30 Days of Truth: Books that have changed my world.

17. A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.

Hmm. I've been thinking about this one, and I really can't come up with anything. I can't say that there are any books that have made me look at something differently or made me change my life in any kind of drastic way.

The closest I can come to books that have influenced or made changes in my life are "The Giver" by Lois Lowry, "Coming Home" by Rosamunde Pilcher, "The Third Magic" by Welwyn Wilton Katz, and "Animal Farm" by George Orwell.

None of them were epic, life-altering, opinion-changing books, but they did have an impact, in their own ways.

"The Giver" is the first book I remember reading and loving. I was like 9, I think, and I thought it was fantastic. It was the first book I'd read that wasn't set in a world that was like mine - they had different rules and customs and way of living. It made me realize that books could show me something different - a different life, world, situation - than mine, and that made me want to read more.  I started to read any and every book I could.  It was also the first book I read more than once.

Honestly, I didn't understand the word 'dystopia' until many years later, but even now, I love books about dystopian societies. "Number the Stars" by Lois Lowry, was also big for me, actually.  It was the first book I read about what the Jews went through during World War II.  It made me want to research more into it, although I didn't really do that until I read "The Diary of a Young Girl" by Anne Frank a year or two later.

"Coming Home" was the first book I read that I couldn't put down.  It wasn't anything fantastical or whimsical, but it was the first 'adult' book I'd read.  It's about a British girl living alone and growing up her parents abroad in Singapore (then Sri Lanka) and spanned from when she is 14 in 1935 until she's 24 in 1945.  This book was hardcover and approximately 700 or 800 pages.  I was only about 10 years old when I read it, but it made my thirst for books so much more pronounced.  I wanted more!!  And suddenly, I wasn't afraid to read books that weren't in the children's section.  It was incredibly liberating.  I was so proud of myself and I felt like a grown-up. Although it's been a few years since I read it (for the hundredth or so time!!), this book remains one of my favourites.

I found "The Third Magic" in a pile of books during 'reading time' at school, and it was the first fantasy book I read.  It was amazing!!  There was magic, and weird creatures, and laws and natural things that aren't like here at all.  I loved it!!  I read it over and over and over and over again.  The best part was that it was about a normal girl, living in 20th century Earth, that ended up somewhere else.  It was incredible.  Even now, those are my favourite kinds of books.  I'm pretty sure I was in grade six when I read it, so I would have been about 11 or 12.

I didn't read "Animal Farm" until I was about 15, and when I did, it spawned an intense love of all things Russian history for me.  I loved reading anything and everything I could get that was related to the Tsars and their stories.  I read anything and everything I could about the revolution and Russia's political life around that time.

So there you go.  Books that made an impact.  At least, those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head.

R.I.P. Lucky - the love of my life, the best friend I ever had.

As most of you know, one of the biggest loves of my life is an adorable, 12-year old bichon-poodle mix named Lucky, who is my baby.  On Friday, we had to make the most painful decision I can imagine, and we had to put him down.

I was sixteen when we first got Lucky, and I wasn't living with my mom at the time, although I moved back home not too long afterwards.  And even then, from the minute I saw him, my heart was his.  He was so full of life, so happy, so lovable and cute and cuddly.

I loved him instantly.

And he was so tiny!!  He could sit in the palm of my hand back then.  He slept in a bed we'd made, wrapped up in a blanket.  Sometimes he'd sleep with his arms around one of his stuffed toys. 

Back then, we lived on the first floor, and we didn't have a balcony, really.  Instead, our sliding door opened to a cement patio the same size and shape as the balconies, but with no fences. Beyond that was the grass and trees that were part of the building property.  So it was almost like a backyard.

Going outside was a game to Lucky.  As soon as you opened the door, he would run out, faster than any of us, and run around all over the place.  It would take all of us, and sometimes our friends, too, to catch him.  And even then, we'd need some sort of coordinated attack or he'd slip right past us.

Until one day, my mom threw a shoe at him.  After that, he would patiently wait until you would give him permission to go outside.

