In my last entry, I told you all about how sick my dear dog Frankie has been.
Almost two weeks ago, I had to put him down. He was coughing non-stop and I knew he was in pain. This was after spending most of December and all of January sleeping out on the couch with him. Near the end, we were only getting 3-4 hours sleep at a time. That was about how long his pain meds would last before he would start coughing again. I went through all of “Buffy the Vampire” on Netflicks and most of “How I met your Mother.” I also knit a lot of hexipuffs. I am already up to 101. It was a good project for me, it required very little brain power, but all the color changes kept me from completely losing my mind.
I’m not sure what I did the Wednesday after I put Frankie down, or for that matter Thursday. I know I slept a lot.
By Friday, I was online looking at ads for little doggies. I should say right now, DH really didn’t want us to get another dog. He is sick of walking them, but he was willing to bend if I would get a small dog, but he really wanted me to wait a bit. I told him that I would wait, but at that point I had already answered an ad on Craig's list, and agreed to meet one owner in Park Slope on Saturday.
"Just me look at this one, if he's not right, I will wait a few weeks."
The ad said that they were getting rid of small, white Pomeranian and his name was Luca. The dog I met on Saturday was reddish blonde, 22 pounds, and then the people told me he was 2 years old. They also hit me up for a re-homing fee of $---. For some damn reason, I gave them $--- and took the oversized dog home with me.
"Was it grief? Was it the bad vibe I got off them? Was it hormones? Was it that my entire life I have never been able to wait for things?" Maybe it was just a bad combination, but something inside me said, “You should take him, he needs you.” At the very least, the people who brought him to me gave me the creeps, so I wanted to get him away from them. "Crazy?"
"Yah, I know, but I have already admitted to that."
When I got him home his collar said Gismo on it. WTF?
Also DH was really annoyed when I got home, because the dog was so big, he wanted a small dog that would use wee-wee pads, not a big dog that would have to be walked. On Sunday, I ended up calling the number in Long Island, because as much as I liked the little guy I knew I couldn’t live with myself not knowing what his real history was. I found out that I had been scammed. The people that brought me the dog, weren’t the actual owners, they had got him for free, and then placed an ad on Craig’s List asking for a re-homing fee. The dog was actually 6 years old, and the real owner, would take him back if I needed her to. They were getting rid of all their dogs, because the owner's mother-in-law had gotten sick.
At this time, I ALMOST thought about giving him back. I was feeling ICKY from being scammed, and DH was still pretty annoyed with me. I was also feeling overwhelmed by everything that had gone on, and I had taken to spending time in the shower, so that I could weep openly. "God, I love the shower."
Thankfully, I decided to check in with breast cancer group on Ravelry. I told them that "I wasn't sure I was going crazy or not, but I put my dog, down, adopted another dog and was crying all the time."
One of the women reminded me that sometimes tamixofen causes depression & mood swings, and that maybe should call my oncologist and try and take a break for awhile to see if that was contributing to my weepiness. I was okay the first few months I took it, but the last several months I have felt like I was in a state of PMS all the time. It also caused severe night sweats, hot flashes and heavy bloating. Fun stuff!
More than one woman, told me that DH would mellow and that of course, I should keep Gismo. It didn't matter how he got to me or how much I paid for him. He was with me now.
And of course, in a few days DH did mellow. He knew that I had been scammed, and knowing my love for animals, I couldn’t help but be concerned for the dog’s welfare. He also knew that between the BC, my surgery two weeks before, the hormones I was on, my recent weight gain, and losing my 2 dogs in less than a year, I was going a little crazy. He also knew that for the most part, I tend to be a pretty sane, responsible person. Or atleast, I think that's what he thinks!
Here are some pix of new boy:
Doesn't he look so much like Frankie? Except he weighs 22 pounds! He's super sized!
The last week my hexipuff turn out has gone way down, and so has my tv watching. Thankfully, I am sleeping again. Gismo sleeps on the bed with us, just like my dear Beanie dog did before she got so old. We have been inseperable, and park-bound most days. Although my little guy is a little older, he just loves to get out there and walk. I can’t believe I have only had him for 9 days. It feels like we have been together a lot longer. He’s such a good dog!
I have talked to Gismo’s orignal owner a couple times since I adopted him. Her and both agree that although it stinks that we were scammed, at least Gismo landed in the right place.
And well, I am thinking that my Dear Mr. Pom would approve, because that was the kind of dog he was. "Goodbye, Dear Friend, I am going to miss you!"
