[ SECRET POST #4842 ]

[case]

⌈ Secret Post #4842 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 01 pages, 17 secrets from Secret Submission Post #693.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Comments

Re: TW: Death

[(Anonymous)]

I’m sorry about your dog; I’m glad she had such a loving home.

I miss my dogs, but one of them caused me to probably narrowly avoid getting put on a 72 hour psychiatric hold once.

My mom and I brought our second dog home from the pound, where she’d apparently been returned three times for being too much for her new owners to handle. She was a year old, about 25 pounds, and whatever mutt mix she actually was, she looked a bit like a tiny blond afghan hound.

On her second morning with us, she took off running down the street. I—in my pajamas, barefoot, hair unbrushed, on my period, and trying to get ready for a day at high school—took off running after her.

Well, sort of. I was (am) short, fat, and in-athletic. New dog fucking loved running. I did my best to sprint after her, screaming the name she’d come from the shelter with when I stopped to wheeze for breath. She had at least a block’s worth of lead, until we got almost a mile from home, and she vanished.

I staggered home, crying, limping, and freaked out because I’d lost our new dog and the best case scenario was that she’d end up at the pound again and she’d get a new, more responsible owner.

A little old lady pulled her car over and asked if I needed help. I was so flipped out I got in the car, only instead of following my directions home, the lady said she would take me to the police station, at which point I lost it entirely in fine meltdown fashion and she let me out.

I went home. Where my new dog, whose name I had screamed as I sprinted down the street with her so far ahead people couldn’t tell I was in pursuit, was waiting in the front yard. Choo-Choo got renamed that same day. I got to stay home from school because I’d torn up my feet.

And my neighbors probably assumed I was a train obsessed whackjob for years after.