Rest In Peace Our Princess

I knew it was past her time.

Demetrious has had Princess since she was a puppy, since long before he and I met. He adored her. She was his princess.

I loved her too, but I didn't pay as much attention to her as I should have.

She's had trouble with her back legs for months. Demetrious was in total denial that it was past her time. He put her on steroids rather than face that truth.

We have a step up from the back patio into the house. Princess has trouble making it up that step for months. Recently she's not even been getting up to go outside to poop. She has been shitting all over herself.

She used to come to me and whine when she needed to go out. Lately she has whined and I can't figure out what to do for her. I'd take her to the back door, and she didn't want to go out. But then I realized she often whined because she was super hungry, a side effect of the steroids.

Demetrious wouldn't let me feed her extra food or treats while he was at work. He put her on a 'schedule'. I think that was because he wanted her also on a schedule to poop.

He's so stoic. He never shows emotions. I'm realizing more and more it's because he thinks being emotional is sign of weakness.

He has a support system with other people, but it saddens me to the extreme knowing I'm not part of that support system.

He'll be dead tired, and I see it in his eyes. I'll say it, "You look exhausted."

De: "I'm fine."

I'll hear him talking about work-related problems that clearly have him stressed. I'll try to talk to him about it. "I'm fine."

Only when we fight does he reveal, "I have the gas bill to pay! I have this bill to pay! I have that bill to pay! I still owe $300 on the property taxes!" This just happened a few days ago, when we fought after that insane situation, where I climbed up on top of his car to try to prevent him from driving drunk. The day after that, as we fought it out, he told me about all the financial pressures on his back that he hides, and I was like, "I didn't know any of that!"

His work ethic is freaking amazing. I have never known anyone in my life who works so hard, so consistently, so persistently. In the five years I've known him, he's only taken off work a single time-- when I had a horrific seizure. (I'm epileptic.)

When we fought the next day after his drunken bad decisions, we finally made up. He was contrite. He apologized. He promised he'd never cross that line again. I wasn't budging at first, but eventually he found the way to open my heart.

I forgave him.

The next day, reflecting on what happened, I realized the same mindset played into why he drove drunk. I kept telling him, "You're too drunk to drive."

His response every time was, "I'm fine."

I'm home all the time. I never leave. I can't drive because of my seizures. I've taken care of both our German Shepherds while he works without letup. (Although he happens to have a very rare week off this week coinciding with the Memorial Day holiday.)

I've cleaned up a bunch of Princess' 'accidents' lately.

I tell her when she's sniffing around for food, "Your other daddy won't let me feed you."

We have a fenced-in backyard. I would take Princess and our other German Shepherd (Goldie) outside. They'd longue in the sunlight. I hate them barking at the neighbors, so I'd leave them outside as long as they didn't bark. When they started barking, I'd bring them inside.

Princess would be so hungry, while she was in the backyard, I'd catch her eating her own poop.

Princess would slam her back legs coming into the house, trying to make that step up. She didn't even act like she felt it. Sometimes she couldn't make it. I'd try to lift her up sometimes. I'm puny and she weighs a ton.

Other times, trying to lift her up while inside, because I knew she needed to go out, she'd poop all over when I lifted on her belly.

Just yesterday, I was thinking, 'What if she breaks a leg trying to make that step up? Demetrious will be at work. I won't be able to take her to the vet. She'll just suffer in pain.'

I've had to euthanize so many beloved animals in my 64 years on this planet. This ain't nothing new to me.

It is to him.

Last night, I was taking a bath. I had the overhead vent on in the bathroom.

He came into the bathroom and said something about the 'bottom having a big hole in it.' I couldn't hear well over that air vent.

He sleeps in a different bedroom than I do. We're 'estranged.' We were lovers; then boyfriends; then engaged; then he broke up with me, throwing his engagement ring in the trash; then were just housemates; then eventually boyfriends again; then nothing again; now just 'friends.' It's complicated because I put his name on the deed to his house. So this property has kept us together when other people would have split apart a long time ago.

I'm bipolar. We didn't even know that for four years. I have terrible mood swings, complete with horrendous fits of rage. My seizures destroy my memory. I've been incredibly difficult for him to deal with.

All the while, I still love him.

Just a few days ago, our cat Daisy poked a hole in his inflatable bed with her claws. I didn't hear what he said at first when I was in the tub and he came into the bathroom. 'Hole in the bottom'-- I thought he was talking about his bed. Then I became very concerned when he said something else and I thought he was talking about a family member. I said something out of concern and he clarified.

"It's Princess."

I tried to say something comforting, including, "Don't panic. It might not be that bad."

He said, "Bill-- it's a gaping hole." She had some tumor inside her that had ruptured out her belly.

I never actually saw what he was talking about.

I ended my bath prematurely and quickly got out of the tub.

I went into his bedroom and sat down on the floor with Princess, just petting her. She was laying on the floor next to Demetrious's bed. She licked my hands and face.

All this happened around midnight last night.

I was up til 4 am. I took Prin outside about 3:30. I sent De a couple texts.

Half asleep, I heard him on the phone this morning making the appointment. Last night, I'd told him I wanted to go with him.

Then, this morning, when I heard him getting ready to leave a couple hours later, I was bone-tired. I laid here groggy, thinking he'd wake me if he really wanted me to go.

I sort of dozed back off.

Not long after that, I got a call from one of my many doctors about tests that were run last week.

