R.I.P My Dog Casey

 

Ugh

Welp. The day I've always felt I was most afraid to face has passed. In a small way I guess it's good that I no longer need to fear it. I lost the best friend I've ever had and am now forced to face the worst heartbreak of my life. I had to say goodbye to my dog Casey.

      Her decline of life quality happened so quickly and so drastically that when she was dropped off at the vet that day, I truly believed she would be coming back to me that night; back into the makeshift dog bed I made up for her on my floor with random blankets and pillows. I was the only one who felt like letting her go was a wrong decision but I think I was just in denial that I was about to part ways with the thing in life that gave me the most joy.

     It's amazing how noticeable her lack of presence is already. “I feel as if she could walk through the door at any minute.” You always hear people say this when they lose a loved one but now I actually get it. Right now I am laying in my bed and the possibility of hearing Casey sniffing and thudding down the hall, making her way to my room for the night seems so real.

     I hate the feeling of not knowing 100% if putting her down was the right decision. I'm not sure if I believe in signs but what gave me comfort was that as the doctor reached across her to inject her, she gently licked his hand then laid her head down. I like to think it was her reassuring him he was about to do the right thing. I kept my hand on her chest until I felt her heart stop beating and then I knew my friend was at peace. After the rest of the family said their goodbyes I needed to be alone with her for one last time. I curled up on the floor and spooned her body and sniffed her ears for about five minutes. I loved the smell of her ears, it was one of my favourite things about her.

     Today was the first time ever I've come home from work and she didn't come running to the door to greet me. Even if I was in a hurry to be somewhere after work I would always take the time to sit down with her and give her a nice butt scratch. I almost didn't want to come home from work. I was cleaning my room tonight and all my blankets smell like her. It's not a great smell but I can't bring myself to wash them yet. I new facing this situation was inevitable and I knew I would take it hard but damn. I've had a broken heart before but this one's a doosey. One of the hardest and most unexpected things about this is seeing my Dad's heart breaking. The man who NEVER wanted a dog is now finding difficult being without his best bud. I bet myself he wouldn't cry but he sure did. That dog had him wrapped around her little claw. She had us all in love with her. She was literally the only living thing on the planet that was guaranteed to put a smile on my face when I was down. The thing on the top of my list that I loved and cared about most in the world. The only living thing that would want to be around me or that I would let around me when I was in a mood. When I lived in a different province for half a year I would have phone chats with her for crying out loud. I don't care how weird that was to other people, we were that close. I owe her a bazillion thank-yous and I can only hope she felt the love and companionship from me in return. She truly was my best friend and I feel lost without her. I've already noticed about a billion things that I miss about her.

Things I Will Miss Most About Casey

-knowing it's just Casey making her bed or readjusting her position when I am woken up by noise in the middle of the night.

-hearing her claws on the kitchen floor when she walks. You could always tell when she was about to be fed because her claws would click faster as she ran to her bowl with excitement.

-the way she would sit outside the bathroom door and waited for me while I took a bath, no matter how long I took. Sometimes she would come into the bathroom unannounced and lay on the mat while i bathed.

-seeing her standing there in hopes of me dropping something when I opened the fridge.

-the way I would blame any of my farts on her

-the way she would lay right beside me EVERY time I would do sit-ups

-the way she would use her weight to recline the La-Z-Boy and stare out the front window

-believe it or not I will miss the way she would follow me around the house

-the way she would hide my Dad's slipper every time he went outside for a cigarette

-the way she would sway back and fourth under the table, the Christmas tree, peoples hands, or basically any object she could fit under in order to scratch her butt.

-how if you gave her a bone she would walk around the house for hours looking for a place to hide it.

-the smell of her ears. She may have been a smelly dog but her ears smelled like honey.

-the way she would wake me up in the morning by licking my hand that would be dangling off the bed.

-the way she would bring her bowl into the living room and throw it around angrily, letting us know she was hungry.

-how she loved the sun. She loved to tan in the backyard and when the sun would shine into the living room through the window, she would lay in it.

-the intense greetings I would get from her after I returned from a vacation

-the way she used to attack my first boyfriend lol

-the way she would jump up on the couch and stare at/sniff her Christmas stocking

-the way she would roll on her back and her teeth would stick out and her ears would flop back when she wanted attention.

