Greetings everyone.

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It’s been awhile since I’ve been on here. I needed some time away from this or every post I’d write would have been about Bucky. I still miss her, I still cry a lot, I go through her photos all of the time, I relive her dying in my arms and the helpless look in her eyes before they rolled back in her head. But it’s time to slowly learn to live without her now, even though sometimes I still call out her name. I have a new puppy now, I’ve had him for almost two months, his name is Rosco, he’s a pomeranian. Having Rosco helps bring back happiness, it brings back my smile. He’s 4 months old now and he is adorable, I absolutely love him. Although, it doesn’t help any heartache from Bucky, all it does is help keep my mind off of her more but I guess that’s the whole point.

I’m sure everyone knows of the Newtown tradegy, human brains are often only hardwired to feel so much empathy, but I’m sure it touched almost everyone that can feel empathy. To be honest, I didn’t feel much pain for the victims, but my heart went out to the families of the victims, especailly the parents, I cried for them, even though Bucky was a dog, I still loved her as if she were my child and maybe I still cannot grasp their pain fully because she wasn’t my child and I didn’t have that same bond with her as I would my own child but I have learned that losing a child is one thing no parent should ever have to go through. I just thought I’d mention that because I was deeply sadend by the massacre.

But I’ll leave this with a happier ending, I’ll share a few things with Rosco in case anyone cares. I’ll start with something kind of humorous, Rosco is most attachted to me, he has become my total, complete shadow. It’s cute, although I cannot even go to the bathroom by myself anymore, even if I take a shower, he has to sit in the bathroom. He has to sleep with me everynight, but pomeranians tend to have “floating kneecaps” so I sleep on the floor with him so he doesn’t jump off my bed, although lately I’ve been putting a lot of pillows and blankets on the side of my bed so he can jump safely and we’ve been in my bed the last few nights, that seems to be best, at least for me (haha) I like my bed. I made a promise to myself that I’ve been keeping too. I felt really guilty for all the times Bucky came to me for attention and I ignored her because I was too busy doing something else, so I promised I wouldn’t take Rosco for granted like I did to her sometimes. Bucky left little scratches on my door from her nails when she wanted me and I ignored her so it’s a constant reminder. I give Rosco all of the attention he wants, mama says that it will spoil him but he is the baby now and I don’t see anything wrong if he gets a little spoiled, mama says I’m also too easy on him, I’m not stern enough. I kinda think it’s psycological because I was always very stern with Bucky and maybe I feel bad for that and I don’t do it with him. I kind of see Rosco as a chance to make up for all the things I did wrong with Bucky. Although, I can never know for sure which is right and wrong in this situtaion, all I can do is assume what is best for him. I do scold him when he does wrong like chewing on stuff other than his toys but mama says scolding isn’t always enough and there needs to be a form of punishment. I was thinking of a “time out” spot for him. With Bucky, I put her in a big box for a few minutes and let her out, I didn’t close the box of course, but it was just a spot where she was away from everyone and I thought it did well and maybe I should do that with him too. I just am not sure if it’s a “cruel” form of punishment. I don’t think it seems that way but I don’t fully understand the mind of a dog and I don’t want to do anything that will harm his mind or well-being.

But anyway, Rosco is a character, he is the total opposite of Bucky, which I find fun, he likes to chase his tail and he’ll chase it until he’s dizzy, he loves to play! Bucky played once in a while but she was more lovey, Rosco is very lovey too but he likes to play all the time, I taught him how to play fetch, he also likes tug-of-war. You know, pomeranians are known to be yappy dogs and Rosco doesn’t really yap, in fact he hardly barks unless he’s playing with a toy. Maybe I’m just lucky or it’s because he’s still a puppy. Either way, I love him no matter what.