While I was on the phone with my doctor's nurse, I received a call from De. I missed his call but then called him right back.

His only words were, "She's about ready to go to doggie heaven."

It broke my heart. 💔

And as much as it hurts me, I know it hurts him 1o,000 times worse.

After I got off the phone, I started weeping hysterically. I cried and cried, eventually picking up my phone for some reason to record my grief.

I couldn't stop wailing.

Demetrious had called me to say she was going to go to doggie heaven at 1o:58 am. I wept right up until he called me again at 11:32 am.

He said, "She's gone."

I told him I'd been crying ever since he called. I told him he was the most awesome dog daddy ever. I asked him what he was going to do next. I figured he might go see him mama. He just said, "They're getting ready to cremate her." I talked to him a little more and he said he'd be home soon.

I had already written about half of this story after that second phone call. I was sitting in the living room watching for him out the front window.

He finally arrived.

Today was trash day. He got out of his car to bring the trashcans in from the street.

Goldie, our other German Shepherd dashed out the back door when she saw him. He petted her.

Then finally he came through the back door.

I hugged him. I told him he is the best dog daddy ever. He thanked me. I told him I was just keeping it real.

He broke the hug pretty quickly.

He started down the hallway to his bedroom. I followed him and told him I know how heartbroken he is.

What did he say?

"I'm fine."

I said, "You're not fine. It's okay to show emotion. It's not a sign of weakness."

He said, "I'm going to take a nap."

He shut off all the lights in his bedroom, turned on his fans, and called Goldie back there with him. He closed his door.

I don't think he'll sleep.

Maybe. I don't know. I'm certain he was up way early this morning, worried about her.

I came back to my bedroom to finish writing this.

Demetrious and I have had so many moments where we connect... and then the next day, he'll push me away. I still want a real relationship with him. More than once, I've caught myself thinking, 'Maybe we'll reconnect when he/we lose Princess.' Then I would become distraught with myself for thinking that! I would chastise myself, thinking, 'Our relationship shouldn't be restored at her expense!'

I would tell Princess that she and I were the old creatures in this house, that we had to stick together.

I would open the back door and call for them. I'd say, "I need two: green and blue." Goldie always ran in first. She's 'green'. Princess is 'blue'. (Green is De's favorite color. Blue is my favorite color.)

When De and I left the house together, I'd say, "Princess, you're in charge."

When we got home, I'd say, "Good job, Princess. The house is still standing!"

It makes me so sad to think about the void in my life.....

But it's infinitely harder on Demetrious.

And he's been slammed lately. Work problems. Feeling abandoned when his best friend moved to Texas. Pulled a million different ways by his family. I've caused him tension. Sooooo many financial worries.

Our cat Dexter needs his teeth pulled; he's sick too and we don't have the money to help him.

I'm just so upset for De.

I've seen him cry once in five and a half years.

He's seen me cry dozens upon dozens of times.

Our animals give us unconditional love. I wrote another story recently about how animals are conscious but don't have a constant mental dialogue running through their heads, like humans do.

When human beings still our mind-chatter and are just silent inside, we find peace.

Our pets help us to experience that silence, that calm.

I was working on an entry for the "I resign" challenge. But it's comedy and I don't know how comedic I can feel today.

I'm sleepy myself. I probably will be able to sleep.

I'm worried about Demetrious.

I want him to lean on me.

He probably won't.

{{ He didn't. And I can't lean on him. }}

_____

LATER

I was so exhausted. I slept for about two hours after writing the above.

I woke up and heard Demetrious talking. Just the sound of his voice, not distinct words. I went to the back door and he was sitting outside with Goldie next to him. He was talking on the phone to his best friend Chazz, in Texas. That's when I learned details that I wouldn't ever know otherwise.

I learn more from overheard conversations than I do from him directly. That is both a source of great aggravation and also despair. I've discussed it with him many times. MANY times.

He doesn't talk to me.

I had an epiphany during our 'make up fight' that he doesn't fully trust me.

He provides no emotional support for me. And he doesn't seek emotional support from me.

I feel like he only needs/wants me around when he gets horny.

He left a while ago. I don't have a clue when he'll be back. He won't tell me the simplest things-- like when I can expect to see him again.

I signed on Vocal and saw I received a Top Story award for this-- a story I didn't think was all that great.

I was hopeful I might win the Tattoo challenge. I didn't win but I received a runner up award for this.... Normally I would have been thrilled. Today, I don't really care.

If I had won, I would have given him all the money, even though I'd love to get my own first tattoo.

I won't spend money on luxuries if there are bills to be paid.

But he never tells me what he's stressing out.

He said to me during our fight, "You can't do anything for me."

That means: he doesn't think I can help financially.

I get very little income from the SSA. I've been trying to get Disability for damn near six years, ever since I started having seizures and was told by a doctor to never work or drive again.

I think, "Well, I certainly can't help you if I don't know!!!" That's something I haven't yet said to him.

But can I offer other kinds of support? I can. I'm willing. I'm eager.

But he doesn't seem to understand that. Or more likely, he doesn't want anything from me.

He thinks I'm trying to change him, to force him to be something he isn't.

As I said-- it's complicated.

The vet sent a bouquet of flowers with a card that said, "Rest in Peace, Princess."

I keep bursting into tears...

... alone.

But, you know. 🤷‍♂️

I'll survive.

Even though, on days like today, I really don't see the point.

______________⚡💔Bill⚡