SeanCharles
Diamond Member
In a post earlier, it was the ADHD/PTSD, I mentioned a dog that I never mentioned previously. I just realized in the course of previous grief work, this has been a personal loss that because of parental decision that never got any closure or rather a proper closure.
My mom had been given a dog, an Australian Shepard, who had been through trauma previously. As rough as I was on that dog, this dog showed me unconditional love at a very crucial time that I needed a guardian/companion. I don't remember my exact age although what I did and why I do remember at least in a somewhat fragmented memory.
I had finally mastered bike riding without training wheels. I was able to get down the dirt driveway which I did. Upon fighting literally with a hill, I opted to to follow the fork in the road and followed that road for a distance. Before I get ahead of myself here, the season was fall and winter was soon around the corner as the temperature was dropping in the evening. Me and this dog (Mitzi) went quite a distance before I got disoriented and I had strayed far from home.
For hours my parents had worried as I had not come home and the weather was dropping. I was not dressed for the temperature change and had begun suffering from hypothermia. This teenager who was into the 'CB' had seen me ride by their house earlier that evening when I became the a topic of the chatter set out on his motorcycle to go see if he could find me. He did! He had found me and I was returned home safe, and not exactly sound as I was shivering uncontrollably. My bike, and Mitzi did make it back too.
In 1984ish, or earlier, My mom and dad (stepdad for those who don't the story which I will be working on a post about that is not yet written) had bought a house that I had stayed in when my bio father lived in town until he moved to Florida,because my bio father had married the previous owner and she was selling the house.
My parents had bought this house and had made quite a few changes to that since they purchased it and I even had received a bedroom and like my parents, was given a waterbed!
By this time, Mitzi was up in age, and my mom and dad had made the decision to have her put down. While I was at school a vet came by and that was that!
The five Stages of grief:
While this post was mainly for Mitzi, I felt that doing the contrast/comparison was quite necessary and helpful to me since I am in the reflection process I am experiencing and figured that since I lost Sheba in 2014, I wanted to see a then and now comparison.
My mom had been given a dog, an Australian Shepard, who had been through trauma previously. As rough as I was on that dog, this dog showed me unconditional love at a very crucial time that I needed a guardian/companion. I don't remember my exact age although what I did and why I do remember at least in a somewhat fragmented memory.
I had finally mastered bike riding without training wheels. I was able to get down the dirt driveway which I did. Upon fighting literally with a hill, I opted to to follow the fork in the road and followed that road for a distance. Before I get ahead of myself here, the season was fall and winter was soon around the corner as the temperature was dropping in the evening. Me and this dog (Mitzi) went quite a distance before I got disoriented and I had strayed far from home.
For hours my parents had worried as I had not come home and the weather was dropping. I was not dressed for the temperature change and had begun suffering from hypothermia. This teenager who was into the 'CB' had seen me ride by their house earlier that evening when I became the a topic of the chatter set out on his motorcycle to go see if he could find me. He did! He had found me and I was returned home safe, and not exactly sound as I was shivering uncontrollably. My bike, and Mitzi did make it back too.
In 1984ish, or earlier, My mom and dad (stepdad for those who don't the story which I will be working on a post about that is not yet written) had bought a house that I had stayed in when my bio father lived in town until he moved to Florida,because my bio father had married the previous owner and she was selling the house.
My parents had bought this house and had made quite a few changes to that since they purchased it and I even had received a bedroom and like my parents, was given a waterbed!
By this time, Mitzi was up in age, and my mom and dad had made the decision to have her put down. While I was at school a vet came by and that was that!
The five Stages of grief:
- Denial - I never felt any denial towards her death because I knew then as I do now as I look back at her life that, much like Sheba's death, I knew she was gone!
- Anger - Oh hell yes! Loads of anger because of what my parents did, denying me a proper closure of a close and dear dog.
- Bargaining - Nope! I had no need to bargain with anyone, Mitzi being put sleep was the right thing for my parents to do.
- Depression - I am not really sure here whether I experienced any depression or not because of her death, I don't think so. In terms of Sheba's death I did have some depression issues because unlike Mitzi, Sheba was my emotional rock.
- Acceptance - In terms of Mitzi, I have for the longest time accept that she was gone. In terms of Sheba's death, I fully accepted her death, as I had found Sheba dead when I hadn't seen her in awhile and was wondering where she was. I found her dead in the bathroom.
While this post was mainly for Mitzi, I felt that doing the contrast/comparison was quite necessary and helpful to me since I am in the reflection process I am experiencing and figured that since I lost Sheba in 2014, I wanted to see a then and now comparison.