-the way she would rummage through my purse looking for candy or food

-the way she would insist on bringing my bras into the living room

-the times on her birthday we would put her in a chair and let her eat cake at the table

-hearing my Dad call her his “girlfriend”

-the times we would walk through the tall weeds at the park and she would get lost in them

-her howl

-the times we would talk on the phone

-the way she could never understand the concept of the game fetch

-the way she wasn't shy to climb onto strangers laps and hope for a belly rub

-the way she loved to lay in my pile of dirty clothes

Ok, I literally could write 900 pages of this so I suppose I will stop here.

There's Always Humour...

As painful as this experience was and still is for me, it's still me. Of course there will be SOME humour to the situation. Most of this humour is credited to my wonderful, socially-awkward Dad.

As we walked into the vets office, I told my Dad I thought I was either going to pass out or throw up. He told me he would be right back and went to the van only to return with a GIGANTIC reusable bag from Telus with goats all over it. “Here, you can throw up in this” he said, in a very consoling way.

We all gathered into a room where we waited for the nurse to bring Casey in. The door opened and my baby came slowly walking in, attached to an IV drip which the nurse carted behind her. The nurse gave us some time alone with her as we waited for the doctor. We were all crying and trying to savour what we knew would be our last moments with our most beloved family member when her IV machine started beeping really loud. We had to call in the nurse so she could adjust it and then she left us alone once again. It was only a matter of minutes until it started beeping...again.

After we made out descion to let her go, the doctor explained our options of what to do with the body. My Dad decided he waned to have her cremated and have the ashed returned. A few moments after Casey passed on to another life, Dad broke the silence by saying “so theses ashes, do they come in an urn?” My Dad seemed either very concerned or intrigued with this urn as he asked several questions about it. After I thought the urn questions had finally subsided Dad asks out of nowhere “so does this urn have her name on it?” The doctor offered to show my Dad the urn his late dogs ashes were inside and my Dad was pretty jazzed about this. It was like when a man invites his friend over to his garage to show him his new car. Luckily we got our hands on a book that shows different urns you can choose from. I love my Dad so much.

After we got home I sat in the bathtub and cried for about two hours; until I got too wrinkly for my own good. I was starving and decided on some waffles. At first I thought we had no syrup and I said “well NOW my day is ruined.” That was my first joke since the experience and I was happy to see I still had somewhat a sense of humour.

Some of My Favourite Memories of Casey

-One time I brought her to PetsMart and the manager was bent over pricing stuff on the bottom shelf and she started going to town on his butt, sniffing it like crazy.

-The time I opened the fridge and she stole a hamburger and swallowed it whole.

-The time I put a Hooters shirt on her and she loved it

-The time we tried building a snowman together but she was too preoccupied by barking at the mailman

-The time she threw her food dish at me and it hit me in the face

-The time we reunited her with her sister and she beat her up

-The time on Christmas when we looked out the window during dinner and she was being humped by my Nana's dog.

-The time I was organizing my bras and I found a bone she had hidden there years before.

-The time after I had my surgery and was on heavy medication. I was eating a sandwich and Casey was begging and I started crying and said “I just want to eat my sandwich in peace Casey! I don't beg at you when you are eating your dog food!”

-The time she got really excited when Justin Bieber came on TV.

-The time she was scratching and barking at the door when I had a boy in my room.

One Last Thank-you

Thank-you Casey for being there for all my heartbreaks; from my first to my most recent. Thanks for loving me and wanting to be around me all the time, regardless of what kind of mood I was in. Thanks for embarrassing me in front of people by bringing out tampons and bras while I had company over, you've provided me with many funny stories. Thank you for giving me a reason to hang around home more often. Thank you for letting me snuggle you, even when I know you wanted to be left alone. Thank you for being my best friend! I hope wherever you are now, you are very happy. I miss you and I love you.

 

Cliches

Introduction

Good morning and/or afternoon and/or evening. So today my girl Manda and I went to Colasantis. For those of you who do not know what that is, its a place with animals and plants and whatnot. It has the best chicken, the best cinnamon donuts, and the best peach juice. If you've lived in the area or surrounding areas and have never been there as a child, you are certainly considered deprived. Anyway, we parked out front and went inside where I was attacked by a herd of goats who got mud and goat crap all over my new jeans. I really wanted a picture with one of them so I went up to a brown one who ran away from me. I then tried my luck with a black one but it started pooping as I approached it. We indulged in a delicious homemade picnic and then decided it was time to head out. Apparently the place closed at 5 and it was well past 5. The only way to exit the building was through the back. We had no choice but to walk down a dark creepy road with no sidewalks to get to the car. Oh, did I mention it was pouring rain? Because it was. We aren't 85 years old and therefore don't carry umbrellas around with us so we had to resort to using a magazine of upcoming Colasantis events to keep us “dry.”

