The world's gone f*cking mad

Reading week. A week rumoured to have its origins as the answer to the high number of suicides amongst students in mid-February. A time to relax, kick back, ski, snowboard, sleep and get a bit of personal time.

Yeah right.

Let's face it. There is some truth to wanting to end one's life in the middle of February. It's dark, Christmas is over and it's starting to get brown and slushy out there. The school year has lost its charm and any notions you had of losing that Christmas-pudding weight is out the door. And like your adipose tissue, a dark mood sets in and buggered if its not impossible to get rid of.

I was enjoying a merry little reading week and surfing the net when suddenly, i got a MSN message from my Uncle Jason (of marrying-someone-less-than-half-his-age-plus-seven fame).
He was asking about his dog Tango and about what he should do cus Tango started peeing out blood. I told him to take Tango to the vets right away. He seemed reluctant and I asked a bit more and it turns out Tango's been sick for a while and he's been going downhill.

Essentially, my uncle was trying to justify it to himself that maybe it was time to put his poor dog out of its misery. I listened to him and sort of agreed. Tango was super old, was peeing out blood every hour for the last week and had cancer all over his body.

The other thing was that Tango and my dog, Jaws, both live at my grandparents house. Since my uncle got married last summer, he'd moved out with his new wife to an apartment where they don't allow pets. The dogs had stayed with my grandmother and she took care of them. The problem was that my grandpa's health has declined as of late my grandma basically spends her time nursing him 24-7 and has hardly any time for the dogs.

That and she's 83 and osteoporitic. It was hardly fair to make a little old lady care for her dying husband and a big, old dog too.

Tango's food intake had also gone down and yes, maybe euthanasia was the answer.

I was sad. Tango was a great dog and had this habit of forcing his way into your affections whether you liked it or not. He's like a big dog that thinks he's a small dog and always tries to sit on your lap and nudges your hand so you pet him.

Still, I told myself to be professional and not get all teary eyed about it. I was going to have to put down a lot of animals in the future and I'd already put some down as it was. I needed to be level-headed and calm.

"Have you considered putting Tango down? It's a perfectly justifiable option."

My uncle didn't reply for a while and then said that he was thinking about it. I told him it was OK to do so and he thanked me and signed off. I felt bad but calmed myself down.

I was professional. This was how I had to be in the future. For once, I felt like maybe I'd make an OK vet afterall. I went to bed feeling sad but confident I'd made the right decision.

The next day, I got a phone call from my uncle saying he'd booked an appointment for Tango to be euthanised at 3:45pm on Wednesday afternoon.

A few minutes later, Karen came upstairs to chat with me. "I have some bad news for you."

"About Tango?"

"Yeah, and Jaws."

Any notions I had of being level-headed and calm flew out the window.

"Jaws? MY Jaws? What about Jaws? Jaws is fine! He's FINE!" I shouted at her.

"Well, he's getting old now and they weren't going to tell you, but mom and dad and your uncle all decided that when they take Tango in on Wednesday, they're going to take Jaws in too."

I felt my heart stop and for a full minute, I don't think I breathed.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that again?"

"I said mom and dad told me not to tell you but they're going to put down Jaws on Wednesday. I thought you should know cus I don't think it's fair."

I looked at my sister in a whole new light. She'd spent most of the last ten years of her life yammering on about how she hates Jaws and how she's allergic to him and that we should get rid of him. And now, when it really counted, she was suddenly on his side. I was grateful and yet, it's hard not to begrudge the messenger.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH HIM!" I wanted to shout.

Instead, I calmly looked at her and collected myself and said, "Thanks for telling me." She went downstairs to her room, leaving me in the kitchen staring at my computer screen and slowly detaching myself from reality.

I felt numb inside.

Jaws has been with me since I was 9 years old. I've known him longer than I've known most of the people in my life and for 4 years in Edmonton, he was my roomate and confidante. It had been hard enough letting him go to my grandma's house. This was too much.

I waited up until my parents came home that night and confronted them. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? Why weren't you going to tell us? I'm not even mad about you wanting to kill Jwas so much as you wanting to kill Jaws without allowing me a say in it! Not even giving me a chance to say goodbye!"

My mother wouldn't make eye contact and pottered around the kitchen absently wiping counters that needed no wiping. "Well, I didn't know anything about it. It was your father's decision."