I also taught him his first command this week, he knows how to “sit” and I feed him 3 times a day but he doesn’t get any food until he sits for me, I also do not praise him unless he sits down right away because I don’t wanna give praise out too much or it will be meaningless. I also brush his teeth often, he doesn’t even mind, he’ll even let me open up his mouth and brush every tooth. I did that Bucky but she didn’t like it a lot, but I didn’t start brushing her teeth until she was older, so since Rosco is so young, this is the best time to start everything. The only thing he hates is when I clip his nails or check his ears. He really hates having his nails clipped and he shows teeth and tries to bite, although his puppy teeth are really sharp and kind of hurt, I’m not letting him think aggression works, so even though he bit me a few times, I still kept clipping his nails and he eventually gave in, I had to tie a bandana around his face though so he couldn’t see me and it helped calm him down but I got every nail clipped short, his nails are black so it’s hard to see the quick but I did a good job, I can say so myself. Besides, I couldn’t really scold him for biting me like that, I probably hit the nerve endings by the quick and hurt him so I didn’t yell, instead I calmly hushed him and kept going.

Well, anyway, I just thought I’d come back on here and share what’s going on with me in case anyone was wondering how I was doing. I apologize for just leaving this site for while without a post to let everyone know I was going to be away. But I sure hope everyone else is doing well, I’ve missed being on here and reading everyones posts.

Good day, friends.


I thought I’d share more personal things.

I have found my smile again. My depression still comes and goes but things are better. I keep having dreams of Bucky, (my dog.) though. I tried cleaning up the house so I could get my mind off of her. Although, depression seems to make me more lazy. Or at least feel lazy. After cleaning the kitchen and doing dishes, I was cleaning the floor and where her food bowl use to be, were still her tiny paw prints on the floor.

It was so hard to wipe them up. I just wanted to leave them there to see her little paw prints. So yesterday was a sad day after cleaning up her paw prints. There is even a blood stain still on the floor where she died that I simply cannot clean up. I just cannot do it. That’s where my little baby died and I don’t want to get rid of it. I probably won’t be able to get it up anyway, my mama is still the all-knowing cleaner around here.. I have much to learn.

Anyway. I have been able to look at positives thanks to an acquaintance of mine. Well, I actually look up to him more like a teacher-of-life. But he is full of wisdom that really just knows how to get through to me. So, I’m ready to open up to a new relationship with a new dog. I really wanted to get a shelter dog but my parents insist on getting a puppy to raise how we want. But in time, I will be able to do as I wish. Actually, I would really love a cat too, but my parents dislike cats.

My parents still have to heal before welcoming a new baby into our lives but I could go for one right away. As much as I love them, it seems like we always have wishes that conflict with one another, but I’m a patient person and I do not mind, not after all they’ve ever done for me.

Change is constant, change is important, so I must accept that. I do feel like it opens up a new chapter in my life. I’ve finally nagged my mother enough to take me to get my driver’s license (Been trying since I was 18.) and I think I will look into school and perhaps become something I’m good at.. Which could be guitarist, artist, vet, nurse, etc. Although that conflicts with my parents again since they do not want me to ever leave home. I couldn’t do that to them anyway, they need me to clean, cut the grass and watch dad while mama works part-time.

But I’m sure something will work out, it always does for me.


Writing before going to bed.

