So fine, make me an emotional basket-case

DSCN0681I am something of a sentimental sod; always have been. I get moved easily and I am happy I do since emotional outpourings can be cathartic and healthy. Expose me to a sad movie and I rapidly become a basket-case.

Now, you might think, by what I wrote that I am driven to copious bouts of lachrymation but that was heretofore not so. I would feel emotions but not tear up. I think I hadn’t really cried (except for a brief bout after the demise of my 2nd marriage and the crying actually embarrassed me) since I became an adult. I was actually proud of my emotional stoicism.

I mean, I had all the emotions in place, I simply didn’t express them tearfully. I felt the pain, but didn’t show it or have it manifest in a physical way. I was even like that when I was a child. I didn’t cry. Especially when I was punished. I wasn’t about to give anyone that satisfaction. Even when I got the strap at school – a vicious practice carried out in those beastly days of yore – I did not cry. I wasn’t going to give the bastards abusing me that satisfaction.

But my crying resolve seems to have changed when Max died. And, frankly, I find the change alien and disconcerting. Nowadays and virtually without warning, with the slightest stimulus my eyes will water and my chin will quiver. I mist up unexpectedly. Pieces of music are killers. Tiny children fill me with lachrymosity. A crying child finishes me off.

I cannot, of course, abide tales of animal abuse and I cannot even watch little Facebook snippets of hunting and that sort of nastiness.

But mainly, it’s all about Max. I had not anticipation that his demise would shatter me the way it has. He is still here and I sense his presence – always. This is his home. His home wasn’t the veterinary clinic where the final deed was carried out on that black and bleak day. His home remained here. He did not, with no small pain, climb into the car on that black day. He stayed here with us.

I will defy anybody to suggest otherwise.

Pet lovers will get this. If you don’t then you haven’t yet been there.

There, now I have that off my chest.

 

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13 responses to “So fine, make me an emotional basket-case

  1. Sending you hugs dear! I can relate about not crying, not much anyway. I miss my dog terribly but haven’t allowed myself a good cry for him since he passed away. Perhaps I should.

  2. No nee to explain or apologise. Animals, especially pets, are precious. They make nicer people than we deserve to be.

  3. No explanations needed, Ian. I weep as much or more for lost animals than I do for my dearly held humans.

  4. roselefebvre24@comcast.net

    I know the feeling oh too well. I think it makes up more humane humans. My dad was always the “men do not cry” sort and I never saw him cry until his dog died, a weiner dog name Snuffles (named after the Quick Draw McGraw cartoons). Now since he passed the age of 70 he is easy to tear up at movies, songs, tv shows…

  5. I’m not big at showing my emotions either (don’t give them the satisfaction, as you say). But I totally get it. And no explanations needed. Much love to you.

  6. Aaah … see, I knew you had a softie side underneath that hilariously witty, sometimes acerbic exterior. Max WILL always be with you. There’s nothing that compares with the connection between man (or woman) and a good dog. Dylan sends you doggie love and hugs from Seattle. He’s lying at my feet drooling because he can smell his organic chicken breast cooking, hah!

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