She'd passed the blame to my father.

"Dad, why didn't you want to tell me?"

"Well, I-I-I"

He had nothing to say.

"Call your uncle. He's the one bringing the dogs in."

He passed the responsibility onto my uncle.

I grabbed the phone and dialed my uncle's number. Somebody had to answer to this.

Fifteen minutes later, I had it out of my system. "THERE'S NO REASON TO KILL JAWS! He's not sick right?"
"Well, no, but he's old."
"THIRTEEN IS NOT OLD FOR A SMALL DOG!"
"Well, I- talk to your grandma. She's the one taking care of him. She'll make the decision."

So like that, he'd turfed the responsibility to my grandmother.

My parents were still around and started making up excuses. "Well, we heard Jaws pees every hour and keeps your grandma up. We heard that he's been peeing on their rug and that he's getting old and he's sick and he sleeps too much now. Besides, he's always having strokes."

"He's only had two. What do you mean by ALWAYS?"

They pressured me some more and started on with the guilt about how my grandma had to take care of my grandpa and the dogs and how that wasn't fair. By the end, I felt that they were right. Maybe it was time to let Jaws go too.

It was late and I tried to go to sleep with no success. It was Monday night and if I didn't do something soon, Jaws would only have 36 hours to live. The next morning, I called my grandma first thing and went over to their house.

Tango greeted me at the door, seemingly unaware of his impending fate. He wagged his tail fiercely and licked my hand enthusiastically. He looked up at me like I was his favorite person in the world. I felt like utter shite. Afterall, I'd been the one responsible for telling my uncle it was OK to kill this poor innocent creature.

"Maybe I made the wrong choice. He seems happy enough! Look! he's so active!"

But even as I thought it and petted him, I could feel how thin he was under his fur and see the blood-stained newspapers on the floor in his room.

My grandmother was overjoyed to see me. She doesn't get out much now that my grandpa is sick. My grandpa sat in the dingey living room watching the weather network on mute with the radio beside him blaring some Cantonese radio station. He was asleep but my grandma woke him up to say hi to me. He was grey from hypoxia and he was attached to an oxygen tank giving him the air which he heaved and wheezed at greedily with each laboured breath. I went over to shout into his deaf ears and noticed his legs were merely skin and bones under his pajamas.

I looked around the room. I had forgotten how depressing my grandparent's house could be. When I had visited the summer previously, I had burst into tears as soon as I left the house and got into my car. There was something about that place that depressed the hell out of me. The house itself was ancient and in my mind, it was the place where my family tended to put things when they were waiting for them to die.

Waking me out of my reverie, Tango came in and put his paw out to me to shake. I grabbed it and he looked at me with his brown eyes as if to say "don't let them kill me tomorrow."

I could see Jaws trotting into the room and he looked at me for a moment and stood there. He seemed confused. After his first stroke, he'd forgotten me and couldn't remember who I was. Partly the reason I was so upset last summer after I visited my grandma's was that I realised Jaws coudln't recognise me anymore.

It was heartbreaking to have my dog treat me as he would any stranger that came into the house. I could see the confusion on his face as I gave him all his old commands and he stood there grudgingly obeying me as if to say, "who are you that you know all my commands and exactly how to say them? I don't know you but you seem to know me."

Jaws stood there looking at me now and I howled at him like I always used to whenever I came home from school.

He started howling at me then stopped mid-howl, totally confused. He started barking at me like crazy all of a sudden as if I were a total stranger who had suddenly walked into his house unannounced.

I tried to calm him down again and for a second, it seemed like he recognised me as he wagged his tail and ran around excitedly. He ran out of the room excitedly and came back in and was about to run out again as is his favorite thing to do when he caught a glimpse of me again and stopped. And he just turned around, didn't recognise me and walked out of the room, deaf to my calls.

My grandmother told me to sit down and gave me some apple juice.

She began talking to me about her life back when she first married my grandfather and about how they had to run from first, the Japanese, and then, the Communists. She described to me how she'd had to flee on a boat to China with my all my little uncles and aunts and how, on the way, they'd lost their visas and passports and when they got to the mainland, my grandpa got slapped in the face by a border guard for not having the proper forms.

She told me many more things but it's too depressing to recount.

