Sometimes at parties, drunk people come up to me and say I have a great tumblr. It's weirdly validating.
Cindy. 22. New Jersey.
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My puppy was the cutest. 

My puppy was the cutest. 

cindythinksyourelovely:

One day I accidentally started taking a video of my dog instead of taking her picture.
Yes, I talked to my dog as if she was a three year old baby.
As you can see from this video, she was not impressed. 
Miss you.

I have to say, I’ve been pretty fortunate in my life so far. Before this past November, I hadn’t experienced any real loss in my life. Sure, I lost my grandma when I was four, but I was so young, and we weren’t really very close, that it honestly didn’t affect me in any deep or significant way. The occasional distant relative would pass, I would go to the funeral, and yes, I would cry, but honestly, I’m so emotional that I would cry at the funeral of a stranger. But I had never lost anyone close to me, never experienced the heartbreak of losing a whole part of my life, until November 3, when I lost my dog, Angel. 

Angel was born August 27, 2001, right in Waldwick, NJ. I’ll never forget the first time I held her; she squirmed out of my hands and i caught her two inches before she hit the pavement. I figured, well, I probably just scrambled her brains, so if something is wrong with her, it’s only fair that I deal with it. And this is part of the reason why I picked her. True story.

There was something more to it, though. There was some other reason why I picked Angel out of her brother and sister. What it was, I really don’t know. Her sister really was the cuter one, to be honest. Her fur was darker, and she was tinier. But there was something, I’ll never know what, that made me pick Angel. Maybe she picked me? That sounds so stupid and cliche, but that must be it.

There were just some things so unique about Angel that, looking back on it, I realize I must have scrambled her brains a bit that fateful day when she was a newborn. She loved tea. One day, Mom had a cup sitting on the drawer next to the couch and got up just for a minute. When she came back Angel had her entire puppy face in tea cup. It was the most ridiculous thing I had seen. And every morning when she was young she would run up the stairs and grab a dirty sock from my dad’s laundry. Bah.

But for me, what was so amazing about Angel was that she never, ever bit anyone. Not once, not even when she was a puppy. As she got older, she never tried to run away from home. I wonder if it’s because she really loved us or because she knew we’d always be there to feed her. I’d like to think it’s a little bit of both.

It’s hard, because I feel like I lost my best friend, and I don’t know if people realize just how much it hurts. She’s been a part of my life for the past nine years, and now that she’s gone, it’s like there’s a hole inside me that won’t be filled by another dog, or cat, or even a person. I think my biggest regret is that I wasn’t there for her when she was put down. Most people don’t want to be there, but more than anything I wanted make sure she knew how much I loved her right until the end. She went extremely peacefully, though, and I guess that’s all I could ask for.

Goodbye Angel, I love you and miss you more than you can imagine. 

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