Forever Home

I’ve heard it said that a dog is man’s best friend. I never really believed that at first, since dogs are just animals and don't understand friendship like humans do. Looking back, Ginger was the only one I was really close with, and of course I never realized it at the time. There’s another saying that I let slip past me without a second glance that says you don’t truly understand how good something is until it’s gone. That’s one lesson I had to learn the hard way. Regretfully I must confess that in order to learn that lesson, it had cost me my best friend in the process.

Apparently I still had a lot to learn, because even now as I stand and look out the window as, once again, my best friend is taken away from me, I can’t help but think I should have listened to all of the warning signs that were practically thrown into my face before it all came crashing down. It was like fate had decided I was no longer worthy of happiness. I somehow always managed to screw things up and there was no one left to blame but myself. I was alone in all of this. It all pointed back at me. At my stupid, arrogant self that thought I could handle any situation on my own. I had pushed everyone that I truly loved and needed aside, as if I considered them to be of no help.

This is the way I've always done things, especially after my parents died when I was only five. I let nobody try to explain what was going on inside of me. They couldn't really know how I felt or what it was like. They still don’t. No amount of probing and prodding from therapists let my thoughts and feelings out on a silver platter for them to go through and figure it all out so I could be satisfied. I was alone, and would always be alone to my thoughts, feelings and decisions. No one could possibly understand, nor would ever take the time to understand me. I should have learned by now that the only one who truly understood me, the real me, was Ginger. My beloved golden retriever. But like always, I never learn until it’s too late…