Can someone please check my essay for grammar mistakes. This is my first essay and I was suppose to write in past tense and I really feel like I struggled with that.
I had not always been cautious of other people. I remember a time that I trusted the people in my life. I had never doubted that I shouldn't have trusted them. I can even remember a time I believed in god. I remember feeling comforted by the thought that god actually existed. I had also believed that the people who loved me would never do anything to hurt me. As I entered my teenage years I began to loose all those feelings that had comforted me as a child. My mother had been the main contributor to most of the pain I had suffered. I entered my adult life as a single mother who had been harboring abandonment issues caused by my mother. God had disappeared gradually for me. My belief in god wouldn't be completely erased until May 10th 1991. A friend of mine had been visiting from out of town. I had invited her to stay the night at my house. She had accepted the invitation and asked me if my son could keep her company while I went to work the next day. I said that would be fine. When I left for work the next morning the two of them were sound asleep and I quietly slipped out so I didn't wake them. About the middle of my work day I had been paged to the office. As soon as I reached the office I had been informed, my house had started on fire and couldn't be saved and then I had been told that my friend and child had succumbed to the smoke and had not survived. I buried my son on the day I should have been celebrating mother's day. I became lost in every sense of the word. All those thoughts of comfort I had as a child had been replaced with negative subconscious issues that I had continued to battle ever since that happened. As it turned out I would not be lost forever because all I needed to regain some faith in my life would be to go up against something bad in my life and not feel helpless at the end. I was able to achieve that goal, when I brought home one very chubby, black, and tan dachshund named Cleo.
I had just decided I wanted a second dog .I already had one at home, a nine year old dachshund named Kaspar who I adored. My little buddy would suffer from anxiety every time he was left home alone. I worked during the day and my three children were in school the same hours I worked leaving Kaspar alone during the day. I started thinking about possible solutions to help him and I came up with a brilliant idea. If I get another dog he wouldn't be alone. I was sure it would work.
Getting another dog was not as simple as it sounded because I do not just go to a pet store or breeder and buy one. The only option for me is adoption; my new pet would be an orphaned animal. I primarily used a web site called petfinders.com. This website lists humane societies statewide with pictures of the animals and their stories. I had wanted specific qualities in my new pet making it nearly impossible for me to get what I wanted locally. Petfinders.com showed me what was available within the amount of miles I was willing to drive.
I already knew I wanted another dachshund because I loved everything about the one I had and believed I would be able to love another one just as much. I also wanted a specific age. I wanted my new dog to younger then Kaspar because he was nine years old and dachshund's life expectancy is ten years. If anything ever happened to Kaspar I would still have another one running around to help me through his loss. My last specific need was I wanted my new pet to healthy.
Two months had gone by since I started my search. If I had not stubbornly stuck to finding the specifics I wanted it may not have taken as long as it did One day while running my normal search I ran across Cleo the dachshund. I had first seen her picture; she was a pudgy, black, and tan shorthair dachshund with the sweetest big brown eyes, I simply couldn't resist taking a look. I clicked on her picture to which took me to her personal biography. I learned Cleo was nine years old. She had been with the same owner since she was a puppy. Her owner was elderly and had simply passed away in the night. Cleo's owner wouldn't be discovered until two days later. A neighbor had noticed she hadn't seen Cleo's owner for a couple of days and decided to check on her. Her door wasn't locked so she was able to walk in when she didn't get a response. The neighbor found Cleo's owner passed away and Cleo snuggled up against her owner's side.
After reading Cleo's biography all the specifics that I had stubbornly searched for were no longer an issue. I began to rationalize in my head how it would be fine if she were the same age as Kaspar. She did have a listed health problem of being over weight. I couldn't consider that as a health problem because she wouldn't be the only one fighting that battle in my house. The last thing I rationalized was Cleo's location which was a four hour drive one way making my drive a total of eight hours. I decided to make the drive if out of state adoptions were possible. I made a call and found out they are fine if I had been willing to make the drive. I went back on line and filled out the online adoption papers and would have to wait while my references were being checked. I got a call about a week later from Cleo's foster care mom giving me the good news that I had been chosen to adopt her. I set a date for the same weekend and made the four hour drive to Madison Wisconsin.
I had gotten lost quite a bit after reaching Madison trying to find the house. When I did find the house Cleo was outside waiting for me. I scooped her up and carried her in the house with me, so I could sign her adoption papers and pay her adoption fee of 200.00 dollars. As the lady was getting the paper work together she began telling me she had made some mistakes in her original information she had given me about Cleo. She had just recently found out that Cleo is actually ten years old instead of nine. I started feeling angry but kept in contained. She also told me that Cleo had in the past had problems with kidney stones but the vet she took Cleo to had assured the foster mom that kidney stones were no longer a problem for Cleo.
I began getting a sinking feeling in my chest and actually thought about turning around and going home with out her. I was scared because I knew I would get attached to a dog that in my mind was a high risk possibility of dying soon. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle her death emotionally. I don't know why I hadn't backed out right then but I didn't. I started silently talking my self back in to her adoption. I had her in my arms and just couldn't bring myself to walk away with out her. I paid the 200.00 adoption fee signed the adoption papers which made her officially mine and walked out the door.