Cliches

Personally, I hate using cliches. I feel like it's cheating; using overly written and used words to sum up your feelings instead of expressing how you really feel. Most cliches have been used so many times that their meanings almost become pointless. However, sometimes there is just no better way to describe a moment or express an opinion than by using a good old fashioned, overused but understood by everyone cliche. For my post today I'm going to take some well-known cliches and describe a personal experience related to them!

1. “Beauty is pain.”

I was in Grade 12 and I was in hardcore lust with a boy. He invited me to his house one day to “watch a movie” after which we would be attending one of his family events. In Grade 12 “watching a movie” didn't actually mean watching a movie. I think you can figure out what I'm getting at here. Anyway, I wanted to look nice. Nice meant no underwear lines. Now, I am not a fan of thongs as I find them irritating and pointless but, beauty is pain. I dug out my best/only thong from my mountain of white cottons and tried to position it in a way that didn't highlight my muffin top. While we were “watching a movie” my thong ripped in half. He didn't notice and I was too embarrassed to say anything so I had to walk around his family party with a thong that was ripped in half, praying it wouldn't slide down my body. I sewed up this thong and kept it as a memory.

2. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

I was about 17 or 18 and had fake identification, which only worked at Woody's (a slightly ghetto bar but always filled with possibilities and great memories). I would always wear the same hideous fake suede boots to the bar, they were the only comfortable shoes I owned, but GOD were they hideous (see picture of the day at end of blog). I thought wearing them seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway being the classy girl I was at the time and continue to be, it was also a good idea at the time to dance on top of the speakers. I was busting out my best moves (fist pumps and booty shakes) when my ugly boot got caught in between two speakers and my entire leg was jammed, resulting in a ginormous bruise. My friends had to heave me out. I felt like James Franco in 127 Hours.

3. “Patience is a virtue.”

It was a year or two ago and I was at the gym. I was half-way through my regular treadmill routine when I felt some rumbling in my stomach. I diagnosed it as mild indigestion and continued on with my work out. Afterwards, I was packing up my belongings in the locker room when the rumbling in my stomach made its way down south. Now, I have some sort of phobia or dysfunction where I can't take a Number 2 in public so I scooted out of the gym and headed for home. I didn't anticipate how bad things were about to get. I could hardly hold it. I was sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Of COURSE I got EVERY red light possible on the way home. It only got worse as time passed. I was stopped at yet another red light and this is where I began to pray aloud. “Please God, Please don't let me crap my pants. PLEASE.” At this point I started to tear up. I began getting angry and started cussing. My breathing patterns were now those of a woman in labour. I FINALLY get home and I waddle my way into the house, clenching my butt. I hurl open the front door, whip off my shoes and run to our only bathroom only to discover it was occupied by my Mom who was taking a bath. It was all over. I was out of luck and out of patience. I crapped my pants.

4. “You gotta put your foot down.”

I was living in Whistler, BC with three other girls and I have a farting issue. The issue being that I never stop farting. If I excused myself to go to the washroom every time I needed to pass gas I would live in it. I was brought up in an environment where tooting was highly praised and it was a hard transition for me moving in with people who are...normal. One night I was extra gaseous and my roommates decided to put their foot down. They threw me on the balcony and locked the door. There was no way off the balcony and no way to get inside the house and it was dark. Luckily I could see the television from outside so I set up a chair and chilled. Then they shut the blinds. After banging on the door for several minutes they eventually let me in. I tried my best to only toot outside from then on.

By-eee

Thank you so much for reading :) :) I appreciate all your compliments on my blog! I am happy people find me entertaining! Enjoy the picture of the day!

Love,

Chels

 

These are the hideous boots I would wear EVERY weekend downtown. Woof.

The worst part is several people have told me how horrible they looked

but I just didn't care.

