Seleste's journal

Replies are welcome.

I've always held a love for animals. I'm that weird girl that wants a baby tiger as a pet. I've always had pet my whole life. My first dog was my mom's dog and her name was shirley. I remember being told she ran away. But the truth behind the matter is that she was killed. I never know how dogs were. I was told they were just nothing more than pets. But as i grew older and gained another dog, i knew they had emotions.

The second dog i got, which was my true first, was a little brown lab. I ended up naming her Hazel. And from the first moment i got her, i loved her. As soon as i saw her i picked her up, and as dirty as she was, gave her a big kiss on the forehead and hugged her tight. She was a nice dog. Everywhere i went she would follow me. This was when i liked out in the country and me and my cousins would go walk the roads. But as more people moved there, more tree's were torn down and animals were shifting around. Hazel was following me one day, and my little sister was too. A man came speeding down the road and he hit Hazel. I never cry at funerals. But when i saw Hazel wasn't alive anymore, i stood there for hours in that one stop, in the road and cried. My little sister had to go home to get my grandma to make me return to the house.

Animals seemed to be a obsession for mine, because they were like a release. After my abuse stopped i didn't know what to do with myself. One night i was at my cousin's trailer, and there was always a wild down that would roam the forest. We were told not to play in it because our family didn't trust the dog. Will, as it turns out, one rainy night i saw her walking across the way with something in her mouth. That something happened to be a puppy. Out of my two other cousins i was the youngest, and i was the only girl while they were boys. I convinced them to follow me into the woods on a hunt. They had no idea what we were looking for, i just said it was another of our imaginary games. We searched and searched those woods for days on a limited time. If the adults caught is in the woods we'd get in trouble for sure. After a week of searching, i found her and the pup in a open place. The mother had been shot and the pup was sleeping at her side. No matter how many times my two cousins yelled at me on the walk home, i didn't care, and i didn't put the puppy down either. I made her mine, and i named her Zeke.

Zeke was born in those woods so she knew her way around fairly well like i did. My little rag tag group had been disbanded since one of my cousins had moved to Kansas. And the other, the oldest spent his days with friends his age. Zeke was my best friend at that point. As she got older and bigger she would never leave me in the woods alone. She also wouldn't let us go too far in. No father than what i knew. A miracle happened one day, a neighbors dog followed her around when she came into heat. And my Zeke became a mommy. I was so happy. She gave birth on the porch behind a big wooden board. She growled and tried to bite at anyone that came near her and the pups. But as they were coming out, i crawled in and stayed with her, giving each puppy a name. I loved every single one of them, and when one was born dead, i gave it a funeral that i forced my little sister to attend. we dug a small grave and wrapped the little body and put it to rest.

Zeke was taken from my. I was tricked, i was told she was being taken to get fixed so she wouldn't have any more puppies. I was a naive child i didn't know any better. I gave Zeke a kiss and told her i would see her later. But i never did. I never got to see her later. Years went by. I never got a dog again. When i reached highschool, freshman year[technically the summer before]. My cousin came to me with a dog he couldn't keep anymore. Her name was Sheba. I loved Sheba. I played with her when she was a pup. She knew how to play fetch and she was attached to me already. I had her for four years. She too was taken from me. My mom wouldn't allow me to have her inside. Sheba was potty trained and she knew to stay off furniture. But my mom's husband didn't want her inside because he couldn't keep the pitbull he had. So Sheba had a fierce battle with fleas, and in the end it made her sick, so sick and weak that we had to take her to the pound. I remember crying. And i was told then that she would be fixed up and taken to a home. Like the naive idiot i am, i believed it that time. A few weeks later i was told she too had been put down.

Something else broke inside me when i learned of that news. And i just knew nothing would be able to help me. My aunt found this dog my senior year, and the dog ended up getting pregnant. My aunt, a dog lover, wanted to get rid of her, but wanted until she had and nursed her puppies. That was when i first met her. She was so small, so black and beautiful. I didn't get her then. No, i got her a year after that. She belonged to my great grandma, who had kept her as a replacement dog she'd lost. She couldn't take care of her anymore so she gave her to my cousin. He was mean, vile and abusive to this dog. I hated him for it, so i took her from him. She was still nameless. She was scared and hurt. The way she crawled from her cage to me when i brought her to her new home, she looked so fragile, so new to the world. I named her Bambi. At first she was drawn into herself. She didn't want me to touch me, she was afraid of everything. Her dog bowl i'd bought for her, the bed, birds from outside that were flying by. She was even afraid of the trashcan. I broke her from this. And i broke it with a hug and a kiss. Every morning until she accepted me. Now i can't get rid of her, she follows me everywhere. When i don't feel good, she sits close to my bed. When i'm happy she sits near me feet. When i'm sad she crawls into my lap, licks my face and lays her head on my shoulder.

I'm too attached to her. And i almost lost her. A big pit bull came into our yard once, he was loose while she was using the bathroom. I picked her up. I didn't care if he bite me, i didn't care if he hurt me. But i knew one thing, he wasn't going to hurt my Bambi. The connection we have together is strong. We are both abuse survivors, and i really have her as my encouragement.

I really liked your story even if it's sad. I know exactly how you feel animals because I feel the same way. I've never been attacked to my family like I am to animals. People just feel like possessions to me while I can actually feel connected to animals. It's probably an aspie thing. A few weeks ago I found 2 dogs running down the street, a neighbor caught one of them and I spent 2 hours trying to catch the other. By the time I caught him 3 other neighbors and the security guy were helping. The security guy was going to call animal control so I took the dogs because I didn't want them being separated or put down. I was thinking I would find them a good home through some of the animal rescue contacts I've made, but I should have known better It was an instant bond with these 2 and now there's no way I'm giving them up. I was planning on taking a pitbull from a shelter because they are so hard to find homes for, instead I ended up with a couple of 10 lb. chihuahua/corgi mix dogs