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October 29, 2004

It's been a year

It was last year on this day when my best friend and furkid, Frisky, died at the vet's office. I thought he was just going in for a checkup since he had been having a few problems prior to that day, so you can imagine my shock and sadness when the vet called and told us that he wasn't going to make it. My mom and I rushed there as fast as we could to be with the little guy when he needed us. I can still see him lying on the table when I walked in the room; trying not to cry but failing miserably. I held my little man for as long as I could, but his heartbeat kept getting weaker. The vet finally asked if he should just put him down so he didn't suffer anymore, and my mom said yes. I held onto his little paw the whole time, too, but I couldn't watch the vet putting the needle into him. I just hope that he knew I was there and that I was still holding him. I hope he knew how happy he made me for the thirteen years he was with me. I hope he knew that I loved him and I still do. I miss that ball of fur so much...I can still feel his fur on my hands from that night.

I realize to some they figure "it's just a dog" but he was more than that to me. He was my best friend and furkid. He was always there when I needed a snuggle or a kiss. I could tell him anything and he wouldn't go blabbing it to others, and I knew his love for me was real. He was a part of my life for thirteen years, and I remember the first day we brought him home along with his last day alive. I still cry when I think about him and I can never bring myself to describe that last night. I wasn't ready to let him go and I'd give anything right now to have another few hours with him. I miss him greatly.

Some of you may be wondering exactly why I'm posting this now. Well, as it stands, our friend Mag (I'm using her online name as I don't want to reveal her real one without her permission) recently found out that her furkid, Peanut, has cancer. She had expressed how she wanted to be able to pay for some treatment if only just to help make Peanut more comfortable in her final time. A few of us who consider her a great friend wanted to do something to help, so we decided to take donations to give Mag a chance to at least help even a little to ease Peanut's suffering. She's being given the chance to do something I only wish I could've done, and I sincerely hope some of you out there will contribute. We love our pets like they're our own children, and they deserve to be given the same love that any good mother would give her kids. If you'd like to donate something, please send it to vix's PayPal address (amanda@cybervixen.net) with "Donation for Peanut" or something along those lines as the subject so she knows what it's for. None of us knew if Mag had a PayPal address or not, so everything vix gets sent for Mag will be given to her at a later time.

Let's try to help her give Peanut the best care she can so that Peanut's last days are peaceful and filled with waggy tails and happy puppy kisses. Let's give her the chance some of us wish we had.

Posted by ladyx at 11:07 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 14, 2004

Medical Commentary - EWWWW!

Medicine is getting too freaky for me!

Face Transplants are up and coming. I think someone saw Face/Off one too many times (and yes, there is a retarded / in the title of that movie. It's not a typo. That / has confused and puzzled people as much as the critical acclaim this dumb movie got puzzled me). It's sad when we go to John Travolta to seek the knowledge to move medicine towards the future. What next? I just hope the one person who saw Battlefield Earth wasn't a medical researcher.

Another weird thing, medical chips are approved for the implanting. This means you can get a chip with your number implanted into you! Why do I think mine is going to be 666? That just seems freaky to me. You check into a hospital and someone will scan you like a box of Raisin Bran and find out who you are and see if ordered the veggie meal or eggs at the hospital. I don't really need a bar code. I'm not a can of soup. If the doctor wants to know what my name is, he can read it or ask someone. God forbid medical professionals actually have to have patient interactions or talk to next of kin.

Medicine, who needs it.

Posted by vixen at 09:13 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack