Gone Away Before Too Long

After prom, Jason went back to Indiana. He had issues with his father, and he was desperate to get away. So desperate, that some nights he even slept in his car, just so he wouldn’t have to be in the same house as him. I begged him to come to Ohio, my parents adored Jason, and would have allowed him to stay with us. But, Jason didn’t want to leave his two sisters behind. So he stayed, and often took the brunt of his father’s anger. He came down as much as he could, and I tried to go up there on weekends. It was harder for me to come up there, with school ending and finals, and not having a concrete place to stay. Sometimes his father allowed me to stay there. Sometimes I snuck in. Sometimes I bunked with Drew or Nick. I hated having Jason come down here though, because I knew it took away from his get-away fund. He said I was worth it though, and it made it hard to argue with him.
After I graduated, I put off going to school for a year. I wanted to work and make money, I wanted my own place and a chance to try to stand on my own two feet. So I moved in with a friend, and my first course of action was getting a dog.
I’m a very pet oriented person. It stems from the fact that I never lived in a place that I was allowed to have anything bigger than a rabbit. I’ve owned hamsters, gerbils, fish, rats, rabbits, and my Mom allowed me to get an ornery old cat named Bubba, but I always wanted a dog.
When we went to meet him, he was so happy, he couldn’t hold in his own pee. That’s when I knew he was the one for me. He was a boxer/lab mix who had been found on a farm with no food or water. He was still a tad underweight, but the sweetest little guy I ever met. Even at 4 months old, he weighed in at 30 lbs. He was going to be a big boy. He was going to be my boy.
Jason and I had been going through… A rough patch. Things with his Dad were hard, and he was shutting me out. I never knew where he was going to be, so sometimes it was tricky to get a hold of him. I was trying to be understanding, but it was hard to have a boyfriend who was MIA. He had also been talking more and more about joining the Marines, which I was strictly against. I figured a dog would take up a lot of time, be a nice distraction and also a good companion.
On the drive home from the people we got him from, my roommate and I tried out different names for him. Tressel, Buckeye, Buck, Coach… None of those fit him. We tried regular names, like Joe, Roger, and even Ed. Those didn’t work out. We got off track, and somehow ended up quoting lines from favorite movies and shows.
“They call me Tater Salad.” My roommate deadpanned.
“That’s it!” I shouted. “Tater Salad!”
Tater was a good dog, for the most part. He hated being left alone, but really, what dog doesn’t? He was hyper like most puppies were, and was very food motivated (which, could have been a good or bad thing. Good when it came to training, he responded to treats. Bad, however, when it came to leaving him alone. We hadn’t yet gotten him a crate, and one night, and I still have no idea how he did this, he managed to somehow get the oatmeal out of the counter above the sink. He dragged that oatmeal all over the house. When we first walked in, I had thought it was cat litter, as he also sometimes liked to get into my roommate’s cats litterboxes. But no, it was oatmeal. How he got it, and more importantly WHY he picked oatmeal out of everything IN the cabinet, I will never know. It was really too funny/strange to get angry at him for.)
Tater went everywhere with me. It was even harder to make it to Indiana now, because I wouldn’t leave him at home. He slept with me, went to the store with me, car rides were his favorite. We went on long walks together, he listened to me when I cried over the lastest blow up with Jason, kept me warm. He played, and quit playing when I was done. He did baths well, and even loved to swim with me. I believe everyone has a soul mate. And it is my honest opinion that Tater was mine.
I came home that day in December, and while Tater came to the door to greet me, he didn’t jump on me and give me “hugs” per usual. I set my stuff down, and shook the leash.
“Wanna go bye bye, big guy?” I asked.
Tater walked the opposite direction, laid down on the couch, and sighed.
“Um, Tater. Outside?” I questioned, walking over to him.
I noticed when I sat down next to him that I could see his ribs poking through his skin. I was sure it hadn’t looked like that yesterday. While he had been a little underweight when we had adopted him, he had put on weight nicely. But, it couldn’t have happened overnight, could it? And then, looking at him up close, I could see he was shaking slightly.
“Oh, big boy, what’s wrong?” I asked, feeling his forehead as if I could check if he had a fever that way. I wrapped my arms around him. I figured maybe he was cold, it was December, and he was a short coated dog. I wrapped a blanket around him and went to call the vet.
They were about to close and made me an appointment for the next morning. They gave me the number for the emergency vet in case anything got worse, but told me it sounded like he’d be OK until tomorrow.
I left him there and ran out to get him a hamburger from McDonalds – his favorite. He barely licked it when I gave it to him.
I called Jason. Over and over I called. He never answered. He never called me back.
I curled up in bed with Tater, laying him at his thick pillow at the bottom of the bed, moving down so my head was down by him. At about 2 AM, he threw up on the pillow. I scooted him into bed with me, wrapping my arms around him. An hour later he threw up in my bed. He stood up and went to his water dish, lapping up water, only to throw it up seconds later. At four, I called the emergency vet. We were there by four thirty, and at five we had gotten the answer: Parvo.
