Dana: Not playing well with others

[dichertz]

Hello

I am not feeling very amusing today, so I am going to take a posting break.
This is not an x999x type of post, I am not concerned about coming here too often and I most certainly am not considering stopping drinking, but a couple of things have happened here recently that have disturbed my sense of balance.

I do NOT like feeling unbalanced.

Please, understand, this is NOT an attention getting post. I do not want compliments and I do not want anyone to say "Please Stay".

You have all been so gracious to me, and kind with your posts, attentive to me, appreciative of my humor and interested in what I have to say, that ANY additional words are unnecessary.

Since I am a person who considers honesty and being truthful the most important facet of my personality, I will explain what is bothering me.

1-Connie's cat being murdered.

This has really brought back some devastating feelings. My dog Woodstock, a Beagle, died on August 13, 1988. I said that Woodstock died of old age. She didn't die of old age, she was put to sleep. She, in a very short time, lost the use of her rear legs (there was no pain or anything) she just simply could not walk. When my mother and I took her to the Vet, the Vet said that this was a common problem with older Beagles and there was very little that could be done, but there was a surgery that MIGHT help, but there was no guarantee that the operation would be successful. We asked how much the surgery would be, and the Vet said it would be around $7500. We looked at each other and both agreed that not only could we not AFFORD the surgery,it would be better if we did not subject her to the trauma of surgery. We let the Vet take her and she was put to sleep.

That was that. Unpleasant, to be sure, but not the point of the story.

Three years ago a friend of mine had a dog that was even older than Woodstock was when she died. Poochie was blind, deaf and could barely move. My friend's family decided to have Poochie put to sleep. She had a 12 year old son (an only child, like myself) who loved that dog as much as I loved mine. I was also 12 when Woodstock died.

I was not in Boston when Poochie died, but my friend Erin told me that David (her son) held Poochie when he was given the shot that put him to sleep and that he wasn't scared or alone.

I talked to her for a few more minutes, hung up the phone and completely lost it. BAD. I was crying so hard, I couldn't breathe. I was doubled over with emotional agony.

I DIDN'T KNOW YOU COULD BE WITH YOUR DOG WHEN THEY PUT IT TO SLEEP!

I left Woodstock alone to die. Scared and alone.
I cannot forgive myself for that.
My mother and I loved her and left her alone do die.

(God, how can crying, something that does not cause any physical pain hurt so much)?

Reading Connie's post brought that back.

Guilt and shame and regret.
Just like it happened five minutes ago.

Having a photographic memory is great when you take exams in college and want to remember someone's phone number, but you also cannot FORGET ANYTHING even if you want to.

SO I have been reliving that afternoon of August 13, 1988 over and over again, and as much as I would like to, cannot stop it.

Second problem:
There has been a lot of ugliness on this website lately.
Without going into unnecessary detail, the situation reminded me of my youth where there were unavoidable interactions with the nemesis of all playgrounds: The Bully.

I was bullied, as we all were. Nothing terrible, but the scars from those days haven't gone away either, and were brought back to the surface recently.

You see, when I was in my early to mid teens, my reaction to the bullies in my life (and I still remember their names) was to fight back. And I DID fight back. HARD.

I received a 2nd Dan Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do, and a Shodan Ho (Black Belt) in Matayoshi Kobudo (Okinawan Weaponry).

I was NEVER bullied again, and never allowed anyone to be bullied.
Until recently.

After reading a certain post made earlier today, I realized for the first time that there are still bullies in this world that can hurt with their words and enjoy doing it. And if Chris had not intervened, some pain was going to be caused to an innocent person.

The combination of Connie's cat being killed by bullies, my guilt over abandoning my dog to die alone, seeing such ugliness, viciousness and hatred and not fighting back, all has contributed to me being pretty unhappy right now.

I don't feel very funny today, and honestly, since I don't bring anything else of value to this website, I am taking a self imposed temporary posting vacation.

I will be back I assure you.
When I feel funny.

I leave you with the words of Charles Schultz:

In the last interview days before he died, Al Roker (don't ask me why it was Al Roker) asked him if he had anything to say to the fans who had been reading Peanuts for 50 years.
Mr Schultz started crying and said:

"I can't believe you like what I did".

I can't either.

Dana

[dichertz]

Moderators,

Lock this post please.
I do not want any responses to it.

Dana