A while back, I was looking at pictures my mom had taken with her digital camera. (This was in like, february.) I saw pictures of my dog pulling me on ice skates, I saw pictures of my dog smelling the camera, there was me and my sister on xmas, me dressed up as Dernhelm for the ROTK opening... And one looked vaugely familiar. There was something cream-colored on my shoulder. To my utter despair, when I zoomed in it was my dead hampster when he was still alive, sitting on my shoulder and posing for the camera. My hampster Hamfast, who I had nearly forgotten about! I remembered in that moment the day he had died. My dad made it final... he said the word dead. And then I knew he would never climb into my hair and snuggle into it, he would never pose for the camera again. I thought how selfish and without feeling I had been, in the space so short after Hamfast had died. About a week after, we adopted a dog and Hamfast was driven from my minf. I closed my eyes and walked slowly by my parent's room. A lump rose in my throat and tears sparkled in my eyes, but everyone else was still in the house and I was determined not to show emotion until I got to my room, where I could talk to my stuffed dragon, Horns. I was already sad and spooked out when I entered- Utter, sudden shock hit me when I got in. Horns was ripped to pieces on the floor. I knew immediately that Wolfie, my dog, had done it, and I knew he knew no better. But I had lost the only one who would listen to me without sending me to a shrink or putting me on pills as I surmised anyone who "cares about people's problems" would. I swore I would repair her, but months have passed and Horns still lies mutilated in the closet in a pillowcase, stuffing everywhere.
I don't know why I typed this, but I was reminded of Hamfast in a post on Powerpets and I had to say something.
|