Meet the Parents

Introduction

Hello! So I've made an observation over the course of the past few Tuesdays. Tuesday is seniors day where I work. I've noticed that senior citizens are either one of two of the following: total sweethearts or completely miserable. There is no grey area here. I understand you are elderly and have probably contributed a lot to the community over your lifetime but look, please remember the following:

-If we are out of microwavable pot roast, I cannot randomly pull one out of my ass. I was not born that gifted.

-You don't need to remind me eight thousand times that you are entitled to the senior discount. I can tell by the way you can't hear me from 1 foot away and the fact that you are only purchasing soup due to your lack of teeth.

-The seniors discount means you get a certain percentage off your purchase, it does not entitle you to skip the entire line.

-I understand that our other location near your house has closed down and now you must risk your life driving down Walker Road at rush hour when you really aren't supposed to be driving because you've recently had a hip replacement but you cannot cook for yourself due to this hip replacement so you have to come purchase already-made food from me that you can just pop in the microwave. I understand you would take the bus but them “damn kids” always steal the handicap spots at the front. (this was an actual phone call I received at work one day).

-I would be MORE than happy to carry your bags to the car. Please stop thinking you will be fine carrying 10 lbs of cabbage rolls by yourself and then almost toppling over when you try to do so.

-Please don't get snappy with me when I try showing you how to use the debit machine. I am not trying to steal your identity. If I was going to bother to do that, it would be someone much younger.

-Please have your glasses out and ready before heading to the check-out. You are holding up the line digging through the mountains of sweet n' low sugar packets and Werther's Original candies in your purse in order to find your glasses so you can double check I am not trying to scam you by charging you more.

Now, I don't mean to sound non empathetic, this is simply an observation. Not all senior citizens are grouchy. I've had my fair share of old cutie pies come into the store. I like the ones that call me “sweetheart” or “dear.” It really brightens my day. It's as if they are acknowledging my bubbly politeness and the fact that I only want to help them. If I make it to my senior citizen days, I hope I am a delightful old lady who wears tacky brooches.

Meet the Parents

Welp, I think its fair to say that my life is embarrassing. I would never have it any other way. Sometimes I think it is the reason why I am single, but I have to admit my embarrassing moments are what make me such a charming and loveable person, although I'm sure some people would disagree with that statement. I would like to share a more recent embarrassing story with you.

It was not long ago, about a couple weeks ago to be exact. I was on a date. Yes, there are men out there who are willing to take out in public and yes it WAS a man, I will call this man Rodney. We went to Moxies and ate a whole lot of delicious food then went bowling where I made several jokes about balls. I was my usual self. After about four games of gutter balls, we decided we had enough. I invited him back to my house to watch some Netflix! I am currently doing nothing worth mentioning with my life and therefore I still live with my parents and 20 year old brother. If I can remember correctly I stressed how small my house is in a previous blog. My Mom and Dad's room shares a wall with the TV room. So we sit down on the couch and are looking through our movie choices when my Mom yells from her room “SO CHELS, DID YA DO IT WITH HIM?” She had no idea he was sitting right next to me on the couch. This is how the rest of this went down:

Me: *Palm to face* “OH MY GOD MOM, HE'S SITTING RIIIGHT NEXT TO ME!”

long awkward silence

Mom: “Oh my God. I am sooo sorry! Hi Rodney...I'm Chelsea's Mom!”

Me: “Its okay Mom, it's a legit question.”

“Well Rodney, now you see where I get it from. This is why I don't have boyfriends.”

Mom: *Peeks around the corner* “I'm sorry, I thought you were talking to your brother. It's nice to meet you Rodney.”

Mom then came out in her bath robe and properly introduced herself then went to the kitchen to find snacks to offer us. The worst part was you could hear her in the kitchen whispering to my brother about what just happened. Rodney thought it was funny but I'm assuming he was wondering just how many guys I “do it” with in order for my own mother to ask me that after a first date.

Lessons Learned: Text Mom before bringing home a guy as I hope she would do the same. Also, learn to bowl.

By-eee

If my blogs entertain you, please entertain me by telling me any embarrassing date stories in the comment box below! As always, enjoy the picture of the day and thank you for reading, I've had a lot of positive comments from random people I've seen at the bar! Haha.

Love, Chelsea

I'm obsessed with Sea Lions. How could you look at one and NOT smile? :) This is a sea lion chillin on the dock in SanFran. My favourite place in the world.