I keep trying to think of something happy to write about during my time drinking. I can’t. So I’m going to keep on with the morbid and continue with something I mentioned in my last post. Chica. My beautiful Doberman dog I had. I was in a very abusive relationship when I was 17. I’ve probably said it before but ill get into that, just not today.
I had a Vauxhall corsa that I’d gotten from my mum for my 17th birthday. I couldn’t drive yet but between my mum and dad they were trying to teach me. When I was with this horrible man who beat me everyday I was so alone. The only friend I was allowed was his sister and to me that wasn’t a friend. Because she stood back while he hit me off walls and some other things we’ll get into. So I sold my car one night and I bought this beautiful Doberman puppy. She was my best friend and my only friend in probably the worst time of my life.
We went through so much together. For some reason my boyfriend never hit the dog. He hit me even harder though when my dog had an accident or chewed something. It was worth it though. I knew she wouldn’t be hurt and I didn’t mind taking a beating for her. I just loved her so much and I didn’t want anything to happen to her.
When I left this horrible man me and Chica lived with my mum. I thought she was ok because he didn’t touch her and I was very wrong. I had never spent any time away from her since I had her and now I was gone from this man. I started going out and seeing friends. She had developed qsevere separation anxiety.
I’m tearing up as I write this because I feel like a terrible person today. As I write this and share with the world about all my wrongs. I tried to take her places with me but not everyone liked that. I couldn’t stay in 24/7 I was an addict.
She ruined my mums house and pulled wooden panels off walls she chewed doors and she even once locked me out of my own house believe it or not. But I loved her so much. I did try and tire her out before I left but no matter what I tried she would never settle. It got to the point I would put my body warmer on her. So she could have my smell on her.
My mother couldn’t see her suffer any longer and she did all the arrangements with an amazing Doberman charity for Chica to be rehoused with people down at the border where she would be happy and travel all over the world with them. I still get a Christmas card every year from her and as much as it makes me happy. It breaks my heart a little. I hated my mum for doing this to me. But she done the best thing. I see that now. I just want to see my beautiful dog one more time and apologise for her dad beginnings when she was with me.
I have two small dogs now and a crested gecko. I love animals and my animals are fine. I spoil them and they show it but they are all I have and probably all I ever will have.
I will have to take satisfaction that Chica is being looked after now and she’s a different dog. She’s happy. That’s good enough for me.