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Dearest friends,
You are the most amazing people on this planet. I cannot believe your endless love and compassion. I cannot tell you what you all mean to me. I am crying as I write this. I simply am overwhelmed at your total beauty and astounding capacity for goodness and light and all this is good and true in this world. I am just over come with emotion, and love for you. And you all deserve to know what happened. So I will tell you.
It all started when I decided to try my hand at a new recipe. I keep the girls in an enclosed area usually, when I cannot keep a watchful eye on them. The reasons are twofold. Firstly, Cassie is incontinent mostly, but she does use the potty pads pretty well. And they are right there in the room with them. She also feels safer in a smaller enclosed area where she cannot get lost. She also doesn't walk well- but the floor in their room is ribbed and not so slidey and they can get around much easier. I have a big house. One level, but big.
I kept Muffin with Cassie too so they could be together, and also because Muffin also had accidents, and they played together and ate together and slept together when I could not be with them.
But more importantly, Muffin was an explorer, she was always on the move and getting into mischief and I would often not be able to find her and my heart would be in my mouth. I worried that she was stuck somewhere and she never barked to let me know where she was. So I kept them in an enclosed space when I could not monitor them. The house is so large, compared to their size, that she would often disappear sometimes for a long time.
With that said, Muffin was trying very hard to be the best girl in the world. Her potty training improved so much I was amazed. But also, the deciding factor, was that she shadowed me every where I went and wanted to be with me every moment. So I felt safer in keeping her in the kitchen with a potty pad and her bed while she watched me cook. She did so well, I was so proud of her, she never strayed into the other rooms not even once.
I was focused on cooking my new recipe. That horrible recipe that I will never cook again. Muffin was there, but so was my dad. He was sitting by the table, and although I saw him pick her up, I did not say anything. They loved one another a lot. I never told him he couldn't hold her. Even after I knew he had had a stroke in the past year, and had a recent TIA a couple of weeks ago. And even if i did tell him, his memory was so poor, that he would forget it the next time anyway.
But hey, Muffin was the strong one, the healthy one, the very bright one with shining black fiercely intelligent eyes-burning like coal on fire. Muffin was my light and my life. Muffin could take it. Cassie was the fragile one, the protected one, the one in the stroller in the kitchen by my side every minute.
But Muffin, my sacraficial lamb, my baby, my moon and my stars, he picked her up to move to a more comfortable place to sit in the family room right next to the kitchen. I didn't stop him, I didn't say don't carry her or pick her up, I was busy cooking you see. So important. So very important.
And then I heard it, a crack, a splat, a thump, and I heard my father say, "she's alright!"-and I got a pain in my heart suddenly, and I flew like the wind, and I saw her on the floor, limp, tongue out, struggling to breathe, and I started to scream, NO NO NO NO NO-Oh my God NO NO NO. Not MUFFIN!!! I picked her up in my arms, her little body limp, her neck hanging and lying limp as I supported it. I ran to the car, and left driving 100 miles an hour. My dad was in the house, and we could not close the garage door, so I told him he would have to stay home because I couldn't leave the house open, and not to touch Cassie, just leave her in the stroller. I raced. I got there in 7 minutes. They put her in O2, they gave her brain swelling med, her heart stopped and they revived her, but her poor little body was shutting down. Now they were breathing for her, she could not breath on her own, they said if she survived, which was very unlikely, she would be brain damaged. They convinced me that I must let her go. I let her go. And now in my sleep, in my dreams, I hear that "SPLAT" "THUMP", and I am inconsolable. If I had kept her in her room, if I had not been so focused on cooking, if I had monitored my dad more closely, she would still be alive. In essence, I failed to PROTECT! This is why I am unworthy. This is why I cannot have Cassie any more. It is because of ME she is dead. I killed the brightest star in the sky.
I will never recover!