Sakura.
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- May 1, 2024
- 313
Our family dog developed a health problem some time ago. Fortunately, this problem isn't life-threatening and doesn't cause him pain or suffering. However, it's also somewhat bothersome and, above all, very unsightly, which only serves to reinforce its perceived seriousness. My dad took our dog to the vet, but it turned out that this health problem isn't so simple to solve. To solve it, surgery would be necessary, which for some reason could only take place in a city about 150 kilometers from our home, where he might (or rather, "probably") have to be transported more than once, and this distance is a problem for us. Of course, the whole thing would also cost a significant amount of money. And all this, especially when our dog is already 13 years old. He's not suffering or dying, but he could potentially pass away peacefully in his sleep literally every night. For all these reasons, my dad decided against treating our dog. I feel very sorry for our dog and absolutely want him to be treated, even if it cost a fortune and even if he only lived for a few months afterward... But unfortunately, I had no way of changing my father's mind... In my country, in the countryside, older people treat a dog as a tool to guard the house and to be somewhat neglected, not as a companion or family member to be cared for. Unfortunately, my dad shares this same attitude, and no matter how much it hurts, there's nothing I can do about it...
Our dog used to constantly run off our property - not from us, of course, but simply liked to wander around on his own, which we couldn't do anything about either. Fortunately, he was never aggressive and didn't cause any problems, although I fully understand how inappropriate it was, even though there was nothing we could do about it. As he got older, he stopped running away like that, but it still happened occasionally, at much shorter distances. On Sunday, he also ran off near our house, and someone must have noticed his health problem, because he reported us to the city police. They came to our house today to check on us, threatened my father with regular criminal proceedings for not treating our dog, and ordered him to start treatment immediately. I don't know what to think about all this yet. Perhaps it was a good thing, if at least something like this forces my father to start treating our dog and if it gets rid of the problem. My only fear is that my dad, faced with this situation – either treating our dog or continuing to live with this problem and facing legal consequences – will decide on the third option, which is to put him to sleep…
I often think about our dog and fear that he will die... He was with me for 13 years... He is the last remaining link to all the things that have happened in my life during those 13 years... I don't want to lose him... I want it to happen as late as possible... And now I'm afraid that my dad will take my dog to the vet tomorrow or the day after and just come back without him... He might make such a decision secretly, and do it secretly from me. He might make it openly, and I won't be able to do anything to change his mind... I don't know if I'll be able to maintain any contact with my father if he does something like that...
However, I started writing this thread for a completely different reason than my own mental burden related to the entire situation. During the police check, the "interrogation," my dad declared twice that our dog, despite this problem, "is happy". And those words are what really struck me... And it's not even about our dog, notabout how much that statement contrasts with this ugly-looking health problem, even though it doesn't actually cause our dog any suffering or pain per se. Although now, while writing this thread, I'm actually really hurt by those words about our dog, by the contrast between the image of the old dog, no longer having the strength for any kind of joyful life, and the words that he is happy... But before that, however...
...I was struck by the words my dad himself said:
"He's happy"...
"Happy"...
I can imagine my dad saying that about me... That I'm happy too... When I am unable to even exist physically due to mental suffering...
I can't explain what I mean well. I don't know if anyone reading the end of this thread will understand what I mean... But that's what struck me... The words "he's happy"... Sincerely spoken by my father... Just like the word "happy" spoken by the protagonist's mother to the protagonist in "Joker." I even checked now the script for that movie and it turns out I remembered that scene completely differently than it actually happened. But I remembered it as his dying mother, telling him he was "happy," and, unaware of his reality, she truly thought so herself... When he actually "wasn't happy for a second of his entire life"... And I, without any connection to this character, without any identification with him, was also not happy for a second of my life... And that's why I feel so destroyed now and I almost want to cry when I hear my father's words in my head: "He is happy"...
Our dog used to constantly run off our property - not from us, of course, but simply liked to wander around on his own, which we couldn't do anything about either. Fortunately, he was never aggressive and didn't cause any problems, although I fully understand how inappropriate it was, even though there was nothing we could do about it. As he got older, he stopped running away like that, but it still happened occasionally, at much shorter distances. On Sunday, he also ran off near our house, and someone must have noticed his health problem, because he reported us to the city police. They came to our house today to check on us, threatened my father with regular criminal proceedings for not treating our dog, and ordered him to start treatment immediately. I don't know what to think about all this yet. Perhaps it was a good thing, if at least something like this forces my father to start treating our dog and if it gets rid of the problem. My only fear is that my dad, faced with this situation – either treating our dog or continuing to live with this problem and facing legal consequences – will decide on the third option, which is to put him to sleep…
I often think about our dog and fear that he will die... He was with me for 13 years... He is the last remaining link to all the things that have happened in my life during those 13 years... I don't want to lose him... I want it to happen as late as possible... And now I'm afraid that my dad will take my dog to the vet tomorrow or the day after and just come back without him... He might make such a decision secretly, and do it secretly from me. He might make it openly, and I won't be able to do anything to change his mind... I don't know if I'll be able to maintain any contact with my father if he does something like that...
However, I started writing this thread for a completely different reason than my own mental burden related to the entire situation. During the police check, the "interrogation," my dad declared twice that our dog, despite this problem, "is happy". And those words are what really struck me... And it's not even about our dog, notabout how much that statement contrasts with this ugly-looking health problem, even though it doesn't actually cause our dog any suffering or pain per se. Although now, while writing this thread, I'm actually really hurt by those words about our dog, by the contrast between the image of the old dog, no longer having the strength for any kind of joyful life, and the words that he is happy... But before that, however...
...I was struck by the words my dad himself said:
"He's happy"...
"Happy"...
I can imagine my dad saying that about me... That I'm happy too... When I am unable to even exist physically due to mental suffering...
I can't explain what I mean well. I don't know if anyone reading the end of this thread will understand what I mean... But that's what struck me... The words "he's happy"... Sincerely spoken by my father... Just like the word "happy" spoken by the protagonist's mother to the protagonist in "Joker." I even checked now the script for that movie and it turns out I remembered that scene completely differently than it actually happened. But I remembered it as his dying mother, telling him he was "happy," and, unaware of his reality, she truly thought so herself... When he actually "wasn't happy for a second of his entire life"... And I, without any connection to this character, without any identification with him, was also not happy for a second of my life... And that's why I feel so destroyed now and I almost want to cry when I hear my father's words in my head: "He is happy"...
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