I got up and told her I was there to talk about Jaws and to see how my grandpa was. My grandpa, meanwhile, woke up from another nap on the couch and stared confusedly at the apple juice I had drank on the table.

"GET WEE-LEE AN APPLE JUICE!" he shouted at my grandma.

"I just did! That was hers!"

"WHAT?!"

"I SAID I JUST DID!"

"WHAT?!"

"I HAVE ONE GRANDPA! THANKS."

I took up the apple juice and took a sip and he seemed content and fell back asleep. My grandma woke him up for a bit and led him into their room where he could sleep more comfortably. I took the chance to go see what Jaws and Tango were up to.

Jaws was curled up on his cushion chewing a bone. I walked up to him and he growled at me. Ah, same old Jaws. Ever-protective of his food.

Tango was laying on the ground and bounded up to me as soon as I walked in the room. He sniffed my pockets to make sure there was no food and then sat there and put a paw up on my tummy as if entreating me to do something for him.

He looked up at me, put his paw down and then gave me his other one. He rested his head up against my hips and looked up at me again. In the back, I could hear my grandpa coughing and the buzz of his oxygen machine.

I coudln't help it. I started bawling.

My grandma walked into the room.
"You know *sniffle sniffle* that they're putting Tango down tomorrow right?" I wimpered at her between sobs.

My grandma seemed like she knew and didn't say anything. She went to the middle of the room and took up a brush and started combing out Tango's hair.

"Your uncle was at work all day even when he lived here so I've always been the one to take care of Tango. I comb him out every day and I can tell he likes it. Jaws never lets me comb him out. That water and food you see over there?" she pointed to the dog bowls, "I give him those every day."

She paused a bit and kept combing out Tango. "He hasnt been eating much lately." she finally said.

I noticed the bowls were both full. It was as if Tango understood the implications of this and he suddenly went over to the food bowl and took a mouthful and chewed it and then walked back to my grandma and sat down obediently. He looked from my grandma to me and seemed like he was begging for his life.

I started bawling more. "I know *sniffle sniffle* I shouldn't be like this. They're just *sniffle sniffle sob* dogs. I'm supposed to be a *sob* vet." I managed to squeeze out.

"Oh, but they have personalities." she said.

She went on to describe their personalities.

"Did you know they want to put down Jaws too tomorrow?" I asked her finally.

She was silent again. "I don't know. It's just that your other uncles all want the dogs to be put down. They say that the dogs are a burden for me. I have to stay up all night for them. Jaws is getting old and he's started peeing on the rug. Maybe you should let him go before you get even more attached. He's not suffering right now but he will. You should let him go before he does start to suffer. It's just now that Tango's sick and he has to go pee every hour and I can't stay up all night to let him out anymore. What with your grandpa and all . . ."

She seemed to feel guilty and I told her it wasnt her job. Maybe it was time to let Tango go. "But what about Jaws?"

" I just think he'll be lonely when Tango goes. It'll be easier if we just have to go through this once," she said.

I sat there looking at Jaws. His cataracts had gotten worse since I last saw him and his milky eyes looked back at me. I pet him on the head and he didn't really respond to me at all.

"Can I take him home for today? Just for one last day?"

"Are you sure you want to? You wont have the heart to let him go if you do. Your older sister is allergic to him. What will your parents say?"

I called my mom up and asked. "Can I take Jaws home tonight? And tomorrow I'll . . . take him to be," my voice cracked, "euthanized?"

"What? I couldn't understand you just now."

"I said tomorrow, I'll take Jaws to be," I gathered all my strength, "put down."

My mom didn't say anything for a while. I thought for sure she'd say no seeing as Karen is allergic to Jaws.

"Alright. But are you sure you want to bring all his food and bed and all that back too? That's a lot of stuff."

"Well, I'm not bringing that stuff back."

"Why not?"

"Cus he'll be dead by tomorrow afternoon."

I got off the phone and pat Jaws on the head. He was looking at the wall and ignoring me.

Suddenly, my cell phone rang. It was Joanne. I'd sent her an e-mail the night before telling her what was happening.

"WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW?"

"I'm at grandpa and grandma's."

"HOW'S JAWS? YOU CAN'T LET THEM KILL JAWS. AND WHY ARE THEY KILLING TANGO! TANGO IS FINE! DON'T LET THEM KILL TANGO!" she screamed at me.

