Expecting the Worst.

dogsEver since I was a little girl, I’ve always wanted a dog, and of course, my parents would always say no. They would tell me over and over again how I wasn’t ready to take care of a dog (or maybe deep inside, they really didn’t want one), but it wasn’t until I was in 4th grade where one of my mom’s patients’ dog gave birth to a litter of puppies. He asked me if I wanted one and told my mom that he would give us a puppy for free to thank her for doing such a great job as his physical therapist. My mom then told me that since I don’t have a sister and my two older brothers had each other that I could have a dog to have as my playmate. She then went on about the different responsibilities that came with owning a dog, but I didn’t care. I was overjoyed that I finally had someone to play with. A year later, my dog passed away because she had a hyperactive heart (or so that’s what PetSmart told us). In hope of cheering me up, my parents sought out to buy me a new dog and so began our journey in finding me another furry little friend.

A month passed. My mom and I had gone to almost every pet store we could think of, yet we couldn’t find a dog that we both wanted. After what seemed to be a dead end, my mom and I decided to go to a flea market where a breeder was advertising a littler of puppies, and it was at that flea market where I found and chose my little fluff ball of a friend, Candy. If you’ve ever met her, you’ll know we’re quite similar. We’re crazy, energetic, curious about the world, always excited to meet people, and always wanting to sleep. As we both get older, I’m finding myself having to face the hard truth that Candy is slowly reaching the end of her time here on Earth, so now whenever something out of the ordinary happens to her, I find myself expecting the worst so that I can mentally and emotionally start preparing myself for what’s to come.

Now, I understand all of this sounds really depressing (it got me a little teary-eyed just thinking about it), so I apologize if I just dampened your day (heh, my b). But there’s a perfectly good reason why I’m blogging about this, I promise! Here, let me give you a little back story for this post.

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Within the 9 years that I’ve had Candy, she’s eaten grapes, foil, chicken bones, and chocolate. She’s had a yeast infection in her ear, a really bad allergic reaction to flea bites, she’s hyperventilated before, and she’s had an episode of weird behavior. I also spent 2 hours looking for my lost dog one Thanksgiving Day (you can ask me about that if you’d like). Now if you’re not a dog owner, you’re probably thinking “Okay…what’s the big deal?”, but if you ARE a dog owner, you’re probably thinking “Oh my goodness, your dog should be dead, and you’re an awful person.” Yeah, you’re right, she should probably be dead or have been hospitalized or something because dogs aren’t allowed to eat grapes, chicken bones, or chocolate, and I’m pretty sure they’re not allowed to eat tin foil either.

My dog is a very curious creature, always sniffing, always wandering around, always eating things she’s not supposed to eat. Thankfully, I always catch her in time to prevent her from indulging on more of these poisonous snacks, and thankfully she threw up all of those chicken bones. Of course, after I’ve realized she’s eaten something that’s harmful to her, I literally freak the living crap out of everything, but she’s fine and has always been fine afterwards. These little incidences happened in our early years together, and well, now I just keep all of those things and more away from her. Also, just because I feel like this post makes me look really bad…I’M A GOOD OWNER, I PROMISE. I love her very, very much.

Anywho, so this episode of weird behavior. She was closing her eyes while she was sitting straight up as if she was about to fall over, she ignored the pieces of apple that we were giving her (she loves apples), and she didn’t come to me when I sat a few feet away from her. I was, of course, freaking the crap out because everything she was doing was so out of the ordinary. My mom and I went and bought some soft dog food because we thought it’d be easier to eat and digest later, and when we gave it to her, she scarfed it down and felt better immediately afterwards. We just figured maybe she was weak from a lack of energy…who knows.

In all of these different little freak out moments though, I expected the worst. I feared that whatever she had consumed or whatever was happening to her body would be the end of her furry little life. Sure, I could be optimistic about the situation, which I was, but I couldn’t help but prepare myself for the worst possible outcome there could be just in case it actually did happen. Thankfully, she’s been perfectly fine after each of these incidences, but as we’re both getting older, I’m growing more weary of that dreadful day where her tiny little heart decides to just stop beating.

