Phase 2

Let me tell you a little about what this is like for me. First of all when something bad happens you find out who your friends are because they’re immediately at your side no matter how awful it is and my situation tested that to the fullest. It tested my best friend Paula probably the most and she’s been a trooper. She dropped everything to come without me even asking for her to come to my side when I told her I thought Luna was dying. I can’t commend or thank her enough for that or for sitting with me as I sobbed with the Son of a bitch that likely did it to Luna sitting across the room nowhere near me and me clueless and in shock and desperately trying to get a grip and holding Dexter.

After I calmed enough and it was late Paula told me that she would come to get me to go bury Luna and had asked if the kids could come and I told her that they could. So the next morning Dad called to let me know he dug my Luna’s grave next to Buddy, the family golden retriever and I called Paula and she came with the kids and she had a small container with 5 monarch butterflies, one for each year of my Luna’s life.  The kids wanted to see Luna before we placed her into the ground and my Dad grabbed the blanket she was wrapped in and uncovered part of her and the kids asked why not uncover her completely and Paula explained to the kids that they didn’t want to see that because the cats eyes are open after they pass.  Anie and Alex took turns petting Luna and crying and saying their good-bye’s to my sweet girl. I also petted my girl before helping my Dad wrap her back in the blanket she’s had since she was a kitten and placing her into the ground. I helped my Dad place some dirt over her and asked the kids if they also wanted to and they did as well. Then when we were done Paula gave me the container to release the monarch’s and I opened it and took them out one at a time. They hung around the yard on my Dad’s flowers and on my hand for a while and Paula, my Dad and the kids walked around the garden looking at different things my Dad planted. He showed them where he had some raspberries which made the kids happy and also gave them some rhubarb.

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I was given shit from the son of a bitch for not including him on burying Luna. I said you didn’t want to be anywhere near me, you left me alone to cry myself to sleep and didn’t want anything to do with me today and didn’t think you needed a written invitation to go with me.  He didn’t want to fucking go. He didn’t want any part of it and he sure as fuck didn’t want me grieving or to deal with any of that. I did that on my own. Mostly crying at night and holding Dexter and desperately missing my girl.

During my grief with Luna in fact just 4 days later I found out my friend Steve Yang, from New York City died. His brother Michael texted me from Steve’s phone and I called him and he explained that Steve had a stroke and went into a coma and he had passed away on the weekend.  I still don’t feel I’ve properly grieved for my friend but I have a plan for that. It may not be a great plan but I found 7 cigars and I want to talk to Roger and Raja about sending them each 2 or maybe 3 and I keep one and us picking a date, maybe his birthday or something and talking and smoking his cigars and telling stories about times we had with Steve.

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Paula was there a lot during the whole time I was moving from the assholes apartment to the house where Dexter was murdered. She was bringing me to my allergy shots and to my therapist appointments and trying to figure out what was wrong with me. She encouraged me to go back into therapy and I knew I needed it and found out why between September and October with the series of unfortunate events.  The asshole was definitely increasing his wrath which I didn’t know for sure but when he got me from work and Dexter was in the cat nook sneezing blood with blood on his nose I knew something was amiss. But he said he was running into things. That was Friday and Monday after my allergy shot on September 17th Paula and I brought Dexter in and that’s when I got the text about my “SHITBALL cat tore his hand open” with a pic and found Dexter in the nook with one eye practically swollen shut and covered in his urine. I was screaming that I felt that Randy did it and Paula tried saying we don’t know what happened. That’s why we take him in. When checked my Dr. French he showed signs of stress but seemed calm but we helped get the embedded carpeting out of his split and bloody nails.  I KICK myself every fucking day for not leaving at that moment. Every fucking day. Dexter would be alive. Except I didn’t leave Dr. French just said it was probably the move and Luna dying that upset him and she wanted him to take the antibiotic and to bring him home and make him comfortable so I did. I brought him home and brought his food and water and litter into my room where asshole and I didn’t sleep together cause he said he couldn’t but yet we were a couple. Or so he said. But it is all a bunch of bullshit. I’m fine that I slept without him. Especially now. I feel that he could’ve KILLED MY ASS in my sleep. And it pissed him off that I told him to leave Dexter alone and that I was taking care of him and that I had to give him antibiotics and keep him calm. I took care of my baby and he was getting better. I don’t know how the fuck or what the fuck that fucking monster of a man did on the 17th but Dexter mostly laid in my bed and ate and allowed me to comfort him and give him his antibiotics daily. He then started getting up and moving around more normally towards the end of the week but acted skittish when the asshole wanted to come in.

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Dexter slept with me the night of the 7th and played fetch with me as normal and ate and drank and loved on me and slept on the pillow next to me and I woke up with Dexter on the pillow and snuggled with him before getting ready to go get my allergy shot. I hugged him and kissed him and told him I loved him before I left for work and made sure he had food and water and his box was good. Then we know what happened after I got home on the 8th of October.

Paula came to my Dad’s to get me and we went to get my phone charger from work and then to Trig’s so I could get some ginger ale and something to maybe eat. I was dazed and sad and didn’t know what to think or anything. Paula didn’t know either. I called Alison the next day and we talked about the possibility of doing an autopsy and how much it would cost and I had to decide what to do. Paula took me to see my doctor at aspirus to increase my anxiety meds and give me something for panic attacks (alprazolam) and something to help me sleep (hydroxyzine) and the sleep stuff didn’t help me sleep especially while I was still living with the asshole. See I basically got to pretend I found and not show him I was dying inside and that my world was falling apart without my babies. He wanted me all to himself and thought that by getting rid of them that would make it so I’d go to him. He was WRONG. I love those cats. They didn’t make me feel like shit about myself every day, they didn’t complain I chewed too loudly or that I walked too loudly or every little thing was not good and bitch how bad of a girlfriend I was. The cats were always happy to see me and have me snuggle with them and love on them. They comforted me and my anxiety and little did I know until the 28th that HE took them away from me.

On Wednesday Paula and I went to my cousin Michelle’s so I could see Big Jane and some of the other horses after talking with Michelle. Jane gave me a big hug and it was comforting being with her and Paula. I talked to Paula and said we should probably bury Dexter because it was going to cost a bunch to get the autopsy at the time and so on a snowy Thursday we went to Dad’s and buried Dexter.  Frank helped my Dad dig the hole for Dexter since the ground was getting harder.  I took my Dad’s leather coat at that time because I hadn’t brought a coat with and it was sort of a security blanket at the time. That and the scarf that Paula arm knitted for me which I still wear.

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