Part 22

Tragedy struck us one more time before we got out of our situation in our senior dog passing away. I came home to find him struggling, an emergency trip to the ER and we made the call to let him go peacefully. He was our first dog together, and the dog that got me into this career in the first place. He was my first experience with a fear reactive dog.

At this point things at work were not ok, immediately after putting him down I had to rush back to complete my shift. The thing about working in the pet industry is you are working with living breathing creatures that require care no matter what else is happening. There was no one to cover me or help me in that moment, so Ryan met me at work to take his body to be buried (Next to his late brother and on the farm property we grew up on) and I slapped on my fakest smile and got my energy as aligned as I could to be present with the dogs in my care. I was cracking, I was barely holding it together.

Our two remaining dogs were feeling not only the loss of their brother, but the destruction of their mom. Dog’s are incredibly in tune to what is happening around them. They may not understand the complexities, though they understand more than they are often given credit for, their ability to read people and energy and changes in the body is beyond what we can imagine. Weimaraners as a breed are highly intelligent and sensitive dogs. They are prone to anxiety’s of their own and they get very attached and bonded to their person. This is a beautiful thing but in our case it was also our curse. The dogs could feel what was happening to me and that made their environment stressful, and scary and unpredictable as my mental health rollercoastered. They felt my emotions constantly and all they wanted was to lay on top of me and fix it.

I however, was feeling smothered and I needed air and space from everything and everyone that was adding anything to my plate. I avoided certain people that I knew would want from me, I isolated from anything beyond what was most required of me. I needed this house to come through so that I could breathe just a little, I felt so out of air. Struggling to get to the surface for that breath of relief.

The week we lost Dega my pictures came in from my death to my 20s photo shoot. Although there were some I struggled with, not yet loving my body especially after the recent weight regain. Then there were others, those I really loved. There were many I felt truly beautiful in, powerful even. Wild. I really needed that boost, even if it was a bit conflicted I vowed then to learn to love each and every one. Those photos gave me another sip of air.

I was at work when the text came, and finally I breached the surface and got my first big breath.

I will never forget, not that I could I have a video…of the day our amazing realtor texted me and said She found her housing, we are set to close on schedule. I burst into tears, phone in one hand and a freshly scooped bag of dog shit in the other (not yet tied off). My coworker and best friend startled thinking something went horribly wrong. I couldn’t get the words out, furthering her panic when I finally spit it out, she found housing…it’s actually ours.

I am forever grateful for this coworker turned friend turned best friend turned sister. She saw me through some of my darkest shit, she kept me laughing, kept my secrets, shared life with me, survived hell with me. I am so grateful for the memories we shared and continue to share. I am forever grateful for this woman and I am so excited to see where her talents take her in life, I know the pet industry will benefit greatly from the work she does.

I love the video of us, me in uncontrollable tears announcing the seller found her housing and her cheering me on by my side. I am so grateful I was with her for that moment, not only wasn’t I alone I was with someone who was safe AND so happy for me. This was the best feeling. Wild.

I allowed myself to start getting ready, for this to happen. Not yet allowing myself to get fully excited but allowing myself to plan for our sprint out of here. I knew there was still the inspection to get through, and I knew there could be something found serious enough to make it not approved for first time home buyers. So I held my breath again.

I allowed myself to start purging any unnecessary things I didn’t want making it to the new house. I needed to deal with the mouse situation at our storage unit. This was the second time our unit had been infested with mice. I lost my shit the first time, and for the first time I didn’t just let it happen. I filed a claim, I spoke with management and we received some money for the damaged property. The next time I opened our unit to find a mouse eating the Irish Spring soap we were told to leave around to deter them, I accepted defeat. I didn’t have the fight in me to deal with any more shit. Did you know when they eat the Irish spring they then leave green mouse shit all over your stuff?

I went through our unit, repacked, purged and cleaned in prep to load everything on the U-Haul. I started ordering cleaning supplies, and immediate needs for the house. This was as close to excited I would get but I had this strange feeling. I knowing almost, that even if stuff went wrong we had options still we were not completely back to square one, almost like we now had a safety net to catch our plummet should shoes start falling.

The inspection came and there was nothing. Nothing. Not a single thing we were required to do in order to close on this house. That felt like a fucking miracle. I was calm now, not yet excited but not anxious just even and ready to do whatever I needed to get this done at least, for the moment. It felt really nice, I got to move forward on our plans to leave and I didn’t have to spend time thinking about anything going wrong. It felt like hope again.