New Readers read: Barefoot in New Orleans, Who Exactly is This Terd, Dropping Asshole Clues, Nightmares 1,2,3, Wars 1,2 and Wicked Dick of the South, The Drug Mule
“I’m a demon, remember? We can’t change what happened between us, Kash. You should be happy you don’t have to deal with me for the rest of your life now like you said before.” Shwolf said. He had a great point there. But it still didn’t change how horrible I felt. I was just supposed to get over it. It was time to De-Shwolf my life. The end of December 2016 I was ready to let everything and anything that reminded me of Shwolf go, including the dog we once shared. Here’s the tea…
I called him on a weekday afternoon to tell him I thought it would be best for the dog to go back with him. I felt he was capable of caring for two dogs now especially with the help of Griselda. The dog had so much energy! It wasn’t fair for me to keep him in my tiny apartment anymore. As much as I loved the dog he was a tiny little reminder roaming around my place.
“YOU LOVE NOTHING!” Shwolf shouted. “This has nothing to do with me loving the animal and everything to do with what’s best for the dog and moving on.” I said. “You’re so selfish it’s unbelievable!!” he said.
Again, I was being called selfish for something I thought was a pretty selfless act. I tried to explain the only reason I took him in the first place was because every time I went over there after we first split up it was a disaster area.
“Why can’t you say thanks for getting him neutered and taking care of him until I got back on my feet and good again?” I asked. “Because you didn’t need to take him in the first place. You did it just to hurt me.” he replied.
That was the story he was telling everyone, when really I took him because I needed something there at my place with me. Why should he have two when he couldn’t even take care of one when I first left?!
It was nice to have the dog there. A dog’s purpose is companionship. I had nothing when I moved out. All of “my friends” knew him. I had to start over and erase those people from my life.
“I’ve always taken care of the dogs!” he said. That was not true. I did. He maybe put food in their bowls in the morning or at night, but I was usually the one responsible for walking them unless he needed to get out of the house to make a phone call and get away from me.
Countless times I went to the “nightmare apartment” and the dog was caged in a room full of shit and piss.
I had decided to spend my summer ‘17 in Chicago and figure out if I wanted to move back or stay in Miami. I was going to be staying at four different places, visiting, rotating each week and the dog was a handful!
“Your girlfriend has kids, Shwolf. You know they will love him.” I said. “She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends!” he said. I didn’t know why he was still lying. It made no sense, but either way he was getting the dog back.
I knew I was giving him leverage to mess with me in the future, but I wanted to be strong and just let go.
December 29, 2016- I gave my beloved Doo baby back.
Fast forward to February. We had no contact since that day. I was happy doing my thing, meeting people, and having fun. I was thoroughly enjoying my life.
There was only one issue. The damn vet where we used to take the dogs would call me every couple days about the dog’s shots. Emails, phone calls, texts it was crazy. I told them 5 different times I did not have the dogs anymore, but they just kept calling until one day I snapped on them. “I GAVE THE DOG BACK TO MY EX! CALL HIM AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” I yelled. I gave them the number and hung up.
It was a constant nagging reminder. I hated it! I missed the dog more than anything.
The calls and emails from the vet stopped for a while until one day while I was in New Orleans for Mardi Gras my phone rang. It was a guy, which was weird, girls only worked in the office.
“Hi. This is “so and so” from the animal hospital just calling to make sure “the dog” is okay after his visit.” Something about not feeling well, blah blah and I tuned it out. My stomach dropped. I hoped nothing bad happened. I was full of dread.
I wanted to call Shwolf then and there, but something didn’t feel right about it.
I continued on with my trip and tried not to let it bother me.
When I got home I was unpacking and watching my shows, drinking my wine when the vet called again. I was about to lose it! What was it going to take for them to stop calling me?
I grabbed my phone to call Shwolf. I swear, I felt like it was a trap, so I stopped myself. He wasn’t really big into social media, but she was. I didn’t want to call and start drama, so I looked at her Facebook. I had blocked everything Shwolf related for the past 3 months.
She had some long-winded post that she clearly did not write herself about unconditional love, patience, and the perfect soul for her. She must have a really fucked up soul, I thought to myself.
Wishing I had not even looked I decided to email him to check on the dog, sarcastically congratulate him on moving forward so quickly in true Shwolf fashion, and ask him to please call the vet and make the calls stop.
I got a phone call the next day. “This isn’t about the dog, Kash.” he said. It absolutely was about the dog and the 3 phone calls a week I was still receiving regarding him.“I don’t know what happened. They stopped for awhile and then they started back up again out of nowhere.” I told him.
“I don’t know why they are still calling you. That’s none of my concern.” he said.
Of course it wasn’t. He wanted me to be reminded of the dogs daily. He would fly a banner past my balcony of a photo of them if he had a pilot’s license. “Now what is this really about?” he asked.
Aggravated, I yelled “THE DOG!, I’m happy for you finally claiming Griselda. Good for you! I hope you treat her better than you treated me.” I said.
“I treated you good and you know it!” he yelled. Here we go…. Financially, yes. Mentally- absolutely not. Physically, he scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know what he was capable of.
“You knocked my tooth out, Kash!” he said.
“You charged at me and I shielded my face. My ring hit your tooth. It was on its way out anyway, Shwolf. Your enamel is weak from all that shit. If I knocked any teeth out it would have been on your birthday. Please stop victimizing yourself.” I said.
My intention wasn’t to argue, but Shwolf had gone three solid months without a punching bag. He needed to let out his real self out on someone. All this charming he was doing on Griselda was draining him.I saw it in his physical appearance when I agreed to meet him for coffee to perhaps get my closure in a public place from him later in the week. I never really got closure. We argued and I basically dumped the dog off and ignored him. I didn’t want to hear his toxic words. He was still yelling as I pulled away from the building.
Why was I doing this to myself? There were a few reasons. Griselda’s post made him seem like a changed wonderful man! The man I met. I wanted to see that man again.
I wanted to see it with my own eyes. People do change for other people, maybe it really was my fault and he truly was this wonderful man. I wanted a peaceful exchange. That was all.
I agreed to meet with him. “Just coffee.” he said. “Yes, just coffee.” I replied. #nowthatsthefuckingtea