I am proud to say, my tears have stopped. Well, most of the time. I’m in the step of depression at the moment, but it comes and goes. But my “beliefs” some may want to call faith, but my “beliefs” have been what has gotten me through this so far. I’m in process of trying to forget how she died and only try to remember all of the wonderful love and priceless moments that little baby brought me.
I’m even considering getting a new dog. She will never be replaced but there are many other animals that need love and homes too. I’m still sad that I have to live the rest of my life without her but having another innocent dog become my baby will give me something else to live for. I’m very surprised with how well I’ve been taking this.
There are many pet owners that understand what I’m going through and understand that they are just like babies and when you lose your pet, you lose your child. That helps. I am happy that she died here at home, surrounded by all of us, after we told her to stop fighting it and let go, she struggled with it but she took her last breath. I am happy, she was getting old and now she won’t have to suffer from any old age. 9 years was more than enough, I still wish it could have been a lot more but I would do it all over again and again I don’t care what pain is causes me. I know I shouldn’t let the pain get to me, that I could turn it off and not go through it, but it seems healthier to go through the grieving process than to just focus on all the good. I’m doing both and the happiness always prevails through the pain.
It still hurts beyond belief, it was only a week ago she was sleeping in my lap or I was playing with her and I clipped her nails and brushed her teeth. But no walks. I feel bad since I didn’t take her on more walks, she loved them so much.
It may be hard to believe, but sometimes I forget she’s even gone. I see a white glare move in the corner on my glasses from light and I expect it be her or I look up on the couch where she laid and of course she’s not there. I keep getting up to check her water bowl or watching my step out the door to make sure the little brat didn’t try to sneak out the front door again.
That made me smile. She was such a brat, it was adorable. She was so spoiled. I didn’t care how spoiled she was, she was a really, really good dog and she deserved it. Whenever she did do wrong, I had a little box I’d put her in for a minute or two then let her out. It was actually cute seeing her little head poke out of the box like she was just saying “I’m sorry, please let me out and I’ll be good” of course I feel so awful for it now. But I did for her.
I never mistreated that baby except when I was younger and I use to spank her but I learned that was the wrong way to go about it. That all still haunts me, I know it cannot be taken back but oh, how I wish it could.
Today I was looking at dogs online and I seen one that looks exactly like her. Has the same little face and expression as her and I’d kill for her. But I know I cannot replace her and that’s what I’m trying to do with this little dog online. It would be too painful to have that dog online and I’d only disappoint myself. I cannot expect it to be her or act like Bucky and that’s what I’d try to do. That little doggy deserves better than that, for someone to love her as she is. I made myself upset after looking at her. It looked so much like her, that would have passed as a picture of Bucky when she was younger.
It’s really hard to keep her off my mind, I miss her terribly. Now that I’m not crying as much, I can let the raw skin on my face heal. I’ve really been a mess. I just kinda mope around the house, not really wanting to do much of anything. I’ve never been a shopper but mama tried to take me out and buy me things. I wasn’t really interested. Dad took my to the gun range and I did manage to have a lot of fun shooting. But the kind of fun that becomes forgotten instantly when I think of her.
My darling little baby, the light and love of my life, my whole world left me Friday Oct. 19th at 5:47 pm.  But it is a part of life, nothing that isn’t so different from what everyone else will go through. We all experience pain, I’m no different and our pain is quite real.
The important thing is that I do not allow the pain to overwhelm me, Broken Heart Syndrome is very real and I cannot mourn myself to death because I couldn’t do that to my parents, they’ve been through enough. I need to ignore those feelings that bring me discomfort, it’s useless, pain reminds us how good it is to feel happy and I’ve felt enough to remember how nice it is to be happy so any more pain is useless. There is only going forward, and I will have to move on with my life, but I will never ever forget that precious baby that made my life worth every single second of pain I’ve ever felt.
Thank you for reading.

Just writing.

Things are slowly getting better. I think. Daddy is taking Bucky’s death really hard. She was the baby of us and we all knew it, including her. I keep dreaming of her and sometimes it seems like she’s still around.

Yesterday, I walked into the kitchen and looked where her food bowl use to be and expected it to be there. I keep looking on the couch, expecting her to be there , looking out the window as she always did. The other day was really tough, mama made me give away all her things. One good thing has happened, since she passed, I no longer have social issues, although it’s hard to keep it all together. I spoke to our neighbor, about her death and gave her all of Bucky’s food, leash, etc. I’ve spoken on the phone, to strangers, family everything with no problem.

People tried to tell me, it’s just a dog. But she wasn’t. I always felt she was like my baby and I treated her like one. I use to hold her and sing a lullaby to her and she’d fall asleep in my arms. I use to talk to her and her little head would tilt to the side and she’d just look at me like she understood everything I said. I miss how she’d scratch on my door to come in, or if was just opened slightly, she’d push it open and walk in with me. I miss how she’d stick her little nose under the door if I was too busy to let her in, I miss how she’d roll on her back and stay there till I rubbed her belly. I miss her little howls when she wanted attention.