"Well, Jaws is getting old. Tango is really sick right now and he's peeing out blood. He's already on some pretty heavy durgs. I checked. He's a burden for your grandmother and grandpa's sick too."

"TELL THEM I'LL GIVE THEM MONEY! I'LL GIVE THEM 100 DOLLARS A MONTH TO TAKE CARE OF HIM!"

"Jo, I really don't think money is the issue here. I-"

"TELL THEM! TELL THEM I'LL GIVE THEM THE MONEY!" she screamed.

"Look what are you trying to say about our grandparents here? It's not about the money."

"IT SO IS! IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT THE MONEY!"

"Jo, Tango is really old for a big dog and Jaws is going to die in about 3 years max anyways. I really think it's better to let him go now before-"

"I'M GOING TO DIE EVENTUALLY! ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME TOMORROW?"

"No, that's not what i'm saying. He's only got 1 or 2 ye-"

"ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME TOMORROW?!!! ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME TOMORROW?!"

She was in a frenzy. She wouldn't stop screaming it over and over and even my grandmother sitting across from me could hear her. Feeling rather emotionally torn, I decided the last thing I needed was to go deaf listening to her screaming. I hung up.

I sat there and thought about it for a bit. I'd already tried looking for a "pets allowed" apartment suite that morning but to no avail. Most allowed cats, not dogs. I'd called up one place that maybe allowed dogs and they informed me they had no vacancies even in the following year. Besides, what was I to do if I found a place that allowed me to have dogs? I still had 3 months left of my apartment lease contract and I was going to go to India for four months this summer.

I was pondering this and my grandma was asking what was going on when my cell rang again. I answered it.

"ARE YOU GOING TO F*CKING KILL ME TOMORROW? ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME TOMORROW?! ANSWER ME? ARE YOU GOING TO-"

"Joanne, just calm down. I'm trying to figure something out."

"ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME TOMORROW? ARE YOU GOING-"

I hung up again.

The earliest I could get an apartment would be September. Maybe I could convince my grandmother to keep Jaws and Tango until then.
I turned to my grandmother. "Can you keep Jaws and Tango till September? That's the earliest I can take them. I am going to be away until then so it's just 6 months more."

"Well, Tango is waking me up at night cus he has to pee every hour. I want to but your uncle keeps yelling at me to get rid of the dogs. . . maybe if it was just the smaller dog I can handle it. Your grandpa can't even pee by himself anymore. I'm not sure if he'll last through the year and I, I just don't know."

She looked very sad.

"Well what about just Jaws? I can get an apartment in Saskatoon next year that will let me keep him. I'll look harder. It's just 6 months."

My cell rang again.

"ARE YOU GOING TO-"

I cut her off mid-rant and tried to tell her I was figuring something out. She didn't hear me and kept screaming over and over and over. I finally screamed back "I'M TRYING TO FIGURE SOMETHING OUT TO HELP JAWS RIGHT NOW. CALM DOWN. I JUST NEED TO TALK TO GRANDMA FOR A BIT."

"KILL ME TOMORROW? ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME TOMORROW? I'M GOING TO DIE SOMEDAY! ARE YOU GOING TO-?"

I hung up again and waited for my grandma to answer. She seemed confused by the constant cell phone ringing but she answered finally.

"Well, I don't mind taking care of Jaws until then, but I think you should ask your other uncle about Jaws."

"Jason?"

"No, Ed. He's the one that thinks I shouldn't be caring for the dogs anymore."

Ah yes. My famous uncle Ed. He's 55, and he's still living at home with his parents. He lives in my grandparent's basement but is never home as he has a gambling addiction and spends his days yelling at his parents or yelling at people in the casino. Joanne called back and screamed at me, "PROMISE ME YOU WON'T LET THEM KILL JAWS! PROMISE ME!"

I got off the phone with her finally and she said she wouldn't call back.
I looked at my grandma and asked if Uncle Ed was int he basement right now.

"He'll be home at 11pm tonight. You call him then. I dont mind keeping the small dog." said my grandma.

I eventually left after two and half hours of emotional torture. Jaws let me pet him finally and Tango suddenly just seemed to understand his fate and lay on the ground as if in despair. I called him and he barely responded. There was nothing I could do for him. I entertained the notion of sneaking him away in my car and taking him to Saskatoon with me, but I realised it was an impossibility. I left the house feeling like utter and complete shite.

