Well my mom's chihuahua, Maya, died at the age of 13 years last night.
Upper respiratory infection and congestive heart failure.
I talked to my sister because she called me about it and I told her I'd better not talk directly to mom about it.
1. Because she was all upset.
2. Because all I really want to say to her is "I told you so" and that's not very nice.
I want to say I told you so because that dog has been wheezing for months now with a nasty cough and I kept saying they better take her to the vet.
What did mother say?
"I've been too busy."
And the vet she liked was an hour away.
"Mark my words," I said, "you better make some time or she's gonna end up dead."
Well, they wouldn't take her and didn't take her and finally I called the stupid vet that was an hour away and I made an appointment for her. I don't know what the hell good a "better vet" does you if you don't ever go there. One down the street would have been better than nothing, in my opinion. So my mom was miffed that I made an appointment for the dog behind her back because she would have to take her on a Saturday morning but wtf?
Anyway so they gave her a shot then and gave her some meds to give her.
You know the kind of meds you have a powder and a liquid and you mix them up and refrigerate. Well they didn't tell her they mixed it up already and of course she didn't check the bag until the next day which meant she didn't refrigerate it and so she only got a few doses of it before it was bad. So how does one get more? Drive an hour back to the vet of course! Did she do that????
What do you think?
NO! Who has time for that!?!?!?!
So now the beloved dog is dead and my mom is all boohooing about it and all I can think is "if you really cared so much you would have taken the time to take preventative measures."
And so I don't want to talk to her because I know my fat mouth will say something unsympathetic. Why does my mom have to be so lazy with her things? She's a workaholic so I can't really call her lazy per se, but look what she does with her home life?!?!
The kicker is her and my step-dad whom I call "daddy" came home and watched, of all things, Must Love Dogs. I think they like wallowing in misery. That's all I can think of. My sister and I were on the phone with her in the room there talking about it and she said "Why didn't you just watch The Mummy or something?"
"Yeah," I said, "The Mummy 4, The Dog that came back and ate all your food."
They still have two cats left but I mentioned I don't care to have any more cats because I've seen so many dead ones in my lifetime. And that's enough for me. They just make my home smell like shit anyway and come to find out after 20 something years of being around them, I didn't realize I was allergic to them until I finally was in a home without them around. No longer am I the sneeze demon I used to be my whole life. Seriously, what an eye-opener that was. But anyway....so we joked a little about the dog and tried to make light of the whole thing. My sister told me she said she didn't want anymore dogs or cats. The replacement animal syndrome would go on no longer.
To which I added, "This is why I like fish."