I spent most of the day yesterday outside laying next to  her grave, I thought I got a sunburn, but I didn’t. I was out there for a little while before I started writing this, just trying to feel close to her again. We put a big rock over her grave to be sure no coyotes tried digging her up and today I took a marker and wrote her name on it and put little hearts and such.

I’m grateful for the nine years of pure love and happiness she gave all of us. I’ve been going through her pictures, just thinking about all the things I shouldn’t have done with her.

I can think about her a lot and not be upset, but when I recall watching her suffer and die, I lose it. The vet knew and he didn’t tell us. Even I knew from the beginning it was Congestive Heart Failure but he told us she would be fine, I trusted him over myself. But I knew she was going to die. I was thinking last night, the way she was twitching before letting go, I figured that was because no oxygen was getting to her brain and her frontal lobe was being damaged. I knew when I checked her gums the day before and they looked blue, she was dying but I told myself I was wrong and being over-protective and worried as I always was with her.

This place feels so empty and lonely. I loved that dog more than I loved myself or even my parents. She was like my child and I lost my child.

She was so pathetic looking before she died. She started losing weight already, she had food all over her from when I force-fed her, you could see in her eyes how they lost those bright stars, she never looked so old and I could see she was miserable.

I have a locket in the shape of a heart and I put a bit of her hair in there so I can have something of hers.

Writing about this helps me feel better. So thank you to anyone that has read it.

Me and Bucky.

Bucky had a hair cut and today she is getting a bath! I clipped her nails, which need to be clipped again since the quick was too long so they weren’t clipped short enough but the quick should be shorter now. She is going to be brushed and I’m going to brush her teeth afterwards and she will the sexiest little dog in Indiana.

She had a birthday last month, it’s hard to believe she’s 64 in doggy years. She still looks like that little baby puppy in the face. But before she gets her bath I’m going to surprise her with the magic words, “bye-bye”.  Yep, she loves going for walks. She is my baby. I do not care what anyone says, pets are like your children. And this doggy is definitely my baby.

Anyway, I have to go clean up and make coffee for mama and daddy. But here’s a little something from her last bath that might make you giggle.


Cats are adorable. The way they can be so easily amused with a simple string or ball. Then the not-so-adorable moments they try to claw your eyes out but still, they’re adorable.

Cats are fascinating. They kill just to kill. They may not want to eat that mouse or bird they pounced but they kill it because they can. It makes me wonder if they would take over the world if they could. I think they would. But with those big adorable eyes and little whiskers, I would personally bow before them before they even tried to rule me. I could see that happening.

A Ragdoll kitten rules the earth and demands only the finest silk to be used as a scratching post. Every item in the world would be made out of cat nip and all the dogs would be banished to the moon…


that’s how I would imagine it. It makes me rethink wanting a kitten as I desperately do. But the neighbors bought a cat about a year ago they leave outside all year around. Which I HATE. I don’t get why someone would do that. The poor baby is ate up with fleas, she’s already had kittens and they don’t even feed her. But every time she sees me, she runs up to me and I smile and talk to her while she uses my legs for a scratching post. I call her Gypsy since I do not know her real name but if my parents said I could keep her, I would take way better care of her than the neighbors do. I just hope she wouldn’t try to rule the world because with those big golden eyes, she could get away with anything.

Tom the butterfly.

So, I’m home from my sister’s again. I am ever so happy, I became very homesick. But I’ve done very well with my new “friends” over there, my sister’s neighbors. They’re so nice and I get to play with their puppy. I also got to walk her, bathe her, train her a little bit and clip her nails. It was great and they really appreciated that I did that.