I got home and waited around trying to pretend everything was OK until 11pm. I called my grandparent's house at 11:01pm sharp. My Uncle Ed got on the phone.
"Um, hi, this is your niece Vivian. Is there anyway you can keep Jaws until September?"
Depending on whether he'd won or lost at the casino, my dog's fate rested.
"The small dog? Oh, no problem. I dont mind him. It's just the big dog. He keeps peeing blood and having to pee all hours of the night."
"So you don't mind the small dog then?"
"Oh no, no I don't."

I assumed it had been a lucky day.

I went to bed happier and tried to look up more apartments. No luck. But I felt something owuld come up next month maybe. I realised I had to move in April or not until the end of August as I'd be gone for four months inbetween. I still had to find somewhere to store my stuff until August if I couldnt find a place till then. My lease was up in June. I worried about it and then let myself forget about it. At least my dog would be alive till then.

The next day was Wednesday. I woke up with only one thought on my mind: that Tango would be dying today. I walked like a zombie through the day and tried my hardest not to feel guilty.

At 5pm, my mom couldn't take it anymore and called my Uncle Jason to see how he was doing.

My uncle unformed my mom that Tango was indeed dead.

He'd gone to my grandma's house around 3pm to give Tango a last walk around the neighborhood but, he said, it was like Tango could sense he was going to die because for the first time ever, Tango ran off and wouldn't come back when they called him.

Eventually, after a bit, Tango came back and hopped into my uncle's car. They took Jaws with them to keep Tango company.

An hour later, they returned from the vets with only Jaws. Jaws ran into my grandparent's house and apparently spent the next hour looking everywhere for Tango.

My mom had heard enough and told my uncle not to be too sad and to take it easy and hung up. My mom, dad and Karen and I all sat there staring at our dinner. None of us felt entirely hungry anymore.



I had yet to tell my parents about my rent situation and Jaws so I told them. They disagreed with me that I should take Jaws and have to find a new place. "You'll be paying extra rent for nothing! HE'S JUST A DOG! How much longer is he going to live anyways? A year? Two years? HE DOESN'T EVEN REMEMBER YOU ANYMORE!"

"I know, it's just, he's Jaws. He's like family. I owe it to him."

"He's happy now! May as well end it while he's still happy. You'll never be home in Saskatoon to take care of him. He won't have another dog to keep him company. What are you going to do with him when you get back to town for Christmas? Karen's allergic to him! you cant keep him in the house! I thought you wanted to go to Uganda and do an externship in your fourth year! WHAT ABOUT THAT?!"

"I know. I know."

But I didn't know. All I could keep thinking was Joanne's voice in my head going "PROMISE ME YOU WON'T LET THEM KILL JAWS. PROMISE ME!"

I felt sick. After a few moments silence, we did what my family is best at. We pushed it deep down into the pit of our stomachs and repressed it. Repressed and ignored it.

The rest of my night, I spent holed up in my room thinking.

I eventually fell asleep.

This morning, no one said anything to me. Just like I'd thought, we'd all repressed it and pretended it didn't exist.

Which brings me to now. It's Thursday night and I can't sleep. My reading week is almost over and to be honest, I'm more stressed than I was when I was in school. I was standing alone in my bathroom just now washing my face and I suddenly heard barking. I ran downstairs to Karen who was the only other one home and was like "did you uh, bark? I hear barking just now."

"Maybe it was Tango."

"It sounded like Jaws."

"You're insane."

I dunno. I swear I heard two barks. Maybe I am going insane. All I know is that inside right now, I feel this horrible weight. It's like all those feelings and things I've repressed all week are starting to weigh me down and it's all I can do get up and get on with my life. Reading week is supposed to be uplifting. A time to relax, destress and chill. This last week has been anything but that. And soon, I'll be back to Saskatoon, all alone in my crap-ass apartment, cramming for tests, back in the stress and demands of school again. Plus I'll be on the hunt for a new place that allows me to keep a dog.

Sigh.

It's nearly 2am now so I think I'll sign off.

Take care everyone and I hope your weeks have been going better than mine. Again, I'm here till Sunday so if you want to hang out, please dont hesitate to call. I need something to distract me from all this.