I could have attempted to keep him alive. The doctor said parvo wasn’t what actually killed the dog, the dehydration caused by the parvo does. He said it was like AIDs in the sense that AIDs rarely killed you, but complications or illnesses from it did. But the doctor said at that point, it was pretty much pointless to try. He said it would be expensive, and had such a slim chance of working.
At five, Tater was gone.
I called into work and called off for the day. Then I drove. I wasn’t sure where I was going and just drove mindlessly. I ended up down by the river, and a spot Tater and I often walked. I leaned my forehead on the steering wheel and sobbed until my stomach ached and my eyes ran dry. I was suddenly exhausted, so I turned the car back on and headed home. I parked my car and tried to call Jason again. Again, no answer. I left a voicemail for him to call me, as soon as he possibly could, and hung up.
I unlocked the door and turned the knob. I braced myself for a dog attack, before it hit me. Tater was gone. There would be no more dog hugs when I got home. There would be no more bolting out the door and playing catch me if you can. I looked around and realized, I would never be coming home to anymore accidents, no more chewed shoes. I’d no longer have to vacuum constantly to keep the dog hair at bay, and there’d be no more danger of stepping in puddles if I had forgotten to let him out.
I sunk to the floor, put my head in my hands, and started to sob all over again. I don’t know if I’m pathetic or lucky for saying this. But nobody has ever loved me the way that that dog did. And I highly doubt that anyone ever will. Nobody has ever wanted me around as much, needed me that much, or given me as much. I’ve fallen in love with a few guys, and had my heart broken a few times. But nobody has ever broken my heart as badly as when Tater died. And nobody was ever more worth a broken heart.
Jason finally called back a few hours later. I was in my bed, trying to figure out how to sleep alone. I was tired, drained, and suddenly, very, VERY angry.
“Where were you?”I snapped as I flipped open my cell phone.
“My Dad and I got into it, he kicked me out and I didn’t have time to grab my phone. He just left for work, my Mom let me in to get my stuff.” Jason explained. “What’s going on? You called me like, a hundred times.”
“I needed you.” I said, quietly. “And you weren’t there.”
“I’m sorry El. I just can’t always be there for you.” He said, a little exasperated.
“But I needed you.” I said, louder. “I just had one of the worst nights in my life and you were where? Playing video games at Nicks? On Drew’s sofa watching movies? And you couldn’t even THINK to call me? Not even to check in?”
“I told you I didn’t have my…”
“Your phone.” I cut him off. “Like Drew and Nick don’t have a phone. Like there’s not a million and one pay phones in Indiana.”
“What happened? Another fight with Jarren? Sorry I missed out on another why Jarren sucks rant.” He said, sarcastically.
Jarren was my roommate. We were good friends for the most part, but sometimes she was impossible to live with.
“No, you ass. Taters dead.”
“What?” Jason exclaimed. “What happened?”
“He was sick, and they couldn’t help him. They said it was best if I put him down. I killed my best friend Jay.” I said. I started crying all over again.
It didn’t help that two months prior, my Mom came home and found our ornery orange cat, Bubba, dead. I still hadn’t gotten used to going to her house and not seeing him, and now I had my own place to readjust too.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.
“Sorry for what Jas? That Tater’s dead or that once again you were no where to be found when I needed you?”
“You act like this happens daily.” He retorted.
“It DOES happen daily. Maybe not the me needing you part, but at least three days out of the week you’re gone and I have no idea how to get a hold of you. What if something happens again? What if something happens to you or to me?”
“You’re overreacting El.”
“No, I’m not. You just don’t think about anyone but yourself anymore.”
“That’s not true…” I heard him start, but I already hung up. I heard my phone ring a couple of times before I put it on silent. I left the room, drank some Nyquil, and half an hour later I was passed out.
I woke up to about twenty missed calls from Jason, and an empty hollow feeling. I stretched, went into the kitchen, and started to pour food for Tater. I was halfway to his bowl with the cup of kibble before I realized. He wasn’t here to eat it anymore.
I shook it off, not feeling like I was able to cry anymore, and went into a whirlwind of cleaning. His bowls went into the trash, along with his leash, and his toys. The food I bagged (it had been in it’s own container) and set it by the door to take to a friend. I bleached everything, steam cleaned the rug, washed my sheets, threw out his doggy bed. When I was done the only trace left of him was his collar, and a doggy head sized hole in the blinds from where he used to keep watch for me. The apartment felt so empty, so silent, and my roommate wasn’t due back for another two days. Even her cats realized something was up and had holed up in her room.
I booted up my laptop and checked my email. I had an email from Jason, a couple of forwards, a few emails from organizations that I volunteered for, and one from someone I didn’t recognize. I thought it was spam, but for some reason I decided to open it.
To: Ella McLean McElla21@yahoo.com
From: Nancy Greene NGreene@sts.org
Re: Your Donation
Ella-
Your friend Jason told me about your loss, and let me start out by saying I’m so sorry. But, I wanted you to know that what you did was the best thing for Tater. It was also the best thing for the five shelter dogs we were able to pull out of high kill shelters because of your donation in Tater’s name. Thank you, so much, and know that while Tater is gone, five more dogs (Kinko, a Husky/Lab mix, Mookie, a boxer/lab mix, Dozer, a dalmation mix, and Toostie and Loki, two small puppies) will be able to live because of him.
Thank you again, and if you’re ever looking for another dog, or for a foster/volunteer position, please think of stop the suffering.
-Nancy

