beautiful, Beauty, Blame, Domestic Violence, Family, feminism, fuck you, Her, Hope, Journal, Love, Memories, Peace, Personal, Small Things, Smiling

There are two things wrong today.. I’ll start with the one that won’t matter in the distant future, and follow with the one that is more important.

I got a bad haircut. Well.. actually. There’s more to it than just that. I cut my own hair and wildy missed the mark. I fucked up bad. So I went to a local salon and they fixed it. The problem is – I hate what they did. I liked it when I left the salon. It was new. It was short. It was sassy and I was channeling my inner Khloe Kardashian. But then I got home and I showered, and I got out of the tub and looked in the mirror. It was different. The buzz I’d gotten was gone and I was left with a huge mistake that won’t grow back for a good two years probably. It’s fuzzy and huge, I can’t keep it down. I can’t curl it. I can’t straighten it. I can’t even take good selfies with it… I honestly want to get a pixie cut and forget this ever happened. I want to cry. It all happened because today has been the worst, though. Today was my last full day with my dog, Ronnie.

So, now we come to the real issue. My companion, best friend, guide, loyal pet, one true love, and my self-proclaimed bae who has been with me through all my struggles is getting a new home tomorrow. We’re driving to the Central Valley for my Grandpa’s 89th birthday party at his retirement home, and afterward we’re leaving Ronnie at my grandparents house so they can take her to her new home. It kills me. I don’t want to give her up and I really don’t want to leave her at my grandparents where they treated her so poorly.

She’s going to live with people she’s never met..

I wish I could tell them everything about her.. How she whines about everything, how she will paw at my toes when she’s bored, how she plays with my toes under the blankets when she’s playful, she climbs into bathtubs frequently even though she knows she’s too small to get out on her own, she begs constantly, she ignores her commands even though she had an amazing german trainer, she was abused by many men and now doesn’t trust any of them (especially the ones with facial hair or that wear hats), she snuggles me when I  tell her I love her, how she shoves her tiny wet nose into my knee cap when I blow into her ears because she knows it annoys me. How she peed on my floor the first time I met her and we still kept her because she so frickin adorable that you can’t say no to her little brown eyes and wagging tail (that has been renamed her “Happy Meter”). The way she wails when we put her in her kennel and how it killed us so much, we had to renamed it to her “transporter” for our own piece of mind (it was an ongoing joke that we never let go of). She endured two tweens dressing her up in build-a-bear clothes for four years, the constant changing of her name because it never stopped evolving (Ribbon, Freda, Reesta Skeet Doxin, Pooch, Ribs, Squirt, Reenie, Bibbon, Ronnie, Ronald, Ron, and countless others I’m failing to remember), She was a pop star, a whore, a model and a thousand unimaginable things that two tweens shouldn’t have been make-believing. She had a Dogster page, a youtube channel, a facebook page, a language, many friends (including: Connie, Ginger, Shady, Brendel, Tig, Nala, Dakota, and others), and particularly loved my friend Katie for some reason.

My sister and I got her for Christmas of ’08, she had a big red ribbon around her neck and we spent the rest of the day lounging by the fire with her in a little tan doggie bed. From that day on, she was my baby. She slept in my bed, I bathed her, I fed her scraps secretly, didn’t mind when her breath smelled or when she whimpered, she was mine. I loved her dearly. I remember when we got her name tag, it felt so official having her. I never thought that there would be a day where I would have to give her away, I figured we would have her until she passed away.. But things don’t work out as planned, and now we are having to give her to people who are practically strangers.

I love Ronnie with every fiber of my being, I love every annoying habit she has, I love our relationship and the trust between us. She is my fur baby and I feel like I’m giving away my child.. I’ve had her for eight years and I never thought it would end this way.


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