My childhood just died on top of everything else I’m dealing with…
*lol, typo in the title. Childhood dog, not childhood
I’m 20 years old. Mason had been in my life since I was 8. I grew up in an abusive household and I wanted a dog more than anything. When we finally adopted Mason, he was my whole world.
I recently moved out of said abusive household, but I couldn’t take any of my pets with me besides my conure, who is the only one of my pets who *technically* didn’t belong to my abuser. So Mason stayed behind.
It wasn’t abuse related or anything. He was 12 years old. When my dad took him into the emergency vet, they said he had a massive cancerous growth in his stomach that was causing internal bleeding, that his spleen was almost completely destroyed. They said he’d had a seizure earlier in the day which is why he declined so rapidly. He’d been fine when my dad had left for work, but by the time my dad came home he was already dying.
I am overwhelmed with guilt. I didn’t get to say goodbye. The last time I was with Mason I was so stressed that I barely interacted with him, I was desperately choosing which of my belongings to take with me in the limited space I had to escape and which to leave behind. That was about two weeks ago. I can’t stop thinking about that, maybe if I hadn’t escaped, maybe if I kept living with my abuser, I would have noticed something was wrong sooner and we could have saved him. At the very least he wouldn’t have died with just my abuser. The man who hated him, saw him as a nuisance and a burden, who wouldn’t even let him sleep on the couch with him…
This isn’t the first time I’ve lost a pet. This isn’t the first time I’ve lost a pet when I wasn’t around, either. I was hospitalized for about a month in 2021, and during that period, my first guinea pig passed away. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her either. But this feels different. It feels like I’m at fault for his death. My dad said he was suffering. How long was he suffering for that my dad just ignored?
My dad said they’re going to cremate him and that I can have his ashes. But I don’t even think I’ll be able to collect his ashes… my girlfriend, who I live with now, is terrified of my dad, for valid reasons. She doesn’t want him knowing where I live or what she or his car look like, and I don’t drive. I don’t have any other relatives that could give them to me either.
On top of that, I don’t know how to move on either. With my past pets, I’ve found the best way to move on is by introducing a new one into my family, to fill the empty space. I know a lot of people feel like shit when thinking about this, like they’re replacing their old pet, but for me it’s always been about rescuing a new baby. Giving them a good home. But… I can’t do that right now either. I have a parrot and my girlfriend has a cat and that’s really all we can afford to have right now. We’re living paycheck to paycheck, my girlfriend doesn’t even HAVE a job, so it’s not like we have the money to burn on rescuing another animal. I’m also a bleeding heart and work at a pet store which doesn’t make it any easier, lmao. I had to leave work early because I couldn’t stop crying, but when I *was* working, I was just… using the other animals to cope. Like “oh, maybe I’ll be able to bring you into my life and we’ll be happy together” even though we can’t afford to have anymore animals. Plus, my girlfriend doesn’t really like dogs anyways, she’s pretty scared of them.
So… yeah. Not doing too great. I miss Mason. None of this even feels real. I wish my dad wasn’t a piece of shit. I feel like I could have saved him.