I paused, re-reading it over and over. I hadn’t made a donation. I was officially broke from last nights ordeal… But Jason?

To: Ella
From: Jason BlancoBlanc@hotmail.com
Sub: Me being an idiot

Ella-
You have always been there for me, and it’s true I haven’t been around much. I know how much Tater meant to you, and I feel like such a jerk for not being there when you had to put him down. Toni told me about a shelter who pulls dogs out of high kill shelters and fixes them up to be adopted. So I put in some money, with a couple of other guys, and Toni gave it to them this morning. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.
-Jay

I closed down my computer then, and left. I drove aimlessly around the neighborhood again, trying to clear my head. I was so mad, and sad, and touched. I felt like there was a war of emotions going on in my stomach and my head. It got later and later, and I started to drive further in further. I was going in loops, getting off at one highway exit and stopping to drive around neighborhoods that I didn’t know, only to get back on later and drive to the next exit. I stopped for gas a few times, and for food that I just picked at. Eventually it was dark and I finally knew where I was headed.
I parked around the corner, snuck in his backyard and knocked on his window, hoping that he was here, and hoping that none of his neighbors would call the police on what they thought was a prowler or peeping Tom. After a few minutes, he opened up the window, and I slid inside. I was face to face with him.
“What are you doing here?” He whispered. His TV was on low, the room cast in that eerie and somewhat lonely glow.
“I can’t sleep without him. It sounds stupid Jay but I’ve never missed someone so much.” And I started to cry all over again.
He didn’t say a word, just led me to his bed. He gently pulled off my clothes, and handed me his oversized sweatpants and a tee shirt. Then, he pushed me on the bed, again, gently, and wrapped his arms around me.
I laid my head on his chest, and listening to his heartbeat, fell into a deep sleep. Jason, even when being an ass, always knew how to fix things. But he could never mend the crack on my heart that occurred when Tater died. He did, however, ease the pain.
I wasn’t allowed to foster any of the dogs that were saved in Tater’s name. Parvo is a very dangerous disease, and it can live up to a really long time. However, year after year, Jason never failed to donate money in Tater’s name to rescue a few more dogs, and when I left that apartment I was able to keep and train a few and find them new homes. It’s something I still do today.