June 28, 2008 8:51 AM
June 14, 2008 12:52 PM
I spent a lot of time looking for a place that he would be allowed to live in. There were a lot of places I could have bought closer to the city, but I bought this one so that he could live here with me. I know that mum hates him, so I think she was glad when I bought this place, getting rid of both of us at once. Except I had to wait to get formal permission.
I get a phone call today, "He's not looking good at all ... are you at work ... I'll wait till your father gets home."
I can't seem to compose myself. I'll never forgive myself if I don't say goodbye, what if he's not as bad as mum says? She wouldn't call if he wasn't that bad ... I have to go home.
He's so skinny and he's shaking, I don't want him to die, he hasn't even seen our place yet.
We have to take him, this is cruel leaving him to suffer, dad will be ok.
Goodbye Patch, I wanted you to come and live with me, you could have been an inside dog again. I remember when you used to bring in the paper for dad and how you'd fall over yourself when it was too big. You'd always run up to the clothes line ahead of mum to make sure it was safe for her. Mum freaked out when you caught those mice, she thought you were going to eat them. Remember when we got attacked by that dog? I was heaps scared he was going to get you, but you just wanted to rip his throat out. I'll always miss the Sunday morning walks along the beach when we'd throw the ball, you'd run after it, catch it and then wait for us. None of this silly bringing it back business.
Thank you for being my first dog, I'm really sorry you didn't get to see our place.
June 14, 2008 10:02 AM
If there were such a thing as the blog police. I'm terrible at blogging. I really don't know why, I guess my mind just isn't on blogging lately. I really truly do have the time to blog and I'm just not. I'm certainly not ready to give it up, even though it would save me about $250 a year. I guess that's not too bad considering what some other hobbies cost.
I guess the other thing that's stopping me from blogging is the lack of interesting things to write about, my life has become so boring. I'm fairly sure that no one wants to hear about what I'm cooking for dinner. The only thing I really do these days is work, cook, eat and sleep.
So it was at this point in the post that I got a phone call from my mum and I couldn't continue.