Now, I wake up with my sister at 7 AM and go over and walk with her neighbor (Jessica) and we all walk with her to take her daughter, Starsha to school and back. I also helped her babysit her cousin’s baby this morning before mama came to pick me up. It was fun. And I adore Starsha, she is so cute but still a little shy. But not everything was so great, I do smoke, and I have to go outside to smoke and that’s how I meet all of the other neighbors. Some of which, I find intimidating. Some of the men, 4 of them, to be exact, would talk to me then ask me if I had a boyfriend, which to me, sends a signal that they’re possibly attracted to me, but I could be wrong so I don’t dwell on it, perhaps they’re just curious. Then I awkwardly explain that no, I’m not into dating, the men are very nice about it and just move on but one of which kind of intimidates me. It’s not the tattoos, I love tattoos, it’s just strange advances I notice. Perhaps I’m just paranoid, but there was a rapist in the area, and while I don’t listen to gossip and such, I was told he was into heavy drugs. Which, I won’t judge him, but common sense tells me I should be more wary of him just in case. Also the strange advances like sitting so close to me outside on the stairs, and the more subconscious ones like how it makes me feel when he looked at me certain ways makes me feel I shouldn’t get too careless.

But anyway. Enough with the personal updates, I would like to share something else. While outside, I spotted something. A monarch butterfly just sitting on the ground. Of course I wanted a closer look but I noticed it wasn’t able to fly. His wings were damaged so I scooped him up in my hands and began talking to him. He crawled all over, he was adorable. I felt such pity because I know he wouldn’t survive very long so I picked some common weeds and let him suck the nectar and took him inside to show my sister. I then, sadly set him back outside to let nature take its course, there was nothing I could do for his wings. But after a while, I started to worry, he was easy prey for the kitties that roamed around so I went back out and decided to keep him till he passed on his own. I placed him in a large bowl with some leaves and gave him some syrup and banana because I wasn’t too sure what else to give him. But he certainly did enjoy it. I decided to name him Tom. I checked on Tom every half hour to say hi to him and see how he was doing. I was very happy. Although, he didn’t seem to happy. He kept trying to get out of the bowl even though I scooped him up by the banana again, he just wanted out.

I didn’t have the heart to leave him outside, rain was on its way and it was going to get very cold. I called mama to ask what I should do. She said to set him free. I’ve already had him for 12 hours and for Tom’s sake, I gave in and accepted I probably should, even though I didn’t want to. I scooped him up again and spoke to Tom about how I’m sorry and said my goodbye. I cried while I placed him in the safest place I could. Then I spent another two hours crying because I couldn’t save him and I left Tom out there all alone. I’m still crying now. I went and checked on him hours later and he was there and safe. I grew on Tom and I regret not saying I loved him before leaving him.

I just had to take a break from writing this to lay with mama and cry about Tom again. I wanted to know why I’m so weird to care for a butterfly so much. But I’m calmer now, still sobbing but at least not crying.

When I picked up Tom. I wasn’t thinking about grieving for him 12 hours later. Why not? -I keep asking myself. I know I would grieve for him so why care so much for such an “insignificant” creature? A dead butterfly shouldn’t mean anymore to me than the bacteria I kill by brushing my teeth everyday. Yet, I became very attached to him and named him. Why wasn’t I more selfish? Just ignore the injured insect to spare myself from the 2 hours I spent crying over him then worrying if I did the right thing.

I didn’t care. I wanted to help Tom. And I’ll do it again. The next time I see an orphaned kitten or a baby bird fallen from its nest, I will step in and try to help. I will nurture, name and love them until it’s time to let them go where ever they may be better off. I question my actions deeply. I know I’m willingly setting myself up for heart-break and perhaps it’s selfish to step in and take mother nature’s place. Maybe it was better off out there alone, what if I’m causing more harm than good?

Is it selfish to spare myself the heart-break and tears? Or is it selfish to step in where I probably do not belong because I want to? I cannot say for sure. There are times I do not jump at the chance to help. Like some baby animals I see all alone. I assume everything is fine and the mama will be back soon and it’s better off not to interfere. But when I feel I should step in, I will and I always will.

Forgive me, I didn’t know my sister had the video running so if your speakers are on, you may hear us in the background. But this is when we were feeding Tom.