there are two small mounds of earth out in the field.

This may seem like a small thing to you ... but these pets were a part of our family. I miss them. I grieve for them. And I don't think that's abnormal.

*sigh* Back to Christmas.

I got some interesting presents this year. Some clothes, a pair of shoes, two computer games (EverQuest and Lords of Magic SE), a book, candy, several other small normal gift-type things. Then, my aunt gave my brother and I gift certificates for a whale-watching tour (!!!) which looks like fun, but we have to go during the next three weeks, which is a VERY busy time for us (moving, holidays, etc.). Then, my mother gave me a sewing machine and my granny's wicker sewing box. Guess it's time for me to get domestic, and stop being such a tomboy, eh? =^)

By far my favorite present, though, was the Barbarian Lamp my mother gave me. I swear, this thing is a one-of-a-kind, and I've been told (numerous times) that nobody but me could possibly ever want it. That's fine with me, though. Let me try to describe it: The base stands a foot high or so, and a foot and a half wide. It's formed of some kind of hard resin -- it feels like porcelain to the touch, but it's solid and not breakable. It's shaped as a muscular man, wearing a turquoise loincloth and rough leather-looking boots, tied with silver. One leg is bent under him, in a crouching position, the other stretched out to one side. One arm is held up in look-at-my-bicep muscle-builder position, the other holding aloft a "torch" (the lamp globe -- about four inches in diameter). He has flowing blond hair, a gold band around his forehead, large gold gypsy-style earrings, and a strong face. Beneath him is a grey rock surface. To sum up: He is a barbarian, and he's adorable.

I have named my Barbarian Lamp "Vladimir". The name seemed to fit. I think I'll set him next to my typewriter, and use him as inspiration in my novel. *grin*

Crazy? Perhaps. But I prefer the term whimsical.