I know exactly how he feels. I had my first adult dog and I’m ashamed to admit this: I owned a company in NyC. It was a pretty large small biz 50 employees. I would get so annoyed when ppl would call off or cry when their pets died. They didn’t know I would feel this way & I always gave them time off bc I did value every employee but I’d internally be annoyed. I’m also a terrorist attack survivor when I was 21. Bc I survived- albeit, massive injuries and 30 surgeries and counting, I didn’t believe I had a right to mourn or be upset. When my company went global I was worried and sitting in my conference room looking out at my employees thinking, I better make it work bc I have their LIVES in my hand. That one thought triggered a panic attack. Each day after, it got worse. It got to a point where I wasn’t sleeping, not leaving my home, and began seeing things like I was schizo. I believed I was so I tried to take my life. My bro rushed me to the hospital and I was hospitalized & they gave me anti anxiety meds. Amazing bc it was one med that helped. I describe it as my head is a library & a tornado was spinning the books in the middle. That pill reorganized my books. When I got released, my friends and family sat me down and presented my yorkie baby: Pita. They read dogs help. I was angry. I even made a contract saying they’d have to take care of her if I didn’t want her after 3 weeks. Well, 5 days later, I couldn’t wait to get home and that’s when I realized I wanted her. In time, she opened my eyes to things I needed to do: get better and take time off. After the attack & my release from the hospital, I dove into work and school. It’s like I subconsciously kept myself busy. I ended up selling my biz to my partners and left & adopted more dogs. During Covid, she got sick and it was terrible. No place was open. I drove 9 hours to a vet & when we handed her off- she died. I was inconsolable. On the drive I was begging the universe to give me more brain surgeries for her life. I didn’t realize how deep in mourning I had been until the same rescue contacted my hubs and said a hoarder died with a shit ton of inbred yorkies. They had a 3week boy and needed someone to foster him. I took him right away and told them I’m keeping him. It was then, I understood how bad I was. How much she meant and how deep in pain I was in. I neglected everyone and anyone. My baby Bear is now 3.5. He’s my baby boy. I cry thinking abt my little time with him but at least I’m not spending his first 2 years in an office working 70 hours a week
2:18 Jax, you're too funny. That was perfectly timed👌
It's nice when there's a happy ending 🙂👍
I know exactly how he feels. I had my first adult dog and I’m ashamed to admit this: I owned a company in NyC. It was a pretty large small biz 50 employees. I would get so annoyed when ppl would call off or cry when their pets died. They didn’t know I would feel this way & I always gave them time off bc I did value every employee but I’d internally be annoyed.
I’m also a terrorist attack survivor when I was 21. Bc I survived- albeit, massive injuries and 30 surgeries and counting, I didn’t believe I had a right to mourn or be upset. When my company went global I was worried and sitting in my conference room looking out at my employees thinking, I better make it work bc I have their LIVES in my hand. That one thought triggered a panic attack. Each day after, it got worse. It got to a point where I wasn’t sleeping, not leaving my home, and began seeing things like I was schizo. I believed I was so I tried to take my life. My bro rushed me to the hospital and I was hospitalized & they gave me anti anxiety meds. Amazing bc it was one med that helped. I describe it as my head is a library & a tornado was spinning the books in the middle. That pill reorganized my books.
When I got released, my friends and family sat me down and presented my yorkie baby: Pita. They read dogs help. I was angry. I even made a contract saying they’d have to take care of her if I didn’t want her after 3 weeks.
Well, 5 days later, I couldn’t wait to get home and that’s when I realized I wanted her. In time, she opened my eyes to things I needed to do: get better and take time off. After the attack & my release from the hospital, I dove into work and school. It’s like I subconsciously kept myself busy.
I ended up selling my biz to my partners and left & adopted more dogs.
During Covid, she got sick and it was terrible. No place was open. I drove 9 hours to a vet & when we handed her off- she died.
I was inconsolable. On the drive I was begging the universe to give me more brain surgeries for her life.
I didn’t realize how deep in mourning I had been until the same rescue contacted my hubs and said a hoarder died with a shit ton of inbred yorkies. They had a 3week boy and needed someone to foster him. I took him right away and told them I’m keeping him. It was then, I understood how bad I was. How much she meant and how deep in pain I was in. I neglected everyone and anyone.
My baby Bear is now 3.5. He’s my baby boy. I cry thinking abt my little time with him but at least I’m not spending his first 2 years in an office working 70 hours a week
Nice, it's a match!😁
Is this scripted?
I think some are scripted
Maybe it’s 50-50
Oof