He used to love toast.  It was his treat back then, a piece of toast.  Then he got bored of that and it was a piece of cheese.  To his last day, he loved cheese.  He was the pickiest eater.  He loved perogies, but only if they has some sour cream.  And he loved salad, but only if it had three-cheese ranch dressing.  He loooooved frozen green grapes.  Not unfrozen, only frozen ones.  In the summer, when we got ice cream, we'd get him one too.  He liked vanilla, and we'd hold it so he could eat it right from the cone.

He loved to be near people, and his favourite spot to sit was right behind where you were standing. We had to learn for a while to look behind us before we stepped back.

He calmed down as he grew older.  He injured his back leg, so running and jumping became harder for him. We didn't have any other dogs, so he was never super comfortable with them.  He wasn't the kind to wander off and explore too far on his own, and even if we took him camping or wherever, he would stick near you.

He used to come to you when you were sad and lean against you until you hugged him.  He'd kiss your face and do his best to cheer you up.  He greet you at the door, happy, excited that you were home.  He'd go over and scratch at the couch, or at your door, or on your bed, until you let him up so he could sit with you wherever you were.  He loved car rides, and he loved to feel the air against his face as he stuck his head out the window, even in the middle of winter.  He loved his toys, and would sleep with them at night.  He knew what you meant when you said 'shower' or 'bath' and would run and hide.

Lately, he had been very sick.  We found out a few months ago he was diabetic, and it took a while to get his sugar to where we believed it was under control.  He lost about 8 or 9 lbs since Christmas (which is an incredible amount for an overweight 23-lbs doggie), and he was less lively than usual.  About three weeks ago, though, he started going blind. It started off normally, where he had a milky colour to his eyes and he slowly lost sight.  Then about two weeks ago they started turning slightly red (almost like a reflection, or red-eye in pics), and within the week they were red and there was a discharge.  A few days later, they were super swollen and slightly deformed.  By Wednesday of this week, they were swollen to the point it seemed like they would burst any minute.  There was also a small indentation in the middle of them, which is where all the discharge was coming out.  Since we don't have the $3000+ to fix everything, we couldn't help him.  We couldn't even use steroids to bring down the swelling, as they would possibly lead to liver failure for his already damaged liver.

Sadly, the choice was made, after the vet's recommendation, to put him down.


I don't think, ever my life, have I felt such heartbreak.  I feel like we failed him.  Like we could have fixed it but didn't, even though I know realistically we did what was within our means to do.

I feel like I lost a family member.  Like a little hole in my heart has been made and will never be filled.  I can't imagine another pet, or loving another one as much as I loved my baby.

He was my constant companion, spending his days laying next to me as I sent out emails or updated blogs, or read, or did whatever.  He would curl up like a baby in my arms, and cuddle next to when to sleep.

It hurts to know he's not here.  I can't hug him.  And I can't pet him.  I don't get to take him out, and see him run around in the sun.  I don't get to see him do his little somersault onto his back so he can wiggle around on the ground. I don't get to wake up to his scratching my door, and I'll never again get to sleepily let him in and cuddle with him on my bed. 

I hope that wherever he is, he is as happy, and as loved, as he was here.  I hope that maybe he's somewhere with my grandma, sitting on the couch next to her, watching TV and waiting for us to come home.

Thank you for all the years, and the memories, and the love.  I will never, ever, ever forget you, and I will love you until the day I die.  And even then, I'll hope you meet me wherever I'm going.

I love you.

Ugh. Today is no good.

I don't know what's wrong with me today.  I've bitten everyone's head off.  No one is immune.  Well, except Matt, but that may have been because he was on MSN and not in person.  Also, I like his kisses and cuddles, so that might help his immunity :)

Anyways...yes, angry.  I'm not sure what it is that's pissed me off so bad, but I can't seem to stop wanting to kill or destroy things (or people).

I guess today is just one of those days where all I can think of are the bad things in my life.  Ugh.  Days like today are the worst.

But on a happier note, I restarted my soccer blog.  It seems that I still get a shit-ton of hits per day, so I figured I'd do something about it.  Who knows??  Maybe someone will stumble across it and decide that they must hire me for a writing job.  It could happen!!

Anyways, I think that's about it for happy.  I should prolly call Tamara or Kasia or someone and maybe leave the little bubble I'm living in.  Maybe that will help??

Let's hope it does.  Otherwise, I may beat the crap out of something soon.