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A few days ago, I noticed that Candy was scratching her ear a lot, and she seemed extremely uncomfortable. I flipped open her ear to take a look at it, and I saw some brown gunk deep in her ear canal. I also noticed some weird brown splotches of skin while I was petting her one day too. After I checked her ear, I figured that I should just do a body check, so I took a look at her teeth which turned out to be a little discolored which is not healthy. Naturally, I started freaking out because well…she’s getting older, and now that I’m older, I’m thinking more and more about that dreadful, ominous day.

In my eagerness to try to fix my little bugger, I used a Q-tip to try to get some of the gunk out of her ear, and I brushed her teeth with toothpaste in attempt to clean her teeth. After I had used the Q-tip and the toothpaste, I had a bad feeling that what I had just done was probably not the best idea, and Google later confirmed shortly after that using both of those items can be harmful to a dog. Then I thought, “Great. I am literally the best dog owner ever. Someone give me an award”. Now, in hindsight, I should’ve googled all of that before I did anything, but I didn’t which was totally my fault. Before that though, I googled everything that was wrong with my dog (such a bad idea) which only freaked me out even more because Google gave me gum disease, skin disease, and everything in between. I then turned to my dad and told him in my frantic and worried state, “I think Candy needs to go to the vet”.

I made the appointment, and we went to the vet today. People say dogs hate going to the vet, but let me tell you, I hate going to the vet. It is seriously the worst feeling waiting for the doctor to come in or to return from checking on something or even while they’re telling you what’s going on with your pet. It is literally the worst feeling ever. I was expecting the worst. I was expecting the vet to say something totally crazy that would potentially end my dog’s life. I was terrified. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want her to go away anytime soon. Not. At. All. I’m just at the point in our relationship where I’m preparing myself for the day of her inevitable death. I’m simply just expecting the worst.

Also, if you’re ever there with me when that day comes…I’m terribly sorry and am apologizing in advance because no matter how much I prepare myself now, I’m still going to be an emotional hot mess. Just sayin’.

Expecting the Worst.

Toilet Thoughts: Old Times

*Disclaimer: This content includes poop.

I recently bought a box of Fiber One bars to eat as a snack during summer school, and thanks to all of the additional fiber, I’ve been pooping a lot more than I did before I got the bars (well, clearly). I don’t know about you guys, but when you poop, do you occupy yourself with something to pass the time? Maybe read a magazine? Or a newspaper? I’ve heard that some people read their Bibles! Maybe you do that too? Well for me, I’m usually on my phone, scrolling through Instagram, checking Snapchat, or looking at my news feed on Facebook, but when I don’t have my phone, I find myself making a to-do list for the rest of the day, the week, or sometimes way into the future. Then sometimes, I just think.

Anyway, long story short…I went to the bathroom today, and I didn’t have my phone. I don’t know why, but the only thing that crossed my mind while I was pooping was, “I wonder what people used to do when they pooped back in the day”. Okay yes, I know that’s weird, but I told you guys I would write whatever my brain decided to think about on this blog soooo YOU WERE WARNED. Okay, back to the poop. Honestly though, if you think about it, nowadays we have things to read and phones to look at, but people back in the day didn’t have those things so…what DID they do? Naturally, my initial question led to many other questions like, “Did they think about what they had to do for the rest of the day? Did they count the tiles on the floor? Did they just..sit there? Did they ask themselves weird questions too?” Before I could think about it anymore, I was done, and that was the end of that.

And…welcome to my brain. Now that you’ve had a little glimpse of what goes on in there, let me ask you, “What do YOU do when you poop?” Maybe you’ve never thought about it, maybe you don’t think at all, maybe you have a routine! Who knows. Actually, only you would know, but now you would really know! It may be 2 in the morning, (I should really stop blogging at this hour) and I may say and think some crazy stuff, but hey, toilet thoughts, think about it.