Cleo spent her first week getting to know everyone and getting familiar with the house. After one week I could tell she had been getting more comfortable in her new home and family.
I had coped with the fear that haunted me in Wisconsin the same way I dealt with everything bad in my life; I blocked my fear out by acting as though it never existed. I would ignore anything bad to shield myself from pain for as long as I could. I knew it wouldn't be long before I had been forced to look at the bad choice I had made when I brought her home with me.
I was right because the second week she was with me I noticed she had abnormal drinking habits. When she drank water it was like she couldn't get enough of it and when she would go potty outside nothing was coming out. So I scheduled an appointment with my regular vet. I took Cleo in to her appointment and explained her symptoms. The doctor looked her over and explained he had to run some tests and take some x-rays of her kidneys. When the doctor was done testing her he brought her back out to me and we both waited in the lobby until he got the results back.
It took about a half an hour and he came out to talk to me about the results. He began with the test results and told me Cleo tested positive for a bladder infection. he had prescribe antibiotics to clear that up. The x-rays showed that the cause of the infection had most likely been caused by her kidneys which were full of kidney stones. Her condition was diagnosed as kidney failure. Her condition is fatal he said and there is no cure to help her. There would be nothing more he could do for her and there would be nothing more I could for her except love her until her kidneys completely fail.
I went right in to a silent breakdown while I calmly paid the bill and walked outside with Cleo in toe and no sooner then I walked out the door I began to cry. I put Cleo in to the car and got in myself so I could break down with out people starring at me. I wanted to scream! I was so pissed! I had just adopted a dyeing dog, I was mad at the vet for telling me there was no fix! I was mad at her former owner who had died with out making any plans for Cleo in the event of her death. I knew the lady I adopted Cleo from did not knowingly let me adopt a sick dog but I was mad at her to. I was mad at myself for making a huge mistake that day in Wisconsin when I didn't do what my instincts told me to do and walked out of that house with out her.
This is why I knew there was no god! If god really existed he would have known I was not emotionally equipped to deal with her death and should have protected from this mess, at least this one! I mean he had been absent on that day I went to work and lost two people I loved and every single thing I owned! I even lost my ability to remember my son. I think I was able to do that because the day I lost him I also lost all the pictures I had of him, his favorite blanket, and his clothes. Everything was gone. My pain was less if I hadn't allowed myself to remember. Even though every thing from that day was gone something like this little dog's life had so easily sent me over the edge, triggering all that devastation I had worked so hard to avoid.
Once I had calmed down, I drove home and spent some time thinking about all of the information I had just gotten. I decided not to trust the vet and did some research on the topic of kidney stones. From what I read it appeared as though I might have options to save her. I needed to take her to the University of Minnesota if I wanted to get her some help and if that doctor said there was no hope then I would know for sure that there was nothing I would be able to do. I scheduled an appointment at the University of Minnesota It had been at that hospital that I finally had gotten a little relief to all my emotional stress I had been carrying around. The doctors believed Cleo would be a good candidate for surgery; however surgery had involved some risk. Risks I had been willing to take, because if I didn't Cleo's death had been certain. Cleo would need to be treated with antibiotics and special food for five months before the University of Minnesota would be willing to do the surgery.
I felt as if I had been drug through each day in slow motion during those five months of treatment. When the day came to set a date for that surgery I had gotten just a little more relief, I think maybe I even began to regain a little faith. Faith in myself for getting her to this point and faith in people for helping me get to this point.
On the day of Cleo's surgery I had dropped her off at the hospital and drove back home to wait by the phone. All sorts of things had been running through my head. I actually was mad at my self for the positive feelings I had been having. I had been setting myself up for another fall and I knew even though she was just a dog, I would crash hard. Mainly because as I had been going through the steps to save Cleo, I wasn't just saving her I had been saving me.
I needed to deal with that one day in my life that I had lost everything and had continued on avoiding it all. After my sons funeral I would spend hours daydreaming about different ways I could have rescued Aaron and Ginny from the fire if I had been there. Once I came back to the real world I would remember I hadn't saved them. I had felt I had failed both of them both. So I am certain that Facing Cleo's health issues with the possibilities of her death staring me in the face. I was convinced I would fail her to.
I knew good things don't happen to me. So as I waited by the phone for the call that seemed as though it would never come. The phone rang. I answered the phone and it was the vet, He had told me I needed to choose because there was good news and bad news. Of course I would get bad news how could I even doubt that I wouldn't get bad news. I wanted that first.
The doctor began telling me the bad news; he explained the surgery on the first kidney went great. When he cut in to the second one he had started having problems. Cleo began to bleed to the point that the doctor started to panic, if he didn't hurry the procedure up he thought Cleo might bleed to death. He did get everything done and closed her up in time that she hadn't bled to death. As he rushed to close her up he had been forced to skip a step that he normally performed before closing. That procedure was, when he would count the sponges to make sure they were all accounted for. He did do the count after the close and that was when he discovered he was short a sponge. Other wise she is fine and he would need his sponge back and asked if he could do that in a couple of days.
That's it? That's my bad news? She is going to be fine. I saved her! I didn't let her down! I felt like for the first time in my life I was able to breathe. Most importantly her survival helped me find faith again.