Toilet Thoughts: Old Times

Starting Again.

Hi there.

I’ve always liked to journal out my feelings and thoughts whether it was writing them down or typing them out, but I never seemed to keep up with it all that well. When I was in sixth grade, I had this journal that said “I pass notes in class” written on the front cover (funny, right?), and I was pretty active in writing out what was going on in my life that year. I hit seventh and eighth grade, and I found myself updating my journal every few months or even half a year later. Then I wrote in that same journal maybe a few times in high school to write down everything that had happened in my life so far which was a lot.

I don’t know when, but I decided that writing everything down took a lot of time. As you could imagine, it was pretty taxing on my hand to have to write so much since it had been ages since my last entry, so I figured why not just keep a journal on my laptop and type everything out there? It seemed like a great idea in the moment, but alas…I didn’t keep up with it. In all efforts to journal again, I stumbled upon Tumblr, and I found myself resorting to that to type out whatever it is I wanted to share with my friends and with the online world. It was there that I posted what I was struggling with during my high school years like when I doubted my self-worth, my identity, my relationships, and just life in general.

After high school though, I decided to journal out my college experience every single day. I did pretty well for the first couple of months, but then I began to realize a lot happens in one day…like, a lot. I would get up, go to class, do homework, study, hang out, get home really late, and pass out from exhaustion (you know how it is). I was so tired and busy that I just didn’t have the time to write out what happened every day in my journal, so I just started posting things about my college experience on Tumblr when I had the time. Surprisingly enough, I still found myself posting a sad thought here and there like I did back in high school.

I thought my journaling days were over since I hadn’t touched Tumblr in almost a year, but then I found this really cute journal that said, “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning how to dance in the rain” on it. Then I thought to myself, “I have to get this. I’m a dancer, it’s relevant! Okay. If you buy this journal, you HAVE to write in it. Otherwise, it’ll just go to waste.”, and that’s exactly what I did. I bought it, and I started to write in it. Just kidding, I didn’t write in it until like 5 months later (clearly I’m really great at this whole journaling thing).

It was the beginning of my second year in college, and I was going to be a leader for my college ministry that year as well. Now, I oftentimes take on too much than I can handle because I like to keep myself busy, so naturally, I was feeling a little tired because I was pouring into the new members from an empty cup. I felt unappreciated, unloved, and I felt like I was being taken advantage of. My friend could tell something was wrong, and I told him, which then he told my two other good friends out of concern for me. I had a conversation with one of them, and he said that I should journal out what I was thinking to help process through my thoughts because there’s something about writing down your thoughts that helps put your frazzled feelings into organized chaos. After I had that conversation, I wrote down everything. Everything from my thoughts, my fears, my struggles to my hurt, and it was from that moment on that I started using that journal to help me process through tough situations.

But somewhere within me still feels kind of empty…like there’s a need to write out what I’m thinking. Maybe it’s the drive to be more proactive about journaling. Maybe because it’s 2 in the morning and I’m fighting to keep my eyes open. Or maybe it’s because I see my friends post things on their wordpress so now I’m thinking maybe I should make a wordpress and do the same. I don’t know. But I do know that the reason why I journal in the first place is to either 1) write out my thoughts 2) process through my thoughts 3) talk about my day or 4) document my experiences/thoughts so my future self can read them later.

All in all, I’ve noticed I think a lot. I have all of these thoughts flowing around in my head, but I have no idea what to do with them. They’re not private enough to write in my little dance in the rain journal, but they’re also not private enough to not share with others either, so I figured…why not? Why not make a wordpress and write out whatever it is my brain decides to think about and just go from there? Why not have a place where I can word vomit without having my hand cramp on me? And so I guess that’s where the name “a loud whisper of thoughts” came to be because well, that’s what it is, or uh…I guess that’s what this is going to be.

So, here you go, friends. Here’s to starting again.

Starting Again.